Mrs. Balabusta

Welcome to 2009

2009-05-19T21:58:00.000-05:00

Interestingly, it has been almost a year since my last post. Much has changed, and some things not so much.

Anyway - I wanted to give a cyber shout out (can you still do that?) to the 300+ girls who graduated from Stern College this last week.

I was just so proud of them all....

Maybe this one in particular.

Thank you for that moment of nachas... now

I have to go assemble and install my new ceiling fan.

A Balabusta's work is never done.

The second 100-year rain

2008-06-13T07:08:00.002-05:00

June 21, 1997 was the 100 year rain that brought a lot of flooding to Milwaukee.

This last week has been the second 100 year rain.

Anyone know where I can rent an ark?

Scenes from the hallway

2008-03-06T21:00:00.005-06:00

I have been working in the echo lab, which is a very interesting job in and of itself. One day I will tell you more about it. What I have to tell you about today is the hallway.

Across the hallway from the clinic is the cath lab. Not a great setup, but a cath lab has a great deal of inertia, and once planted doesn't move for at least 20 years. Some days I get to work and there is already a gurney outside in the hallway. There is a light above the main entrance to the lab that says "Room in Use" and a sign on the door that says "Don't use this door when light is on".

Some days I get to work and the gurney is already there and the light is already on. I like those days. Other days it isn't, which means the case hasn't started yet. Eventually you hear the commotion of the gurney and assorted rolling stands coming down the hallway, kids, parents. The woosh of the doors, the staff comes out with big smiles to greet the pt and family. Sometimes the pt is a baby and the gurney is just a crib.

Last week it was a full gurney with a girl, maybe 7-8 sitting up. They got to the doors. I heard the woosh and turned around. I saw this girl hugging her father and then she reached across the other side to hug her mother. "Mommy come with me!" the girl said. "It's okay, just don't touch anything," the staff said.
"Okay, Mommy's coming...."
Then woosh. The light goes on. About five minutes later mother comes back out and hugs father who is still standing in the hallway. Then they walk away. I go back to work.

With sleeping pts, you spend a lot of time in dark, quiet rooms, so you hear the hallway pretty well. I am very intuitive about voices and tones.
"Where's T.? They need her in the cath lab."
"I thought D. was in there."
"She is, they need T too."
"She's in back, I'll get her."
Then later I hear T's voice..."I don't get know, get 3 more units."

I recover my patient and go to eat lunch in the breakroom. T's got half a yogurt on her desk. My next patient comes, and goes and I notice the gurney is gone. T is back at her desk eating and taking messages off her phone. The crew is in the lab with the big carts. I don't know if I want to ask how it went, how it turned out, or if I would rather keep my doubts.

I decided I would rather keep my doubts.

Then another nurse came in and asked how it turned out. The girls was on the ropes for a while, but she came out okay.

I go home. Park in the garage. It's cold, the air is still, very quiet. Quiet in a way no one in New York has even imagined. Mentally and physically I walk from one world to another and back again. Still, I carry these things with me always.

It does well to remember that we are very fragile, intricate, beautiful beings and that tomorrow is promised to no one.

Tomorrow there will be another gurney in the hallway.

Shipping a box to Israel ? - Think Again!

2008-01-15T16:09:00.000-06:00

Since my visit to Israel last summer I have been accummulating things in a box that I wanted to send to my cousins, such as: My favorite coffee, jelly beans, a computer program for the kids, and lots of Hershey Chocolate Kisses, which I know they like.

First you have to find a box, it should be something sturdy. I found a box from a case of wine. That was just about the right size, maybe a little too big, but definitely sturdy.

After months of collecting and planning, I was ready to ship. I had to call Israel to get the address, but today was going to be the day, of that I was determined. Bought shipping tape last night, labeled the box and all ready to go.

I took the box to a UPS store. I remembered it as a Mailboxs place, but whatever, they have a scale, they can ship. First thing they told me is that you can't ship anything in a box from wine. Ever. I had two options, one was to buy a box from them, the other was to wrap the box in brown paper. I chose to wrap my sturdy box in brown paper, but when they found out the box was going to Israel, they dissuaded me from that because they said the paper "wouldn't make it that far." So, I bought a smaller box from them for $3.50.

We opened the box, repacked everything. Fit nicely. Now how much does it cost to ship this box. Weight 12 lbs. Well via UPS it would cost either $236 or $136 dollars, depending on if I wanted it there tomorrow or not. If I took it to the post office I could ship it Priority Mail for $76. Well, I decided not to ship UPS and take my chances with US Parcel Post, which I knew was cheaper.

So we drove down the street to the post office and I already had the customs form from the UPS store. I get up to the front of the line and I am told that as of May 14, 2007 there is no more parcel post and the cheapest (and only) way to ship anything to Israel is Priority mail, which will cost $76. However, the lady says, we have a small box that is flat fee. This means whatever you can fit in it, you can ship for $37. Everything these days goes by air, no boats or ships involved.

Well, I decided to go for the small box. I took the box back to my car, opened the purchased UPS box and repacked most of the things into the smaller US Priority mail box and returned to the post office, where the box now weighed 9 lbs. I filled out about 7 forms and showed ID and paid the lady and my box was on it's way. Should be there in 6-10 days - approximately.

Anyway, here's the zen question of the day - "Why is it called SHIPPING, if you can't ever put it on a SHIP?"

Patient Centered Care

2007-11-22T18:11:00.000-06:00

I step out of my Mrs. Balabusta role for the following post, and speak, for a change, and a nurse and more directly, as a member of the sentient human race.

Having said that, it has come to my attention in the last week of clinics that I have been sadly overestimating the intellectual capacity of many people, mostly patients. In short, Thinking is Very Overrated.

I now move to the realm of nursing theory. My lay readers may follow along at their own Peril:

Nursing, in common with many other professions, loves key catch phrases, especially if you are writing a paper, or a grant, or say, for example, both. Two of my favorite catch phrases are Evidenced Based Practice and Patient Centered Care. I could write an entire post about Evidence Based Practice, or I could sum it up like this: "Let's try this and see if it works - if it does, we'll write a paper!"

But I digress, because this post is about Patient Centered Care. This affects me and my family on a very personal level because the institution in which my grandfather (aka The Man of Steel) resides has become all about Patient Centered Care. If I had to sum of the theory of Patient Centered Care in a nutshell it would go like this - "We should care more about the patient than the institution itself." Radical, I know, but they do have evidence to back up this theory. The evidence runs something like a lot of surveys that say patients like their care providers to, get this, make the patient their first priority, especially in institutions they are likely to reside in for several years and to which they will be leaving their entire life savings.

But I digress again. One example at my grandfather's institution of Patient Centered Care is that they now serve breakfast anytime between 7 and 10 a.m. to accommodate those habitual late risers. My grampa however points out rather succinctly that although he is an early riser and likes to eat breakfast no later than 8, the staff didn't ask him what time he liked to wash or get dressed. The aforementioned Man of Steel, who is by the way classified as the "old old" only requires clean towels, help with his AFO and tying his shoes. Still, he likes to have his shoes tied before breakfast, so his idea for Patient Centered Care would be if they would ask him what time he likes to get dressed and washed instead of offering him breakfast until 10.

Also they offer him a bedtime snack. They take a cart around and bring him graham crackers. Every night, graham crackers. This is exactly what makes institutions institutional and exactly the kind of thing Patient Centered Care was supposed to make extinct. So Grampa, being sick of graham crackers, asked for a banana before bed. He was told that the graham crackers already had his sticker on them, so he had to take them, and anyways the bananas will be served with his breakfast. "Well, I will take the graham crackers if I have to. But if the bananas are handy, could I have my banana now instead of in the morning?" Surprisingly, this request was granted and Grampa considered it a major victory, stroke of unusual luck, or a mere fluke. But if you ask him what's nu - he has a story to tell about how he scored a banana for bedtime snack.

So you would think the above stories mean that if the institution really wants to center their care around the patient, they would logically.....ask the patient what they want? I admit that would be the direct approach - it's almost too easy. In fact, it's just what they'd be expecting us to do. So obviously, that's not what they did.

In fact, the institution mailed a form to my father about my grandfather that was about 8 double sided pages long. It came with a cover letter stating that the more we know about our patients the better care we can offer them, and that is why we are asking you the family members to fill out this questionairre titled "My Life Story". My father decided he didn't have all the information he needed to answer some of the questions so he brought the questionairre to Thanksgiving Dinner so after the Packer game was over (We BEAT the Lions) he would ask Grampa the necessary information.

Now some of the questions were in fact, centered around better care for the patient. Information like religious preference and marital status, number of children and grandchildren (my father attached a spreadsheet here). However, some of the questions were irrelevent, bordering on ridiculous and made for some very humerous exchanges that in retrospect, we should have videotaped. I will however, from memory give you some examples of the questions and Grampa's answers.

Personality inventory: Check the box if you think this adjective applies to you. Grampa, just answer yes or no if you want to check the box.
Active? - Yes.
Passive? - Yes.
Angry? - Why? What did you do?
Depressed? - Every time the social worker meets with me they ask me that. Do I look depressed? Anyway, I just say no.
Cheerful? - Sure, why not?
Insightful? - Okay.
Introspective? - What does that mean?
Hopeful? - Hopeful? I'm 93! What exactly am I supposed to be hoping for?
Athletic? - Sure, I can walk to the bathroom by myself.
Demanding? - Eh, why knock your head against the wall? It would be nice if they could serve the coffee -HOT- with the dessert, otherwise the coffee gets cold while they are passing around the dessert. Is that too much to ask? Is that demanding?
Content? - Content or continent? Okay.

As amusing as that exchange was, it only got better from there.

Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? -Vegas? Why?
What is your favorite book? - I don't like books.
What is your favority movie? - I don't care for the pictures.
What is your favorite movie actor? - They're all bums.
What about actress? - Elizabeth Taylor, she was pretty good.
What's your favorite sport? (This is after the game which we parked at the end of the dining room table for the Thanksgiving Dinner) - Football, I guess.
What do you do to relax? - Relax? I relax when I'm asleep don't I?
Do these things help you to relax:
Prayer? - No, usually he goes pretty fast.
Synagogue? Isn't that the same as prayer?
Temple? Isn't that the same as Synagogue? Who wrote these questions?
Meditation? Never.
Purposeful breathing? Everytime I breath its on purpose.
Sports? You mean watching sports or playing?
Reading? No.
Music? Yes.
Tai Chi? Gezuhntieit.

Then we go to the really obscene stuff. I admit, these next few questions made me lose my patience and go off like... like... like a ...wait a minute, you tell me.

What is your favorite color? - Why you painting the room?
What is your favorite day? - Is today Thursday? That sounds pretty good.
What is your favorite dream? - None of your business.
What is your favorite plant? - Huh? Plant? Like flowers? Elm trees are nice. You know the poem, roses are red, violets are blue -

That's it. Right there. I want someone to tell me for the love of everything holy what instrument these administrators lifted from which study and how knowing your favorite PLANT is going to impact patient care as much as a stupid question like - WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO EAT BEFORE BED, IF ANYTHING?

