gansje: (Gansje)
Blah. Sick instead. But I will dance all over the living room again one day, dammit! I couldn't swing any alone-time yesterday, as I had a lot of work during the day, and I had the kids all evening while L was at his jewelry making class (I'm excited about this, as he has artistic talent he's never really explored before, and it's a really nice thing to see him having fun with it), and then as soon as he got home with groceries, I had to make a dish for our minyan potluck lunch. I made this:

http://simpleprovisions.com.au/2012/07/09/chickpea-feta-and-parsley-salad/

and it turned out marvelously. Hopefully I didn't accidentally contaminate it with my germs and poison our minyan with this cold. That would be... bad.

Shit. I just realized I was supposed to buy a dessert for a second potluck tomorrow night. I just totally blanked because I felt so shitty as I left the office. And now it's Shabbat and I really shouldn't buy a dessert, but I can't bake anything either... this is a problem. See, this is for a reunion of Adam's b'nai mitzvah class, and it's being convened by one of THOSE friends. You know? The friend who was the Perfect Parent, and who was always Involved in every school event, and who only ever got in touch because she wanted one of the following:

1) a donation to her favorite charity
2) you to work for her latest political enthusiasm
3) your kid to play with her kid, who has no friends
4) you to send your kid to her parents' summer camp (like, they literally owned the camp)
5) you get the picture.

That friend. I have always referred to her as my "very expensive friend." She is a schnorrer for Causes So Good You Cannot Say No, and Then You Regret It Later When She Ignores You Cold In Other Social Settings (TM). So now her synagogue, which used to be my synagogue, fired our old rabbi (who married L and me, and whom we absolutely adore) for, basically, not being peppy enough, and hired a new, peppier "young but appeals to the aged hippy crowd" rabbi with a guitar and a tambourine. Very Expensive Friend (let's call her "VEF") is hosting this reunion of the kids in Adam's class before they all go off to college and only connect, like, daily through snapchat and their respective tumblrs and never see each other again in the flesh. Which is a lovely thought, don't get me wrong. And I agreed to go because Adam wants to see a few of his buddies (girls, most likely, knowing my son, lol) and I would like to introduce L to a few of the other parents I connected with and then lost touch with over the years. Just, sigh. I know very well I'm not exactly on VEF's A-list of friends. I don't know that I even make B-list. And she makes me feel guilty for not being as involved in Adam's elementary, middle and high schools as I would have liked to be had I not had to work my ass off to keep the power on and food on the table and such.

But also, here's the real reason? She invited the new peppy rabbi with a guitar. Which means that this isn't just a pleasant reunion of old friends. This is an Ask, my friends. Maybe I'm jaded, but there is only one reason VEF ever invites anyone (especially L and me) anywhere, and that is to donate money. This is a move to get several families to rejoin our old shul. So sigh. But Adam wants to go, VEF was kind enough to invite Joanna and Henry, and L thought it would be nice to have something social to do on Shabbat. And they live a quick walk from our house. So ugh. We should go. But I don't want to sit through a three hour long guilt trip about why I should rejoin Mishkan when we're really happy at our minyan at GJC...

My wonderful L, who is sitting across from me in our living room, has just pointed out that I am sick, and we actually do not have to go, and laughed maniacally with me. I knew I married that man for a reason. Not only does he find me excuses to avoid thinly veiled sales pitches, but no one does a better maniacal laugh. No one. Well, except maybe [livejournal.com profile] flw, but those guys are practically brothers, so.

Of course, if I'm this sick tomorrow, I'm not going to the minyan potluck either, which is a sad day.

In other news:

Jo's OCD is at bay and she's snuggly and huggy and doing much better that way, and is only asking for the password occasionally, but now her eczema is totally out of control. I'm convinced her anxiety is playing "whack-a-mole" with us. It really feels like it's some kind of entity that comes out through her skin, and if we don't let it do that, it just pops out in OCD thoughts/fears. BTW, last year when it was still available as an online serial comic, I ran across and read Adam Bourret's, "I'm Crazy," about OCD. It really helped me understand what OCD was -- little did I know at the time that we'd be dealing with it head on. For those of you who are curious, here's an excerpt:

http://books.torontoist.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/crazy_2.jpg

It's now a graphic novel. I would buy it to support the artist, but it has some images and storyline that would scare Jo, I think, and she has amazing radar for what we don't want her to see and would find it immediately. Anyway, very helpful.

Other news continued: I had a talk with Adam's father about paying for college and inferred from it that a) he does not intend to get a job to at least make ends meet (he is a lawyer, after all! A lawyer cannot be expected to take a job that is not in the law! Even after 2.5 years of unemployment and not exactly looking for work very hard! Unless it is in your ex-wife's field! Because anything SHE can do is obviously something YOU can do without training and BETTER! No, I'm not bitter? Why do you ask if I'm bitter?) and b) he does not intend to contribute to Adam's college because he has shot through over $100K in "savings" (old friends, you remember whom he got that money from) in 2.5 years, despite being a trust-fund baby and getting quite a bit of money from his mother every year. And despite having signed a divorce agreement stating that he agrees to pay half of all college costs not covered by his mother. Wot the hell. E will step in and fill the gap. She always does!

L is FURIOUS. Like, threatening lawsuit furious. But luckily for Adam, when signing up for the PSAT, the SAT, and AP tests, he arbitrarily chose his father's address as his permanent address. That means because Rich and I share custody equally, that Rich can fill out the FAFSA and Adam at least can benefit from his father's continued unemployment somehow. This is at least one good thing. Adam has been very upset with his dad for not bothering to look for work for 2 years, and only looking half-heartedly now. He's a really responsible kid and he's having a hard time wrapping his head around his father's inherent irresponsibility.

Henry continues to be Henry. He's been very into Legos lately, which warms the cockles of L's heart, and he seems to be more active lately, instead of entirely addicted to Minecraft, which is great. If I never see another Minecraft farm animal again, it will be too soon. He's also reading VOLUNTARILY (thank you, Diary of a Wimpy Kid author! KEEP WRITING!) and he has learned to wipe his own butt, meaning fewer yelps of parental distress and discarded pairs of Angry Bird underwear. Hey, you have to embrace the small victories.

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March 2014

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