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Showing posts from April, 2011

Taking my own Advice

http://www.atlantaparent.com/05-MAY11/May11_ALL.pdf I wrote this article a few months ago...long before Passover, when I felt idyllic, smug and thin.  As with the publishing world, things don't always get published  until 6-8 months later.  So, I have to admit my professional advice in a magazine hasn't quite caught up to my present day post Passover admission. For whatever it's worth, it's not bad advice, and it has made me pause for thought and reassess.  This doesn't mean that I am no longer, neurotic or self deprecating on occasion, afterall, that's just part of my charm, the way I roll, who I am, blah, blah, blah. However, I find it ironic that this article was published today, the day after I unleashed to the blog-o-sphere of my egregious sin of weighing in during Passover. I am feeling very accountable right now...and hungry.

Weighing in on the Last Day of Passover: Literally and Figuratively

Easter has come and gone.   The lonely leftover Peeps continue to haunt me at the supermarket with their beady little eyes and fluffy, gelatnous,   toxic colored bodies standing at attention from behind their boxed prisons.   The amassed leftover chocolate eggs and bunnies dutifully lie on the markdown table.   Easter is quick and painless.   Get in, feed your chocolate fix and get out. Passover, however, continues to linger on (today is the last day, yipee) eventhough the grocery stores pretty much write the holiday off after day 3.   The Passover aisle is nothing but a shelf with an errant box of matzah or a lonely cake mix hanging about looking to make a comeback. Passover is like the little engine/holiday that could.   We start out with a bang surrounded by family and friends and food that is different, but as the week drags on, and the matzah builds in our bodies,   and the guests just keep a comin, we peeter out.   Children are bickering, husbands are grumpy, and wives, (and I do

Passover Musings: An Ode to the Swiffer

Ode to the Swiffer Hello again, my old friend Swiffer. I have watched you standing there lingering against the wall Like a lady in waiting or a jilted lover waiting to be reclaimed, longing to be loved. You patiently anticipate the day when thou shalt be realized As the premiere Passover appliance.   For, alas, the past year has proven that the bristle and pan surely wins our affections. Through the changing seasons, as the apple cake crumbs, the oily remnants of latkes, and the sticky hamantash morsels litter our floors, we effortlessly sweep them away with the broom, as you stoically watch and wait.   Your charger lies in the darkened cabinet with its cord tightly coiled about like a sleeping snake. Arise! Arise! Oh Swiffer, your day has come to claim your redemption, to humble and shame us with your capable servitude. Truly, you are the only appliance worthy of gobbling up our crumbs of affliction.   The dusty soles of our feet are forever tainted with matzah residue, an irritating

Rachel's Top Ten Modern Day Afflictions-A New Spin on the Ten Plagues

Rachel’s Top Ten Modern Day Plagues Every year, we sit at our Seder tables and ceremoniously dot our plates with wine as we recite the ten plagues.   Last year, my plate had a few extra dots on it.   My daughter accused me of being bad at math, while my husband declared I was being careless, but I actually had a reason.   In an effort to get real and truly appreciate the hardship in Egypt, I “covertly” provided a few extra modern-day plagues of my own and now I am sharing these “get real” afflictions with all of you.     You can mix and match or trade them with your friends, anything to make your life and your seder a little more meaningful.   These are in random order. 1.        Bathing suit season (which "conveniently"comes right after a carb-laden eat fest) 2.        Passover cake mixes (why even bother)? 3.        Post camp laundry (A very rank and asphyxiating affliction) 4.        Lice (it’s the plague that just keeps on giving...don't ask why....I just know) 5.    

Weirdest Pre-Passover Meals...What's in Your Fridge?

When I was a kid, the days preceding Passover were usually filled with trepidation.  Sure, we were excited as Passover activities were in full swing, and we could almost taste the festival of freedom, a.k.a. spring break.  But, along with these frenetic preparations, terror lurked deep in the hearts of my brothers and me, especially when it came to the last few dinners prior to Passover.  Of course, my mother tried to disguise the fact that she was using us as human guinea pigs as she created dishes with every leftover in the fridge combined into a casserole or soup. She lamely tried to pass it off as something fancy, like adding the word "surprise" to the dish.  So, it would be something like stale bread pudding, fish stick and mushroom "surprise."  MMMMMMM.  Yummy.  Nothing like mom's stale bread pudding, fish stick and mushroom surprise to actually get you to wish for a weeks worth of cardboard matza and butter.  One time she made a soup...I swear I think

Passover Musings: Fruit Gems are Neither Fruit, nor Gems...Discuss

Passover is just around the corner. Now, I don't know about you, but when I see the supermarket manager preparing the Passover aisle (which by the way was the first week of March-ridiculous) I literally break out into a sweat; I quake in my boots.  The fact that I'm wearing boots should tell you that the Passover aisle was out way too early in advance this year. Okay, it is what it is.  I find the Passover aisle quite fascinating, actually, and I wonder, when did Fruit Gems trump Matzah and become the official symbol of Passover? I mean, if the Jews took fruit gems with them on their journey out of Egypt...Passover would have a whole different spin now, wouldn't it? I couldn't believe how many boxes were on the shelf, so, let's talk fruit gems for a moment.  From a health perspective, these have to be the most egregious candy of them all and while they are my husband's favorite, I refused to buy them.  I just couldn't. Even the fruit were insulted. No

Biscuit and the Beast

In a very rare and unprecedented move, I ordered pizza the other night for dinner. Yes, I hear the collective sighs of horror and in my defense I usually never order pizza. However, my daughter pleaded Papa John and I succumbed to my lazy alter ego. I was so tired after a non-stop Sunday of activities and while I'm usually the person who insists on healthy meals at home, I indulged in a fleeting moment of weakness and let my junk food beast out of its cage.  BIG MISTAKE. But you probably knew that already. Thirty minutes later, as predicted, my husband was washing down the pizza with a pink, pepto chaser while my daughter lay on the couch in a pizza induced coma, while I wallowed in self loathing, only to wake up with a terrible food hangover. But let's add more insult to injury, shall we?  I had to borrow money from my 10 year old to pay for the peptic pizza. So sad.  Hold on, though....there's more.  She left a note on my pillow in the form of an IOU, with a line f