The Point and Shoot Club

2007-11-07T18:46:00.000-06:00

Today Mrs. Balabusta did not go to the hospital. Instead, I packed my rolling duffel and headed out to cubicle-land, where anxious computer programmers anxiously awaited my arrival. They lined up for a block, while I was interviewed and fingerprinted (it was a high security area).

And then I stuck them with sharp objects - and they thanked me.

Seriously 129 flu shots in 4 hours, not too shabby.

I must say my record is 191 flu shots in 5 hours, but this was a brisk pace anyway. You have to have rhythm, that's where it's at.

So two posts in one week, sort of breaking all expectations I know. Try to curb your enthusiasm.

Mrs. Balabusta has a slow day

2007-11-05T14:05:00.001-06:00

Mrs. Balabusta has been running around lately like a chicken without a head, but much better looking.

However, since we are having a slow day, relatively speaking, I have the chance to update on the Life and Times of Mrs. Balabusta. I know many of you are wondering how Mrs. Balabusta manages to fill the hours of her day and week and still breathe, eat and -occasionally- pee, (in that order) I will below summerize the list of paying jobs I have:

Float Nurse, Ambulatory Clinics, Famous Pediatric Tertiary Institution.
Staff Nurse, Flu shot clinics, dispatched from national industrial health company.
CPR Instructor, other tertiary care institution in the same city.
Substitute teacher, primary yeshiva school on days when I am not otherwise engaged.
Aerobics Instructor, 4 evenings a week lately for girls and women (technically, I make no money doing this, but it decreases my annual obligation, so I count it here.)

And the PT wants to know why I don't blog more often. Some of us have to go to work to pay the bills, and others of us can just sit back, blog and play XBox for whole minutes at a time.

But seriously, the minutes that I am not being paid to do something are few and there is still shopping, cooking and other family-home based needs that, you know, need to be met now and again. Usually I do a pretty good job keeping up with demands, but now and again something somewhere slips and the PT is left scrounging for milk for his Cheerios.

Actually, I like being busy. But since I do have some free time I would like everyone to speak up and tell me what they had for lunch today. I had a really fantastic salad with apple and cheddar cheese chunks. My theory is that most people hunt down lunch and shoot it rather than having an actual plan. I know some of the things the PT eats should be shot first.

You will get extra points if you supply pictures.

Those leftover pieces....

2007-07-24T22:29:00.000-05:00

This really happened, although thankfully not to me.

Every year a neighboring town has an Fly-In. The name of the town is Oshkosh and it is host to a convention of avionic enthusiasts. There is in fact a museum to aviation history and 2 hangers of aircraft that you can visit for a nominal admission charge (they have a family price too!)

One thing aviation enthusiasts like to do, apparently, is build their own airplanes. Myself I would not sit on a chair my husband built himself, not that the situation is likely to arise anyway, without checking into my life insurance, health insurance, and writing a will. But there are people out there who think it would be cool to fly a plane you built yourself. Then of course, the next thing is to fly it to Oshkosh.

This brings many feelings to me, and I am not sure why. One thing that intrigues me is what these people, who fly here around the globe, finally build the plane, test it, and then fly it to Oshkosh - what do they think when they finally get there - I mean after Holy Cow We Didn't Die. Is it more like "So this is Oshkosh" or "I thought it would be bigger?" I just wonder.

Then I must say there are stories every year about the ones that don't make it. They sometimes crash near where they started from, this year it was in France or Holland. Sometimes they almost make it and then, well, you know. There was a story in the news this morning about a boy and his father who built their own plane and were flying to Oshkosh when the propeller fell off the plane. The father was able to glide onto a rural road and land without incident. No one is saying for sure, but I wonder what happened when the two of them got out and saw the front with the propeller gone. It could have been something like this....

Mom is so going to kill you....
Did you see where it landed...
Maybe we should have used those two extra screws after all.

Anyway, at last report they were going to put the propeller back on and fly on to Oshkosh. As soon as they find it.

So I just thought you should know... And that's why I like bowling.

Miss me?

2007-07-08T20:51:00.000-05:00

Well the last five months have been quite eventful. I really didn't know what I was getting into - but I am enjoying it.

In case I was vague before, Mrs. Balabusta, having entirely too much time on her hands, changed from Cushy College Health job to Hospital Based Ambulatory Nursing job right around the beginning of this year. To make things more interesting, this is a "float" or as we like to call it "CRU" (clinical resource unit), position, so I can be on several different units in the course of a week, nay a month.

This has been quite demanding on my teeny moth-eaten brain. I have a spiral bound index card thing that I keep in my left skirt pocket right next to my stash of stickers. One card for each unit, these cards have the essentials of each location such as: location; cost center, ext. #, fax #, pager #, voice mail #, clinic manager, door codes, flags and usage, doctors, nurses, clinic assts, etc, etc. I don't get very far without my cards.

I try to park in the same row every day to cut down on time I spend looking for my car. Doesn't always happen though.

I have many funny stories about being the only orthodox nurse in the entire hospital - mostly people just call me "the one in the skirt", but what else is new really?

I enjoy the people I work with, and mostly I enjoy the patients, although there have been a few winners. The doctors though take the cake (You All Know Who You Are): In fact, just for fun, lets see if you can name the specialty I am going to give you a head start and list the clinics I have been in:

Allergy/Asthma
Pulmonary
Renal
Dialysis
Orthopedics
Endocrine
Neonatal
Dermatology

And now match the following terms to the above specialties:

Babysitters
Rock stars
Cover People
the Specialists' Specialist
Re-Decorators
Meet and sleep
Pre-Transplant People
Report Card docs

The gauntlet has been thrown down.

Mrs Balabusta is back!

Mrs. Balabusta gets a Job

2007-02-07T20:27:00.000-06:00

After 3 years in college health Mrs. Balabusta is moving into Pediatrics at a tertiary care facility. This is quite a change and a shock to the system.

By system, I refer of course to Systems Theory, and there isn't a system out there that isn't going to be shocked. Some of these systems are internal, wake/sleep cycles, food/elimination patterns, and just neuron overload.

Other systems are Laundry systems, food delivery systems, carpool systems (you know how tenuous those systems are) and the grandparents support network of systems. I could go on, but I won't.

So for those of you looking for a good blog now and then, I direct you to the PT, who is sometimes good for a laugh. I also left a funny comment on Curly's site. Otherwise, I am trying to tread water and keep my nose above the surface. It doesn't help that the weather was umpteen below zero this week either.

To quote someone famous "I Like Smooth, how come it can't ever go smooth?"

To play our game name the speaker.

Reach out and touch someone

2007-01-25T21:41:00.000-06:00

Believe it or not, back when Mrs. Balabusta was Miss Balabusta she went to high school and had a few friends. Most of them don't keep in touch that well. At all.

But last night I got a call from a high school friend that I hadn't heard from in like 10 years probably. And although I had been having a pretty good day, it probably made my week.

So what is it about childhood friends that makes them so special to our hearts? Is it just like music from when we were kids, it takes you back to a better time? Is it that children can just make friends easier and better because there are less pretenses to hold up? I don't know, but I don't care either. My friends really do stay my friends, even if it takes a while to pick up the phone.

So here is a challenge - to the psychotoddler and others, reach out and touch someone, call someone even if you haven't in a long time and you think it will be weird because it's been so long. It will be weird for 2 seconds and then it will be good fun. It works.

The world is not as big as it used to be, and the more friends you have out there the better.

You do the math!

2007-01-22T09:27:00.001-06:00

It's vacation week. You know what that means?

Appointments!

Here's what we got:
5 kids have dentist appointments.
4 kids have optometrist appointments.
3-4 kids have orthodontist appointments (I don't exactly remember which ones necessarily, but what the hell, we're all going to be there).
3 kids need passports, still. (Good news, better than DMV)
1 kid has an audiology appointment.

I would like the answer expressed in miles driven x # of passengers divided by M&M's.

You call this vacation?

What I think about HPV and Orthodox girls

2007-01-15T17:59:00.000-06:00

Mrs. Balabusta will diverge from her humorous self to discuss this serious topic, soon to be a major motion picture - or at least a major motion.

First the facts about HPV and Gardasil: HPV causes genital warts and some forms of cervical dysplasia that can lead to cervical cancer. Most Pap smears that come back abnormal are from changes related to HPV. The Gardasil vaccine provides immunity for some of the more wicked strains of HPV that cause the most serious damage, but there are over 100 strains of HPV, most of them being mostly harmless. HPV is only transmitted via sexual contact.

So why, you rightly ask, should a virgin marrying a virgin need to be vaccinated for a sexually transmitted disease?

My daughter and I examined this very carefully. We were able to do this with a number of solid assumptions, and a few suppositions:
1. She will not have intercourse until after she marries.
2. She will marry someone of this faith, probably with a similar disposition. 3. People sometime misrepresent themselves or their pasts for fear of rejection. (corollary: Everyone is not who or what they appear to be), (or if you watched Babylon 5 ,"No one is who they appear to be")
4. She would not reject a suitor of the faith and similar disposition, out of hand, just because they were not always religious.

Given all these circumstances, or "givens", we could envision a scenario where she might meet and marry a person with an unspectacular past. Or, conversely, she might meet someone who claims to be a virgin, but really isn't. Either way, we decided that it is a lot easier to make a decision about whether or not to get vaccinated when the issue is not attached to a particular person, whereupon it becomes a much thornier issue. For example, it is a lot easier to say that "Sometimes guys lie about their past" than it is to say "Do you think ________ is being truthful about his sexual past?"

Of course, the last issue is the state of affairs today, no pun intended. You all know who I am talking about. Issues that come up that used to be orthodox urban myths but are no longer imaginary. I don't think I really need to be any more explicit than this except to quote my quotable husband who says "If you can imagine it, it's already happened."

So erring on the side of "Better Safe than Sorry", we decided that to pass up this immunization would be equal to sticking your head in the sand. Cervical cancer is not pretty, and if I can protect my children from even an abstract chance I'll do it.

Feel free to disagree with me - but I would ask you to confine your comments to the discussion above. I am not interested in getting into the whole "vaccinations are evil" movement or "preventive medicine leads to promiscuity". No research has borne out either of these claims.

Elvis Has Left the Building

2007-01-14T18:57:00.000-06:00

For those of you who have been following this blog closely, or not so closely, you have heard about pre-employment hoops and for lack of a better word, procedures that one must go through before starting a new job.

Likewise, there are ceremonies for leaving a job. After almost exactly 3 years Mrs. Balabusta is leaving the college health community to treat children at a hospital based facility on an outpatient basis. Some people refer to it as Ambulatory Float - I prefer to think of it as "Flying Squad".

I write this on the eve of my first day of orientation. I received the agenda via e-mail and it looked daunting, at least to me. Some of the procedures and skills I will be tested on I have not practiced since the third year of nursing school. Yet I find myself excited, intrigued, and feeling much like any freshman before the first day of school. I hope to come back tomorrow night and let you both know how it worked out.

Not the least of this new job will be the expanded hours. I will be likely working until after 4, instead of just past 3, which may mean dinner is not hot and ready and on the table at the stroke of five. This, needless to say, will be quite an adjustment for my family. So I will let you know how that works out.

However, I must tell you that this past week I spent entirely with Fudge doing nothing in particular. It was glorious. About 5 days of vacation that felt like having a month off.

Sunday - We went up to Mequon to see my grandparents in the nursing home. I cut Grampa's hair, even his sideburns which as my daughter remarked "Grampa, sideburns that long went out with the Civil War." He looks 20 years younger, which is good, because he is turning 93 this week K"IH.

Monday - Took Fudge in the a.m. for immunizations. Take a minute to take out your kids cards. Fudge is too old to have gotten Hep B with her baby shots, so we had to finish up that series, added a second Varicella (stay tuned for that recommendation, but she is living in a dorm for crying out loud) and for the bonus round finished off with HPV after much intense and frank discussion over the course of many days. This will be an entirely different post later, stay tuned. After this we went to a fabric/craft store across the street and for an unplanned activity decided to put together a book bag/purse for her out of the coolest corduroy fabric. Took a few hours in the afternoon, but she is going to be the hippest frood in Manhattan.

Tuesday - Errands, nothing major. Made sugar cookies and some very good cappucino cookies. Yum Yum. Started working on my AHA CPR Instructor certification.

Wednesday - Went to Super Wal Mart in West Bend and bought 9 boxes of Mrs. Freshly's for the boys at school. This stuff is like gold in a boys' dorm and you can't get it in Milwaukee. You also can't get Drakes, but I digress. Some things for Fudge's dorm room.... We also got little Kreplach squares for shabbos.

Thursday - Cleaned up the house, cooked for company. Finished my CPR Instructor prereq's.

Friday - Made kreplach, Fudge's first encounter with the supply end of Kreplach. This was supposed to be a museum trip with company, but the company didn't come, so we just went with ourselves. Also brought the Freshly's to the boys, and the celebration carried on for weeks.

I write it here and I imagine a lot of you looking around and saying "So what, nothing new here." and there really isn't. But she is a cool kid, funny, biddable, and fun to be with, and I am so glad I had the time when she was available. I really didn't know what I was missing, and now I fear I will miss her quite a bit.

So for now, it's just me, Mr. Wonderful and his marinated mushrooms (and three other kids).

Whose Pee is that Anyway?

2006-12-27T21:47:00.000-06:00

Mrs. Balabusta can tell many strange and amusing stories about pee. (that's urine for you hypereducated morons - you all know who you are).
So many, in fact, that Mrs. Balabusta has been asked on more than one occasion to write a book. But I digress....

Since Mrs. Balabusta got a new job Mrs. Balabusta needed an employee health physical and - say it all together now - a drug screen. Let me say now that it is a good thing they don't screen for marinated mushrooms, (see previous post).

But there are 10 things they do screen for and to do this you have to pee in a cup. That's no big deal. Mrs. Balabusta has been peeing in cups for years now and has almost got it perfect (see previous post on the Other Olympics).

What's new in the world is that you have to sign on six different lines that this is, in fact and deed, your own pee and not someone elses and that you haven't done anything to it. They call it the chain of custody.

Now let me tell you a little something. Mrs. Balabusta has quite a bit of experience with other people's pee pee, from the year 1988 in fact. So much experience that there was a day when she could pretty much tell by the shape and location of the puddle whose pee exactly was on the floor, (see previous post on Toilet Training 101 and the remedial 105). Yes in those days the Chain of Custody referred to whose turn it was to take out the diaper pail (this was the day before those Geenies) and let me tell you, nobody had to sign six times on whose diaper was in the pail.....(except for this one time when we were really hard up for money and I entered a research study on diapers because I was promised $40 and free diapers for a month, but I had to return the used ones, which is exactly when Mark started saying they were going to add my name to the DSM-III. It was a long time ago, they were only up to III then).

The rest of the Physical included toe touches, deep knee bends and squats. That was about when Mrs. Balabusta was pretty glad she kept limber in her 2 x a week aerobic dance class for teenagers. Also about the same time I started wondering if you had to pass this test to get pregnant, have kids, or just keep up with them. See that would really make sense, it would be like an Olympic qualifier.

For the record, I think we should come up with a test that people have to take before they are allowed to drive a car because there are far too many IDIOTS DRIVING out there. And then we should make an institution that is supposed to administer the tests, but really doesn't do anything besides their nails and order takeout just to see how much you really want that license, and we could call this institution the (see previous post)

Marinated Mushrooms for Everyone!

2006-12-25T13:01:00.000-06:00

Before the Bar Mitzva the PT and Mrs. Balabusta spent some quality time together shopping for paper goods and other assorted expensive things at Sam's Club. I want to mention the admas nefesh involved on my part, it was a Monday night and the Packers were playing.

I want to start this story by saying everytime I come home from said Warehouse Store, The PT picks up something and says "What did you buy this for? We don't need this - And we certainly don't need this much of it?..." Then he goes on to explain how someday someone is going to name a brain disease after me and we will both be very famous.

The other thing he says when I get home is "Where are the Cheerios?" But that's another blog....

Back to my point, while I was buying 4 lbs can of tuna x 3, the PT came across a 4 lb jar of marinated mushrooms, right next to the pickles which can also glow in the dark. He said, and I quote here - "Look what I found."

I looked at the PT standing in the aisle at Sam's very proud of himself and looking very hopeful. Doing a quick computation on the cost:benefit ratio of having a conversation about mushrooms and that fact that I was missing the game already, I decided buying the mushrooms was probably a good idea.

Once the said mushrooms took up residence in the pantry, it was a struggle to decide what to do with them. Add to rice and bake? Kugelize it (you can make a kugel out of anything, its a scientific fact)? Feeling unmotivated I decided I can serve them on a relish tray with pickles and olives.

Which I do quite a lot now. So if any of you decide to drop by for a nosh and quick cup of tea, you will probably also be served marinated mushrooms, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood PT.

Our Husbands Speak

2006-12-21T18:39:00.000-06:00

I told my husband a story about me using a coupon at Victoria's Secret to get a new Ipex wire-free bra.

"Ipex bra" he said, "What is that, like a bra that plays music too?"

That's right honey, I said, you just turn the knobs......

I made fajitas this week and he had to open a new bag of tortillas. The is the reclosable bag if you open it on the top.
If you rip it open on the side, not so much...

When confronted with his faux pas, my husband replied "I really don't believe in those reclosable strips, they never work."

So basically... what we had was a difference in philosophy.

Ask Mrs. Balabusta

2006-12-21T14:29:00.000-06:00

Looking in the mail bag, Mrs. Balabusta finds a comment that is really a question:

How do you handle Chanukah in terms of presents with your kids?

Well, Raggedy, when my kids were little, my MO was to buy a big type toy that everyone could play with, like a PlayDough squeezer kit thing or maybe a castle or kitchen set, when they were bigger they got legos. The lego phase lasted a few years I believe.

Lately, I don't buy gifts, wrap presents or do much of anything that resembles Christmas. They are bigger now and it just feels strange. I do take advantage of the sweaters on sale, and the vacation time they have to get new sneakers, etc.

I also used to buy gifts for all the teachers at Christmas and then again at the end of the year. Now I just do the end of the year. When I had my own medical transcription business (appx one lifetime and two children ago), I used to buy boxed chocolates for my clients.

I don't do that anymore either. The fact is every time Mrs. Balabusta walks into a mall in December I feel like I am celebrating Christmas, so I have sort of made the conscious effort to avoid these types of interactions.

I did call the principal of my kids school and volunteer to sub for 12/26 this year so an English teacher could spend an extra day at home when her kids are home. And someone took me up on it.

Look for a post next week on Mrs. Balabusta Teaches First/Second Grade.

Mrs. Balabusta gets a Job

2006-12-18T19:33:00.000-06:00

This is not as exciting as Curious George Gets a Job, but almost as miraculous.

Also, there are no Yellow Hats involved.

Mrs. Balabusta is leaving College Health for Pediatrics. This anticipated change will happen next month, after a job search that lasted almost 8 weeks. I could go into vivid details, but I wouldn't want to bore you.

Suffice it to say I will have at least 5 days of orientation, including a seminar on G tubes, central lines in Peds, the ped respiratory assessment, psychosocial care of families, nutrition, pain management in children and everyone's favorite, proficiency at urine dips.

Here are some things I may (or may not) be leaving behind: coffee breaks, bathroom breaks (they go together like peanut butter and jelly), Name-that-rash, I hate-my-ex-Boyfriend, My pediatrician's office burned down so I don't have my immunizations and my favorite - I can't because I don't have INSURANCE.

The position is in the ambulatory care clinics at the children's acute care facility, float pool, which Mrs. Balabusta prefers to think of "Flying Squad". The nice part here is that this position can be full time one week and part time the next, and it can be three months in the same clinic, or three days, all in different places.

So Mrs. Balabusta is psyched and excited.......oh yes, and also getting a raise.

The Return of Mrs. Balabusta

2006-11-22T13:14:00.000-06:00

I know it's been a while.

I've been busy, as you know, a Balabusta never sits still.

But I have had a few things on my mind that I would like to share with the group.

Shows that I like this season - Heros, Medium, Studio 60, Doctor Who and MI-5. Discuss.
Bigfoot - Bigfoot has recently been sighted in Wisconsin, near Milwaukee no less. In Hartford and Holy Hill area, if you are familiar. But seriously, maybe he just dropped in for the Packer game, the team coulda used him too. Anyway, what's next? As my husband commented the other day, "Maybe someone will report seeing the Loch Ness Monster in Lake Winnebago."
My van is no more, I am back to the minivan stage. Which is not bad. The main thing about the minivan is that it fits in the garage, which locks. I will be posting about the GMC Savana and its factory defects in the future for anyone who wants a blow by blow.
We are making a Bar Mitzva for my third son. His perspective on it went something like this - For my oldest brother there were invitations with envelopes and RSVPs and the such - for the middle brother there were postcards with some ClipArt and the such - I will be lucky if you send out E-mails for my Bar Mitzva. He wasn't too far off. He got postcards, some with envelopes and RSVPs. Parshas Vayitzai, if your in the neighborhood, drop in. But most importantly---
This will be a family reunion of a kind. My grandfather will be coming from the old home to join us for Shabbos. My sister is coming with all her kids, My younger brother is bringing kids with him I never saw before, My husband's siblings are coming. It's going to be fun. Of course, there is some cooking to do first, so Mrs. Balabusta must be going now.

Talk amongst yourselves......

Bug Out!

2006-08-04T13:33:00.000-05:00

Now that the 9 days are over, it's time for the cities to empty and for everyone to head to the hills, or whereever, whatever.....

I cancelled my aerobics class because no one will be left in town. It seems like everyone I know is leaving town and going on the "last trip before school".

So if you're staying home, shout it out! and if not -

Last one out, turn off the lights!

Return to the DMV

2006-07-30T17:05:00.000-05:00

For those who want to schedule appts for road tests at the Wisconsin DMV, this is what you do.

Forget about it.

Actually, it is important to know that they open slots on the website at around 1 in the a.m. So if you check at 6 p.m. the website will tell you that all slots are taken through, say, October. Check back at 6 a.m. and you can have a slot that same day, or maybe the next.

For those of you interested, I return to the DMV tomorrow with Moe to get his 2nd driving test. So everyone get off the road.

And pray. Alot.

Mrs. Balabusta and the Summer Vacation

2006-07-02T21:44:00.000-05:00

Calm yourselves. I am not actually taking a vacation, nor have I been anywhere tropical.

I am however, not usually near a computer this time of year. For further information I will have to direct you to the new Blog of the Year called http://campmommy.blogspot.com brought to you by the Balabusta and those closest to her.

I Say There Monstrosity....

2006-06-23T15:50:00.000-05:00

Who can identify this monstrosity? Give up. I'll give you a clue. It lives in Chicago.
Anyone? Well I can admit that it might be difficult from this angle, (which is from the north). Let's try another shot.

Here you see a bit of the original arcitecture before the accident. Any takers? This is taken facing east. Okay. Obviously it is a building of some distinction. How about one more passing shot, this is from the south.

Give up? Anyone out there watch football (the real kind, with pads and helmets). One more clue - This is the building directly north of the monstrosity, taken from the side, but there was a lot of traffic. Obviously again, a building of some distinction.
So who can name the monstrosity?

Shiva information

2006-05-21T10:12:00.000-05:00

This post will be up for a limited amount of time.

My husband is sitting Shiva for his father in Hillcrest -Queens - NY.
He will be returning to Milwaukee Tuesday evening and will sit here until Thursday morning.

If you can make it over there, you can get the address via Fudge's info on his blog.

If you want to call, send me an e-mail and I will mail you back his phone number. Or you can call his parent's number (land line), which I believe is listed, again under his father's name.

Thank you again for all the concern and well wishes.

The Origins of Mrs. Balabusta

2006-05-18T09:42:00.000-05:00

Somebody on another blog wanted the origins of our blog names, which got me thinking, what better way to renew and re-initiate than with an inspection of the beginning.

Mrs. Balabusta is a song, my kids know too well, on the Seder Parader record that I have from my privileged but yet tormented childhood. I have become what I have beheld and I am content that I have done right - (extra credit - what movie is that from)?

Here are the words as best I can remember them. Tuesday can help out, but I have the actual record, so I think I will get more of it right.

Oh my name is Mrs. Balabusta - I'm so very busy.
Peseach may be fun for you, - But it just makes me dizzy.
There's a lot of things - A Balabusta has to do
Oh what lies before us
Sing along the chorus
Sing along the chorus
and you'll soon be busy too.

Oh there's cleaning, cooking, baking, shopping, polishing and waxing,
Dusting, mopping, no relaxing
There's no time for stopping
Finally the house is clean,
And yet there's more to do
Here come all the dishes
Pots and pans to rearrange.

Now I hope my Balabusta song won't make you think I'm lazy
But around this time each year, I think I'm going crazy
Just when I am done and every broom is out of sight
Oh I cannot stop now.
No I have to shop now.
No I have to shop now.
And cook for seder night.

And then the Cheerful Gladys Gewirtz comes and and says
"Mrs. Balabusta have no fear -
Your cheerful Seder Paraders are here
They'll help you with your cleaning
and they'll help you with your mopping -
They are even prepared to do your shopping!"

That's when my kids run in terror.

The four questions

2006-04-03T13:11:00.000-05:00

I would like to update you all on the construction this week. It goes something like this:
Mon- Paint prep
Tues - Sink and countertops
Wed - Paint? or Dishwasher?
Thurs - Floor
Fri - whatever didn't happen on Wednesday

Also, referring to the toddler part of the psychotoddler, we have four new questions.

Is this my drink?
Can I eat/drink this now?
Do I have to blow?
Is it all popped in? (for cereal, needs to be "popped" into the milk).

Repeat as necessary. She is nothing if not obsessive/compulsive.

54 Glorious Degrees

2006-03-30T11:00:00.000-06:00

It's WARM!

I went to work without a coat this morning!!! (No comments please from California People, you know who you are!)

Also, the microwave is installed and will be inaugerated this Peseach. The stove has been reconnected and the water line to the refrigerator. Sorry, no pics today.

Now we are awaiting the arrival of the sink, when the faucet will be redeemed and the sprayer and Insty-Hot will be joined to the plumbing to the sound of the garbage disposal's joyful humming and the gurgling of the U-joint in the drain. And after that.... countertops.

More construction pictures

2006-03-28T21:52:00.000-06:00

The stove in the old place, right in the middle of the kitchen.
On the right you can see it has moved 180 degrees to next to the door. There will be a microwave over the stove.

On the left you can see a built-in bench that had a little cushion on it that was very useful for dumping junk on, there was no storage place underneath at all. On the right now we have cabinets and soon we will have a counter on top too, instead of the ladder.

We are still awaiting the sink and dishwasher. Stay tuned.

Some Assembly Required

2006-03-27T19:16:00.000-06:00

Some Assembly Required

We have started construction of our undertaking to end all undertakings. The remodeling of our kitchen, the center of our home, and quite possibly, the universe as we know it. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, at least, we will use descriptive terms sparingly. First we start with the obscene, before shots.

As you can see, while there is storage space in the cabinets above the refrigerator, the fridgie doesn’t fit in this space very well. What you can’t see is that the thing is jammed in under the cabinets which have already been planed down to their very bones. Also, the openings to the cabinets are very small, such that you have to turn things sideways to get them in. Note the desk in the foreground.

The aforementioned desk is no more. When this desk was removed, there was mail behind there for the previous owners. The cabinet above the desk is of particular importance, because this is where the cereal was kept, in case you can’t read the sign that Fudge put there last year. So now we have….
Where the fridge used to be and
…this is what happed to the desk area.
There is a big deep cabinet above the fridge and a big, medium and small next to the fridge.

I thinks we may need to paint that wall sometime soon too.
But I digress.
Most of the kitchen still looks like this.

Luz and the mashed potatos

2006-03-09T18:15:00.000-06:00

This is a good story, when I tell it I get a warm feeling, so I thought I would share it with you.

In the fall of 2000, right around Thanksgiving time, when I was a senior in nursing school I in Community Health and I was assigned to a grade school in an "underserved" community that had a medical clinic in the basement. Each student was assigned a grade to develop health teaching for specific to that age group. By that time I had distinguished myself from my cohorts in many ways, notable and otherwise. It turns out the grade school also housed an "alternative" middle school which was a "last chance" sort of place. Although technically it was 6-8th grade, many of the students were 14-16 years old and had been in "juvie" at least once. My professor decided it was a perfect assignment for me. While my classmates were designing posters for "bike safety" and "weather awareness" I had to develop teaching plans for tattoos and tongue piercings. But I digress....

As I said this was a rough bunch of kids. I remember hardly any of their names, most of them were of Hispanic extraction or just mixed, all were mixed up. I do remember Luz. Luz was a 16 yo girl, who looked and dressed like a 13 year old boy. Luz came to school to eat. Her friends teased her that she lived in a dumpster, in truth, I don't know where she lived. She never had any money, she barely had a coat. The school served hot breakfast and hot lunch. The middle school kids ate in a separate dining area and as part of the "program" took turns serving the food to each other.

Luz had a problem eating meat. She never did. I don't know why, if it was religious or personal or what. She did eat chicken nuggets, but not meat or hot dogs, which was funny, cause most of the kids loved hot dogs. Luz loved mashed potatos. These were not real potatos by any stretch of the imagination. They were what I call spuds, you know, from a box. Anyway, when you hit the stairwell to the lunchroom you could smell the spuds and Luz's face would light up.

Although she was small, she managed to get in beginning of the lunch line and after she got her plate, would line up again at the back for seconds, while she was eating her firsts. After getting her seconds on potatos, and not eating the meat that was on her plate, she would head to her class table. She immediately gave away her meat for more potatos and extra milk. What happened next brings tears to my eyes even now.

Most of the kids at the table, and these were big 200 lb 6'4" bruisers who had never heard a kind word in their lives, asked Luz if she wanted more potatos. Her mouth was stuffed and I didn't think she would have room in that little body for anymore, but she smiled through the mashed potatos in her mouth and nodded emphatically. These kids who had nothing gave Luz extra potatos and extra milk until she had a little Mount Everest on her plate. They didn't know I was watching them, didn't care if I did, they were taking care of their own and I was proud of them.

And at the same time I felt ashamed. Kids with nothing, literally nothing, giving away half their lunch without a second thought while we complain and complain about how we have no money "for ourselves".

About a week after this happened we had the Thanksgiving Holiday recess. No school until Monday. I spent that Thanksgiving and a few more since then wondering if Luz had anything to eat for those days.

I still don't know.

comming attractions

2006-03-08T22:19:00.000-06:00

Coming soon to a blog near you.....

Shaloch Manos...

or "(2 prepared foods) x (6 kids) x their/your (50 closest friends)?"

Do the math - no credit if you don't show your work.

My skillet nap

2006-03-08T21:48:00.000-06:00

I had a skillet nap. Wow, that was great.

Yesterday, I woke up like usual, took my shower like usual, (actually, I might have that order reversed) but when I got out of the shower and reached for my towel on the right side, I felt a dagger or pain shoot into the left side of my neck. It was like in the movies when someones back goes out and they can't move. I think I saw that on Gilligan's Island or something.

Anyway, I decided I was tough stuff so I took some Motrin (600) and went off to work. Bad Idea. Every bump and pothole in the road (and this time of year there are potholes the size of Delaware) sent waves of pain through my shoulder to my neck. I knew what I needed, luckily we had some at home. Unfortunately, I was at work.

I decided to check with the HR office after two people at work who actually like me told me I looked like hell. It turns out (wait for it) I get sick time. I have never had sick time in my whole life! I said, "That's great! I'm going home." (I only had to reschedule one patient).

I ate my lunch, had some vitamin SK and promptly took a skillet nap. If you don't know what a skillet nap is, you should check out this homestar toon.

Anyway, my friend called at 3:40 and I answered the phone, but my speech was slurred. She thought I was having a stroke. I explained the circumstances to her through a mouth full of cotton. She felt for me, but wondered how I was planning on teaching my aerobics class when I couldn't really turn my head.

But I digress.... A skillet nap is a wonderful thing. I guess the moral of the story is to get some sleep, before the sleep gets to you.

Where are your boots?

2006-03-08T21:43:00.000-06:00

I would like an unscientific poll from my four readers on when is the correct time of year to put away your boots.

It is a proven fact that putting your boots in the closet before April can result in 4" of snow overnight. This hypothesis has been proven numerous times by countless grad students.

My sister has postulated that May is a safe date to her. Hear me now and believe me later, there is no safe time. And that goes double for snowpants.

To save time and toil, all you bloggers in states that receive no snow are disqualified from commenting. (Until you have shovelled the stuff and got some in your boots where it melts on just the inside of your ankle and your boots stay wet for a week, you haven't really lived.)

I know, I hear you get sand in your sneakers a lot. That must be rough.

Guess what I found?

2006-02-14T13:22:00.000-06:00

My mother, who has been immortalized in the Mr. Mom post, came over this morning straight from work. I was washing dishes when she came in. She had something tucked under her sweater.

Who, she wanted to know, is the science teacher at the kids' school? And is he in class now?

I confess since the older kids graduated I don't know who the science teacher is, but as they have Hebrew studies in the morning, I am pretty sure he isn't there now. This is when I noticed she was holding a jar under her sweater.

I implored her to get that (whatever it was) out of my house! "Put it in the car!"

My mother refused on the basis that "He'll freeze in the car."

I did not want to know what "he" was, because I have certain phobias and neurosis, which I can't imagine where they come from. By this time the kids were assembling in the kitchen to find out what I was screaming about. Finally, my mother settled at the kitchen table and opened her sweater (she never wears a coat over 10 degrees).

She had a beaker from the hospital, covered with gauze, taped around the sides with Millipore tape. Inside was some water, some leaves, and a tree frog - no bigger than my thumb.

Where, you may ask, did my mother catch a tree frog in Milwaukee? Well, it turns out she didn't have to go far. She was working nights at the hospital, watching the telemetry monitors, when she noticed the little fella hopping down the hallway. The hospital has recently undergone some remodeling, and the new furnishings include a lot of "foliage" of the living variety. Of course, I think most of the green stuff was supposed to be part of the Vegetable Kingdom, not Animal. But I digress...

My mother was looking for a nice warm place for Mr. Frog to live where he would be happy and have food. After several colorful suggestions, I got my mother to agree to give him to the kindergarten teacher at the kids' school, who promised to look after the frog.

You may read this and think I have a dubious future as a case manager, but I say -

"What did you accomplish before 8:30 this morning ? Huh?

Tuna Fish for Lunch

2006-02-13T13:13:00.000-06:00

I want to start this post with a little background information about my life with tuna fish.

As my husband has already stated many times, there isn't a place in the 'verse I can go without packing a tuna sandwich in a cooler. You multiply that out by my age, and it adds up to a whole world of mayonaisse.

Having said that, I am always on the lookout for new, interesting ways to eat tuna. I came across a "fancy restaurant" recipe for tunasalad that was printed in the paper some years back. It has tuna, eggs, onions, pickle relish, chopped tomatos, olives (if desired) and Miracle Whip. I made this several times and since there was so much stuff in it, we decided to call it "funky tuna".

Of course, I have a daughter who thinks Miracle Whip is the scourage of humanity and won't touch it. So I had to use Hellman's.

And my husband doesn't like to eat onions when he has to see patients, so I had to leave out the onions.

Another son doesn't really care for the pickle relish in there (green, eww), and the PT doesn't like the white stuff, which when I told her they were eggs, she assumed I meant egg-shells.

So basically, we were back to tuna and mayonaisse. Well, Friday I decided to make myself a little funky tuna so I would have something to eat for lunch next week. I made two cans of tuna, hardboiled eggs, everything I needed, the works, and filled a quart container with tuna salad and stuck it in the fridge.

This morning, I am all that having-a-plan-together-for-my-lunch-today, and I take out the quart container and there is just almost 'bout enough left for one sandwich.

Wondering to myself what happened to all my funky tunafish, I happened serendipiously on the Theory of Spontaneous Consumption, otherwise known as If You Make it, They Will Come.

I'll be in my bunk.

Winter Olympics my foot

2006-01-18T13:37:00.000-06:00

One of the local co-anchors was joking about starting the Knitting Olympics. I would like to see the Mommy Olympics. This is a gag I have had running with my friends for some time - the stamina, the endurance, the sheer athletics of Mommyhood. As the mother of six, I can tell you that Olympic athletes, while they may be strong and fast, can't touch the stuff we do every day. Here are some of the Mommy Olympic Events and their venues:

The Iron Woman Triathelon
Put three kids under 5 in snowsuits, get them to Pick n Save, complete an hour of grocery shopping, negotiate two carts back to the car and get the kids and the food in the house before the kids start screaming for lunch.

Distance Marathon
This is a vehicle event, where one kid has to go to soccer/sport, one music/art, and the other a dentist/doctor appt. All have to be scheduled after school but before dinner. All participants must pass the "dope test" and illegal parking is not allowed.

Synchronized swim
While this category is usually found in the summer olympic, it can be adapted to the winter season if you are getting a quick
trip to the Dells or another water park. This is where you have 5-6 kids in several different pools, ponds, slides and rivers, and know where they all are at all times. Several point deductions are made for saying "I thought he was with you!"

Competitive Carpool
This is a vehicle event which features many intricate moves and maneuvers you thought were only seen in NASCAR. Some of the compulsory elements for the technical score include the curb pull up and hook shot drop off. The judges will be looking for original composition in negotiating lane change, and pulling back into traffic. Several points are available for flexibility and athleticism in buckling the car seats and seat belts. This can be a team event, with a separate event in coordinating schedules for carpools.

and the finale which only the strong of heart and knees can stand to watch...

The School Supply Shopping Event
More slippery than the luge, more intricate than a triple toe loop, more risky than the grand slolam and often more violent than a hockey game, this event features coordination, athleticism, patience, endurance, stamina and a keen sense of reflexes bordering on precognition. Participants in this event must pass the regional new lunch box competition and the nationals backpack/bookbag competition. You must bring the children shopping with you to qualify. Extra credit for high school students and lists. Participants are required to sign an injury waiver before competing.

and all the guys in Torino have to do is skate and ski? And get this, they only have to do it once!

sunshine? what does that look like?

2006-01-08T10:27:00.000-06:00

Some people may be under the impression that winter in Milwaukee is cold and gray. This is, in fact, abundantly true. It has been 18 days without sunshine, and I point you to the local newspaper.

http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/jan06/383508.asp

A clarification at this point: It is always cold. 40s is warm. 30s okay. 20s is normal. I am just referring to the visual presence of sunshine, not the feel of the sun on your face that you might get if you lived in a more temperate zone, say, southern California.

Nonetheless, today I am told by reputable news sources, that we can expect sunshine and a high of 41 degrees. Try to control your glee, it will probably only last the one day. For anyone out there who doesn't believe Seasonal Affective Disorder is real, I say to you now, have you spent a winter in Wisconsin?

And if so, why?

They came, they saw..... they left?

2006-01-03T18:13:00.000-06:00

Many years ago when I had 3 little kids and a littler baby I acquired a Polish cleaning lady who was excellent. She came every Thurs morning and I paid her $40/wk, although one time I paid her with a table instead. She moved on around somewhere around the time child #5 hit 2, and that was good for both of us.

Mrs. Balabusta has been very good about mobilizing the troops when it comes to cleaning the house. It is easy if you have a broom handy, (for the troops, not the house). Just swat anything that isn't moving.

The troops, however, haven't been hanging around the hood, as it were. Though when they come back they can be enticed to wash the occasional floor, on the whole, the cleaning has been getting slightly behind. Emphasis on the word slightly. These flucuations are to be expected from time to time. But then 2 things happened:

1. The rabbi told a story that started with his cleaning lady pressing the alarm button on his clock radio.
2. The PT saw The Beanies Abode.

Either way, the PT said we should have a cleaning person come in. The problem is we don't live in an affluent enough neighborhood that is custom to that kind of vendor and the second problem is while our neighborhood is diversified, it does not harbor the type of immigrant that typically would take such work. It seemed we were at an empass.

Then I took to the Yellow pages. I found one company that came and gave me what I thought was a reasonable estimate - $100 for the first time cleaning and something less for each time after. After three appointments, we finally set upon a time for this afternoon. I left a key in a secret location for them.

They came finally, took a look around, and left a note that basically said - "Thanks, but no thanks". (Mind you they had already seen the house). In fact, it looked better this time. I had cleaned off all the counters, put away all the toys and the kids worked on the laundry in the bedrooms.

I have to tell you all how I felt when I read her card: Relieved.

I did not sleep all last night and now I think I was nervous about having a stranger in my house touching and moving all our stuff. I also don't need the pressure of getting everything ready for the cleaning people, and then the inspection process after the fact and the mind numbing mental justification cartwheels that I have to do to get past spending the money on something I can do myself.

So - no cleaning help. No big deal. Maybe I can sleep tonight. After I teach my kicking aerobics class that is.

Welcome to 2006

2006-01-01T21:05:00.000-06:00

I don't as a rule celebrate New Year's, but I do have an extra day off, so I feel like celebrating. Actually, I have been off work for a week, a phenomenon known as "shutdown", literal translation is "We're closed".

Here are the things I have done for shutdown:
1. Cleaned out my desk. This is a process known in technical circles as decrapification. This was an open decrapification, because, as opposed to a closed decrapification, where only the surface of the desk is cleaned off, this was an open procedure and I actually disected the bowels of my desk, opening and expunging various folders. This resulted in a pile of waste that could not be red bagged, and therefore required the PT to go out and buy a shredder. Post procedure ancillary shredding was therefore required.
2. Met other nurses for coffee at a mall. It was a reunion of allergy nurses from 2002-3, so we had some catching up to do, and as usual, bitching and moaning. However, we actually got the chance to get together and look at each others pictures and catch up, which was fun, and I was glad I had the chance.
3. Washed my car. Had to - I think the geese got to it.
4. Cleaned my house, really, got to some cabinets that I had written off a long time ago and took them apart. More decrapification ensued but without the shredding. This was just garbage.
5. Entertained my cousin who visited for a week. It wasn't hard, he slept a lot.
6. Finished knitting one scarf, started another project.
7. Visited my grandparents.
8. Went to see King Kong with a cro magnon.

I could go on and on. I do more before breakfast than a lot of people do all week, but I digress. I found that I enjoy vacations and I enjoy time off of work. I guess that makes me almost human after all.

Universal City on Sunday

2005-12-15T13:48:00.000-06:00

Motzei Shabbos we had the famous blog dinner which will be adequate re-reported in the Psycho ward, so I will move onto Sunday.

First of all, we got sort of a late start because our husbands decided to go to the hospital and round first, which didn't turn out at all as they planned, but is adequate reported here.

Then we had to pack some tuna sandwiches. This is an important part of any trip, as has been chronicled before and yes, even in California, people pack a cooler with tuna sandwiches. Personally, I had the eggsalad and it was great.

We went to Universal Studios. I really wanted to see where Jay Leno filmed the Tonight Show, but this was not that place. That place only had tours on Mon-Fri, so we had to settle for a theme park. Little did I know, until I was on the tour, that this is where they taped that award winning and never-forgettable saga - Columbo. We were in the presence of history.

For these past 16 years we have been visiting theme parks with strollers, diaper bags and yes, tuna sandwiches in tow, pockets stuffed with Kleenex and 15 other things we might need. This trip was different. First of all, it was the most expensive theme park I have been to, and has less rides and attractions than any other, (I think you pay for the Columbo factor). But I digress.

The point is - We left the kids at home! On purpose! (lest you think otherwise).

This was a double date, for grownups. We still made numerous bathroom stops and still had to stuff Kleenex in our pockets, but other than that, it was just fun. The park is full of subliminal advertising for Universal movies and shows. Some of it wasn't subliminal, it was actually kind of obvious. At the end of every ride/show someone said "The new King Kong movie, in theaters this coming Wednesday, is AWESOME!"

The shows that we saw had first rate talent - the kind of talent that goes out to California to make it big in the TV/movie business and winds up doing stunts in a Waterworld Show at a theme park, maybe you know the kind? Anyway, it beats the kind that does the Batman Thrill Show in Gurnee Illinois from May to Sept.

As you can see in the picture, I am next to Storm from the X-Men Playstation Game and Mark is next to Capt. America, who I think is wearing his own chest there.

We went on the Studio Tour, which was by far the coolest ever, and the Jurassic Park ride (which was Pirates of the Caribbean with Dinosaurs and a mean 84 foot drop) and a Mummy ride, which I do not recommend for people of sound or unsound mind or body. Certainly Mrs. Bean and I did not enjoy it, and we fancied that we may have taken years off of our lives just then. We saw the Special Effects show, which was fun and quick paced and the Waterworld show, which actually slowed down when the show started, but if you like to see things on fire I would recommend this. Also we went into the Haunted house, though I can't remember why. There was a simulator ride for Back to the Future that we declined, and we skipped the Backdraft show. But other than that, we did everything there.

Universal Studios is not a theme park for kids, certainly not little kids. (Pyschotoddlers are allowed however.) It was however, the most fun we have had in years. I think the best part of the park had to be the view of the mountains behind it.

Oh, and I think Universal would like everyone to go out and see King Kong at least once. (I don't know what made me say that.)

Shabbat in California

2005-12-14T09:20:00.000-06:00

The next installment of my vacation post will cover the elements unknown to man, yet perfectly clear to woman, especially a balabusta. We can be reasonably sure I will not be overlapping the PT in his blog.

The pure time mechanics of this trip are that California is 2 hours behind Wisconsin, so Shabbos in Milwaukee started around 2 in LA. Also, if you normally wake up at 7 in Milwaukee, you can sleep an extra 2 hours and still get up at 7 in California. Amazing, I know. I we could bottle this, we would really be in the money, but I digress. Due to some differences in latitude, there is also a half hour lag aside from the time zone issues, but I don't want to muddy the waters.

Shabbat with the Beans was beautiful, but unpretentious, which is good, because Mrs. Balabusta is not about pretense. If my little kids are washed and in pajamas (even at 4 p.m.) before Shabbos starts we are in good shape. I don't think I would get them dressed for company (even if we had company) at that hour. Usually, though, I don't even attempt company at night because I personally am not at my best and my kids definitely are not at their best and that whole ball of stress just goes away if I cede Friday night and only invite company to lunch. Nonetheless we were invited for all of Shabbat, (Wisconsin being a rather long walk home), and it turned out great. I must record the Dr. Beans MIL cooked dinner for Friday night, which included a yummy carrot barley soup, corned beef (Dr.Bean calls this "cow") cabbage, potatoes and chocolate birthday cake by Mrs. Bean for Dr. Bean's Birthday. All this was served on the finest china and serving platters which made a beautiful dining room look positively elegant. My dining room would look like that if I moved the Craftsman tool box down to the basement - and did like 100 more things to it. The Beans in laws joined us for dinner and delightful conversation, where we discussed the finer etiquette of deer hunting and ice fishing. But I digress again.

I wanted to talk about the most important element of being on vacation. While at the Bean's abode, I had to let many things go. Mrs. Balabusta is perpetually in control of many things, close to everything, most, if not all of the time. In California I was in control of little to nothing. Maybe I picked out my clothes in the morning, (wait, my friend J did that for me). I ate what was served, and I loved it. I wore what was packed. I conversed with those at the table. So many of my bundles of joy and stress were handed over to people I know and love, that I was carrying such a light load I was practically floating on air. That was a wonderful feeling. The company was stimulating and entertaining, exhillarating in the sense that you didn't know what to expect or what would come next, but you didn't want to miss anything. And most importantly, we were with friends.

Another interesting note involves Mr. Balabusta, aka the PT or Dr. PT to you. It turns out I have a husband. I was at the wedding in 1987 and I remember flowers and a cake, but the rest is sort of a blur. When you exclude all the background noise, that has become the sounds of your lives, and have the time to actually see and hear each other, it comes back to you, "Yeah, I remember you. Long time no see." The Beans lent us their car on Sunday so we could go out for a "romantic" dinner alone, and I laughed. But it was nice and it was good. Dr. PT commented that in California I was more like I was before we had kids. I have to take his word for it, I don't remember what I was like before kids. Having said that, over vacation I felt like something I haven't been in a long time. I don't know what to call it, but it was good. It wasn't just a vacation for Mrs. Balabusta, it was a vacation from Mrs. Balabusta.

Los Angeles, Friday

2005-12-13T12:46:00.000-06:00

This will be a travel blog after the fact, easy on the facts. I am blogging this for no one in particular, but I want to remember this trip very much, so I will record it as it happened, for posterity.

But first, you have to remember what it looked like before we left. So aside from leaving 5 kids behind, we had very good reason to go.

It stopped snowing at midnight, which was good enough for the airport to clear away the snow and get our plane de-iced and ready to leave. Of course some of you will remember it was the same snowy Thursday night that a plane, while landing at Midway in Chicago slid off the runway. But since we weren't flying through Midway, and the snow had stopped we were optomistic. Here is what Milwaukee looked like the next morning.

Our flight was delayed by half an hour because we were waiting for the pilot and then we were waiting for the first mate. Now how would you like it if you showed up to work and had 80 some people waiting for you with their hands on their hips. But I digress. I do want to say that when the pilot did show up (I could see him walk across the tarmak and up the stairs to our plane), he had his pilot's cap, the map briefcase in his right hand and a snowbrush in his left. So what was he going to do, roll down the window and start brushing off the snow? This was in fact, exactly what happened. So here is what happened next:

And so would you.

As we got on the plane my husband and I passed a woman with a baby folding a stroller on the jetway and we commented how it has been a long time since we took a trip without a diaper bag, or a stroller or a baby for that matter and yet here we were.

It didn't last long. I recognized a friend of mine from work with her baby and they were going to California on the same plane so I offered to hold the baby while she secured the car seat and got herself situated. My husband turned around and said, "Well, that lasted like 4 minutes."

Still it was a record.

Mrs. Balabusta meets PS2

2005-11-21T09:32:00.000-06:00

Well, I may be putting my reputation on the line but here goes.

Yesterday, I played with my husband's Playstation. It all started with a trip to Target to get socks for my youngest son whose socks have been shanghied by his brothers and are now serving time in Yeshiva. The guy really had no socks, just a bunch of sock molecules and some plasma holding them together.

Of course at Target, where I might add, people were ripping things off the walls like Christmas was tomorrow, they also sell PS2 games. What a relief! If they didn't we might have to go to Best Buy, and that's a parking lot you don't want to get into until like Next January or so, unless you upgrade your car insurance to include "Freaks Of Nature" - but I digress.

So they sell PS2 games at Target and although that is usually a site where I can park the kids while I pick up the tinfoil and sandwich bags, this time I parked the PT there. When we got to the checkout line there was a game in my basket. I held it up and said "And what is This??" to which the PT replied without missing a beat, "On Sale." (he knows me really well.)

In the name of Shalom Bayis, I said "uh huh". Turns out he bought an X-Men game (I like X-men) for PS2. When we got home he offered me a turn to be Wolverine (I like Wolverine). The fastest way to get my attention is to offer me unlimited superpowers.

Turns out it was fun, once I figured it out. And we have two controllers so someone could play with me, which was also fun. My thumb was getting a little stiff after the first couple of hours. There - I said it. I played Playstation for a couple of hours and it was fun.

Now maybe the PT will start knitting and the universe will be complete.

Health Insurance - Don't get me started.

2005-11-19T21:09:00.000-06:00

Because my husband is a doctor, he qualifies as both the employer and the employee and for the purposes of health insurance, we pay both halves of the premium. You shudder to think what that might be, and if you aren't shuddering, you should start shuddering.

It's about $1400/month.

Let me tell you what we get for that. I have in my hand an EOB from Blue Cross about my son's foot surgery. He had ingrown toenails and had 3 margins excised and cauterized, which I might mention is a permanent fix to an otherwise constant problem. All of it done on an outpatient basis, local anesthesia, no preop and no follow up.
The DPM charged $1012, (probably wishful thinking on his part, but we all have our dreams.)
The insurance company adjusted his charges, per contract, to $286.02.
Less my $25 copay, and the $224.04 they applied to my deductible.
Blue Cross paid the DPM a whopping $36.98.

I don't know about you, but I can't fill up my car for that amount.

This is about the time where I started explaining to my husband that your copay is a flat tax you pay just for utilizing "the system". The deductible, is really a misnomer, but in our case is $1500/person and $3000/family. It isn't deducted from anything, it's the amount you have to pay out of your pocket before the insurance will kick in. Which brings us to our next term, out of pocket. Stay with me here, the deductible does not go towards your out of pocket limits, even though it comes out of your pocket. Only copays and coinsurance counts towards your out of pocket.

I had Physical Therapy over the summer for my Achilles Tendon, all ordered by an orthopod, for which I received a bill of $2000, which the insurance company cut in half, literally, and then applied it towards my deductible. I called the company up on this one and said, "Aren't you supposed to pay like 80% after you cut the charges in half?" The answer is no, because they don't pay for physical therapy.

Go read your policy.

I have a couple of suggestions about what they can go do, and they can use my policy to do it - because you know what - That's about what it's good for.

V' haMaivin Yavin. (all the rest of you can use your imaginations)

Be careful what you ask for....

2005-11-07T13:14:00.000-06:00

So I come back from lunch and my waiting room is full with 3 girls slouched over in chairs.

I quickly duck into Student Services and ask the receptionist, a Student Worker named Molly, if anyone has anything they would like to tell me.

Without missing a beat Molly replied, "You look very spiffy with the pink sweater on today-"

She cracked me and my assistant up, while we were laughing, I thanked her, but asked her if she had any information about the pts in the waiting room.

She didn't know there were patients in my waiting room. I thanked her again and told her I would be back tomorrow for an "update".

Now where did I leave my pants?

2005-11-03T20:25:00.000-06:00

I have finished all the ironing downstairs and I have made an amazing discovery.

First of all, I don't think the boys took any towels back with them so one can only guess if they are taking any showers.

Second, I found three of Moe's pants down there. So I don't know what he is wearing. He wouldn't fit in his brother's pants, although I am not sure that would stop him.

Third, there are at least 8 shirts and 2 pairs of tzizis down there. So what are they wearing and pray tell, what did they "pack" for 3 days?

Inquiring minds what to know.

I had a really weird dream

2005-11-03T20:10:00.000-06:00

This qualifies as strange, but completely understandable, doubly so for New Yorkers, extra credit for those of you from Da Bronx.

We used to live at AECOM (Einstein) before we found religion and moved out to Wisconsin, (just kidding). Anyway, in my dream I am standing at the bus stop on the corner of Morris Park and Eastchester Rd, waiting for the Bx21 to take me down to 180th and East Tremont where I would catch the 5, (and then later the 2) to the city. This was something I did pretty much every day for a long time, unless the Bx31 came first, in which case I could get down to Westchester Square and catch the 6 (express in the Bronx, local in Manhattan) to work.

So I am standing on the corner and I look down at my watch and it reads 20 of 4, which I thought was strange, because I now wear a digital watch, not a face, and I was wondering what happened to the one I put on this morning, and then I realized that we changed the clocks and it would be getting dark in like 20 minutes.

The Bx21 pulled up and I got on. I called Mark from my cell on the bus. I am not going to make it I told him. I forgot about the extra hour, near panic closing in. Just get on the train, he says.

Now I am at East Tremont. I haven't thought about this train station in over ten years, but I tell you in my dream I could smell it. Do I have money for another fare, I think it's over $2 now. The train pulls up, I hear it but I am still downstairs. Panic - as you know, the train you hear pull up is always the one that gets away, just a fact.

I started running - running - then I woke up. In Milwaukee.

Well, that was an unscheduled stop.

Simchas Torah

2005-10-24T14:27:00.000-05:00

Getting this in under the wire.

The most important thing to remember about Simchas Torah is not to wear a turtleneck sweater to Hakafos, no matter how cold it looks outside. It is always a mistake to wear a sweater, I speak from experience.

After that, I want you to enjoy the experience. Very little of Yiddishkeit is as touchy feely as Simchas Torah. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself stress free. Bring snacks, that's a start. Drinks too, go crazy.

We used to have apples. Remember that?

Things I love, not that anyone asked.

2005-10-22T20:44:00.000-05:00

I just finished a book by Naomi Ragen that I must highly recommend The Ghost of Hannah Mendes. Especially around the holidays. But here are a few other things I really love.

Books - Anything by Naomi Ragen, Mary Stewart, John Jakes (except the Americans series).

Movies -

Chicago
The King and I (Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr)
A Field of Their Own (makes me cry)
The Hunt for Red October
Anything with Jason Statham in it, namely The Transporter and the Transporter 2, (what can I say?)

Medium (my favorite show), I especially like the middle daughter, every line she says is amazing.
West Wing
Battlestar Galactica (it rubs off).
Monk (we share some of the same neuroses).

Shout out if you're with me.

Succos - Or 7 short days to insanity

2005-10-20T13:36:00.000-05:00

I am not going to comment on the relative merits of Succos vs Pasech - We could write a book going back and forth on this. There are very few holidays that are as "touchy feely" as Succos. There is actually stuff to do and stuff to see. For the women, mostly see.

With that in mind, I took my girls to shul early so they could see Hallel and Hoshanas from the balcony (really good view). To do this we had to get lunch in order and in the oven (mostly) and get to shul by I figured 9:40. I got there at 9:50 and they were just about to start Kriyas Shma. But I digress....

Before Hallel, the Rabbi tried to explain how everyone should preferably do the naanuim together and not "like the wave" (He actually said that). Here is how much his motivational speech helped - not at all. Forget the wave, it was closer to Hurricane Katrina.

After that, they tried to rearrange some furniture so that they would be able to "circle" for Hoshanas. As the women in the balcony said to each other: "These guys are holding 2 things in one hand, a machzor in the other hand, keeping the place, with no breakfast---and now you want them to move furniture?"

Shtenders were moved, and moved back, chairs were moved, and moved back. We finished Hoshanas like 10:40. Then I went home to finish up the rest of lunch. I also put together some bagels for the girls, who were in the playroom, and then went back to shul for Musaf.

Then we came home at 12:30 and had 13 people at lunch, which was salmon and it was delicious. Also the oatmeal bread with fresh honey butter went like the wind. I highly recommend it.

to be continued in the last days.

And now for a word about dry cleaning

2005-10-07T15:52:00.000-05:00

I just spent $14.40 to have 3 blouses dry cleaned. Somebody stop me.

First of all, one of them was a fancy blouse I wore to 2 weddings with "things" on it that needed to be wrapped extensively before cleaning or they would rip the shirt apart, so I thought it best to leave that to an expert.

The other was a rayon twinset. Rayon - don't get me started. It looks great, it feels heavenly, but you pay for it the rest of your life. For quite a while, I felt I was going to "home dry clean it" and then I was going to hand wash it. Then, since I was already taking the other blouse to the dry cleaners, I figured, go for it.

I hate paying for dry cleaning. It's like paying rental on clothes you already bought. I figure $2/shirt or sweater should be good enough. But over $4 - just extortion.

Fudge has blogged extensively on dry cleaning, so I will leave the verities to her. I just wanted to blow off some steam.

Also, I don't want to buy another thing that is dry clean only, (excepting coats) If I can't tumble it dry, it isn't coming home with me. That goes for anything that is 100% cotton as well. You buy it, you iron it. Rayon is out. It's polyester from here on out. And by the way, the younger boys suit pants go in the washing machine and dryer just fine, have for years.

Dry cleaning, the worlds second oldest profession.

Paper Plates and the cost of doing business.

2005-10-06T18:36:00.000-05:00

I seem to have touched a nerve on the issue of disposable dishes especially around the holiday season. Let's review the options.

On the cons of disposable:
Increased trips to the trash bin.
Higher cost.
Increased grocery bags to bring in the house.
Variable quality, poor performance.
Decreased prestige and table ambiance.
That :fake feel: in the mouth, et al.

On the pros of disposable:
Decreased clean up time.
Planned obsolescence.
Can set the whole table with a matching set.
Can vary the look of the table for the occasion.
Can be used for Milchig or Fleishig or both.

So let me hear you weigh in on the matter and tell me what you choose and why. At the end, we will talley up and see who's a macher and who's a shlocker.

Meal pattern planning for Yomtov

2005-10-03T11:42:00.000-05:00

This is not going to be a recipe post so don't go running for the hills. The idea is to give you a plan, or method of planning so that you don't wind up cooking for 40 people 10 times.

I also am not going to discuss the merits of paper plates (Or styrofoam for that matter). Personally, I like to eat on dishes. I think most people do. It's the washing that gets you going. It's a trade off, and everyone knows what their limits are. So you can figure that part out for yourself.

In my family, we are not huge meat eaters, so many of these plans involve milchig or parve meals. For some, this will be an anethema. However, trust me, after a the first few chickens, you begin to think you want something else out of life. Usually I place the milchig meal in the middle of the day, which lends itself to numerous milchigs treats and then go back to chicken soup and kneidl after kiddush, which only seems right.

So, these milchig meals that I speak of, what are they really. It depends. We need something that can be cooked in advance and reheated, or eaten at several different times. Exhibit A: Fish. That salmon gifilte fish is just great. You can bake it, or boil it, defrost it halfway, then slice, bread and fry it up. With some baked potatos you have a meal. Also, there are the fish filets now, salmon and tilapia, seasoned and not. If you serve these once, you can serve the leftovers in a salad, or in a pasta salad.

Exhibit B: Lasange. Always a big hit in my house. YOu can make it with the fake meat, or with a vegie filling. Assemble in advance, freeze or refrigerate, put in the oven and forget about it. This also works for Eggplant parmigan and tuna noodle casserole. Either way, I like to start this with a cream of mushroom or mushroom barley soup and serve with a leafy salad. Ice cream pie for desert, yum.

Exhibit C:We will call this short cuts. These are for the times, for example after hakafos or after too many days of Yomtif, when you don't want a big meal. My biggest seller here is tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwichs. But there is an entire omlet section, french toast (oven or griddle)(good for when you have a lot of leftover challa)potato latkes (not just for pasech anymore) and the salad bar with croutons and cheese and eggs or fish in there, apples, raisen, craisens, nuts - Go crazy. And EZ clean up too.

Finally, and most importantly, have on hand a pound of sliced deli meat (baloney works for me) at least a lb of tuna and some eggsalad in the frig. When the kids say they are hungry, feed them a sandwich. You work on the meals, the snacks will take care of themselves. There is nothing wrong with a tuna bagel and a banana at 11:20 when lunch is still 2 hours away. Hungry Children = stress, and the corrolary Hungry Mommy = ++ stress ++. So as long as it's not a fast day. Eat.

Lastly, remember to take care of yourself. I said it before, put on your own oxygen mask first, otherwise, the rest won't matter. You may be a mom, but you are also a person. You have feelings and you have needs and you don't need to apologize for either. So be good to yourself, whatever that takes, and Mrs. Balabusta will see you on the other side.

Rosh Hashana Primer

2005-10-02T10:05:00.000-05:00

This is the part of the juggling routine where you have more balls in the air than it is possible to catch, so you have to decide which one you can let fall and if there is something soft for it to land on.

Let me preface this, (whatever this turns out to be) by saying that Yomin Noraim are not for rookies. The davening is off the wall, by that I mean not what we usually say, or even in a normal pattern, and the accent of the Chazan is different that we usually hear here, and the timing all around is not so good. By that I mean, shofar blowing comes right about the same time as every kid gets hungry, a little after 11. So if you are going to stick it out for the whole show, you need to have a little bag of tricks. Since I like you, I am going to share my Rosh HaShana secrets here, and since I am Mrs. Balabusta, these will be tips for women with kids of various ages. Men: You are on your own.

Quit while you are ahead. Set a goal for yourself that is attainable: for example, your first year or two out I think a reasonable goal is to get to shul for shofar. Bonus points if you get to hear Henini, but be prepared to leave any time in the bonus round. From Mizmor Ldovid to the end of tkiyos is roughly 45 minutes. You will need to bring 5 books, 2 stuffed animals (small, beanies are good and quiet) and a box of graham crackers or cheerios (depending on # of teeth involved) and a water bottle or other drink. Daven whatever from Shachris you want to say at home before you go. Make sure the kids have snack around an hour before shofar, usually fruit in my house, and that they went to the bathroom or were changed. Expect to arrive 10 minutes before shofar is actually supposed to happen.
Don't push your luck. If you get everything lined up correctly and lets say you even get to stay for silent musaf and the baby starts waking up or other kids are getting fried.... then leave. While you are still in a good mood and the kids have still had a positive experience at shul. You have to trust me on this, you will not win anything by staying longer, and you will lose your patience and good feeling that you got in the bonus round. You got to know when to hold em, and know when to fold em.
Keep company to a minimum. This is a hard thing to do, personally we should have 16 people sitting down the second day for lunch. But the idea is to keep stress at a minimum, do not overbook. Have one big meal with company, but do not have company at every meal and serve 7 courses 4 times. That is a lot of work. If you are going to have a yom tov like that, don't plan on going to shul. You can do one or the other, but not both, or I should say, not both well. If you plan on where you are going to put your energies, and stick to it, you won't feel stretched beyond imagination.
Know yourself. This item should be on every list ever made. Basically I refer to normal patterns of behavior, we all have them. If by the end of the day you feel like a wrung out dishrag, do not invite company for dinner, stick with lunches. If you enjoy having company after your kids are in bed, but can't talk with them hanging on your lap and pulling on your blouse, don't do lunches, stick with dinners. The rule is - play from your strength! Corrolary to this is, take in to account your husband's strengths and weaknesses. It does no good to invite company at night, if he has been standing in shul for hours on end and is worn out, and then complain that he wasn't entertaining. He has to buy into the plan. If he gives a "Whatever you want." answer, then he is buying whatever you plan and you can hold him to it - (I would put it too him in just those words, wait a minute, I already did).
Have Fun. This is important. (Men, you can tune back in now, I'm talking to you). This is a chag, zman simchsainu, so we should enjoy it. Eat what you want, can be brisket, can be salmon, can be tuna patties and tomato soup. Make snacks that your kids will enjoy that you feel comfortable with them eating. I like apple crisp for Rosh Hashana. I make apple sauce with the kids (they can mash it up, you can't hurt applesauce). Remember that you are making memories here, and they should be warm, happy, good ones. I don't care if the silver is polished or not, no one remembers that. They remember singing in the kitchen, peeling massive amounts of potatos together and the smell of the soup when you walk into the house. Enjoy yourself, enjoy your husband and enjoy your family. Enjoy your life, it's a gift, a privlige and it's up to you.

Kesiva v'Chasima Tova to everyone and your families.

Tales from the Dark Side or yesterday's packer game

2005-09-12T18:27:00.000-05:00

Notice the green font
Now for the yellow-----

This is because I am a packer fan and it is mandatory that we have green and gold on Monday morning - although that may be repealled before lunch, considering the circumstances.

I am not the first nor only person to state clearly and for the record that the Packers did not play well yesterday - actually, they didn't play yesterday, they just stood around and scratched their crotchs, except for Javon Walker, who got a lot accomplished. He cleared up exactly what his role is going to be in the offense of 2005.

Most people I know are surprised when they find out I like football. It wasn't really a lifestyle choice, more of a survival technique. When I was little and my mother worked on Sunday (actually she still does, it's a byproduct of having off on Saturday), my grandparents would load us into the car to go to the mall so Grandma could do her "shoplifting" (Not really, that's just a little joke).

While Grandma was off shopping we stayed with Grampa at Sears in the Television section (color), watching the game with the rest of humanity, whose wives were no doubt, also shopping precisely during the Packer game. Although I didn't know it at the time, it was not unlike a bar on a Monday night game, just slightly more sober.

Anyway, it was here that I learned all about football and I probably learned it from the best. I wondered what "off sides" meant, where there didn't seem to be any sides in particular that were "on sides", and clipping had nothing to do with a scissors, and my favorite "intentional grounding" which meant the other 900 passes that were incomplete were obviously unintentionally grounded. As a teenager, this penalty came to have a double meaning, but I digress.....

I also developed a healthy disdain for Da Bears and Da Vikings, although later when I moved to Chicago, my other grandfather taught me the proper reverance for Papa Bear Hallas and the respect for Sweetness, Walter Payton, and of course, the Refrigerator, William Perry. Anyway, during this time the Packers didn't have much of a team thing going anyway.

But now I am back in Wisconsin and Da Packers are a religion of to themselves. Most people who don't know my husband assume that he is a Packer fan, those that do know him, don't seem surprised that he can watch about as much football as he can baseball, or water polo, which is to say, not that much.

But they are more surprised to hear that I do like football, understand it, or even give a damn. Many a wedding and annual dinner have I spent in the hotel bar "getting an update" such that when the perennial "mincha" call came out, a few men suggested they could count me.

Actually, Curly was born during Monday night Football, 1993, Chargers vs Raider. True story - and one I probably don't tell often, but I saw the doctor earlier in the day and he told me I could go to the hospital anytime I felt ready. So naturally, I went home and did 4 loads of wash and cooked a big pot of noodles. Then I was ready. I checked in around 6 and my doctor saw me in the first quarter. I told him I was doing well. By the second quarter the game was heating up. I told the doctor to come back at halftime. Curly was born during halftime and I caught most of the last quarter.

To this day when I see Stan Humphries I get cramps.

3 little chickens

2005-09-05T20:07:00.000-05:00

I would like to post about my rockin aerobics course, but that's not very Balabusta-like, so let me tell you about life in a closer family.

Where to start?

I took a leaf out of the table. I have to admit it, that kitchen table is 60" oblong without a leaf, each leaf is 18" and there are two of them. So far, we have only put one in. I took it out. I figure, when the boys come home for Shabbos (2 weeks), we may eat in the dining room, who knows who else will come in with them? Also, that big table is a bear to wash and an elephant in the room when sweeping. Took some chairs out of the kitchen too.

I cleaned up Fudge's closet and the boys room and dressers. Washed the Kitchen floor. It's like I'm taking back my house. Caught up on the laundry and ironing too. Don't remember the last time that happened.

Things have gone back into the manageable range. Of course, we were managing before too...

I'm confused, but I feel good. Clean linen will do that to you.

Life in the fast lane

2005-09-01T18:39:00.000-05:00

On Sunday I drove Fudge to Ohare, parked (no small feat I can assure you), flew to LGA, taxied to Manhattan where I promptly got in line (sorry ON line) at 34th and Madison.

After the toilet story, see previous post, we went to J2, Macy's and then I got back in a taxi, back to LGA, back to Ohare, then drove back to Milwaukee.

Shoot me now.

Today I took Larry to Yeshiva. That was four hours ago. So far he needs another pillow, more towels, his bathing suit (not sure where he left it) and the laundry bag. I am sure by Sunday the list will be longer. So that's two down.

On Sunday Moe will report for duty as a sophmore... and then there were three.

People keep asking me how I feel. My head is spinning. I keep trying to count balls in the air, which may or may not still be there. All in all though, there are less dishes in the sink and less clothes in the chute. Is that a bad thing?

I ask you.

I broke the toilet

2005-08-27T22:27:00.000-05:00

So we went to my mother's house for lunch and the toilet was running and when I tried to flush it, it broke. (Those of you without a technical knowledge of toilets can skip a bit.)

The little thing, in my toilets its a chain that goes from the end of the stick to the round thingy on the bottom of the tank and lifts it for the "flush" effect, in my mother's house is not a chain but another stem like thing. When I flushed the stem broke off of the round thing. So technically, if you open the tank, and pick up the round thing, the toilet still flushes, then you put it back. I will call that a manual flush.

So I come out of the bathroom and tell Bubbe that I broke the toilet, but you can still flush it manually. Fudge decides that she can't stay here if there is no indoor plumbing. Bubbe tells her "Its still indoors" Not that the air conditioning is on, but I digress.

Besides, Grampa says, there is another toilet in the basement you can use. That toilet is in a shed in the basement and has spiders that remember the Nixon administration. So going downstairs would be MUCH better.

So we spend the rest of lunch telling stories about fixing the toilet, which isn't so bad. It turns out the PT fixed the toilet at work one day when the chain came off of the thingy.

I have taught my Padawan well after all.

six little chickens

2005-08-25T13:10:00.000-05:00

I have been asked to comment on life with six kids. I don't know if I can sum it up, or even down. Basically, it's about juggling. You throw one ball up in the air and throw the next one up before you catch the first, and you just keep doing it. In order not to drop any, you have to keep your eye on the ball(s). You cannot play Xbox and keep your eye on the ball.

When I had two and lived in NY I had a nanny. I was new at being a mom and she was old at being a nanny, so I basically did what she said. I was not a happy or nice person then, I can tell you that now, but at the time I didn't know what the problem was. My kids were at the pediatrician and on Abx all the time, because she told me they were sick and took them to the doctor.

Since I have moved here, I have a new pediatrician, and I worked from home until 2002. I can honestly tell you I raised my own kids. Some of them haven't had abx more than 1-2x in their lives, although I can't tell you exactly which ones. My pediatrician when I moved here spoke very sternly to me at one appt. when he told me "If you are going to have a troop of kids, you are going to have to be the general. Kids like limits, they need order, and it's their job to keep testing them and it's your job to keep them." I think I cried on the way home, but I got my act together and have been Mrs. Balabusta ever since then. Another important thing he told me is that no one will dehydrate before 7 a.m.

That was the year I went back to sleeping, I believe. BTW, I think sleep is great and everyone should have some. There are a lot of things you think can't be fixed, but sleep on it and they get better. Really way cool. Also, kids need a well rested mother - and I saw this to all the people who stay up til 2 a.m. with cooking and cleaning and washing, etc. The kids don't need that as much as they need you in a decent frame of mind. I think lack of sleep is where the yelling comes in.

One more thing, before I wax poetic: In the airplane, they always tell you in case of emergency put on your own oxygen mask first, then put one on your kid. This is true outside of airplanes as well. If you take care of your own needs first, you are better able to take care of others' needs. Whether it means doing your biddness or showering the night before or eating dinner at 4 p.m. These are all good strategies to help you deal with stress of taking care of so many needs. When I had a baby in the house, I knew I had to feed the kids at 5 and the baby would be cranky from roughly 4-6 or 7 (we called that the witching hour), I would eat a tuna or cheese sandwich at 3:30, so I wouldn't be hungry during the witching/dinner hour.

Any problem that is too big to be dealt with should be chopped into smaller pieces and dealt with that way. A family therapist once came to the school to do a class and a lady with 8 kids asked "How do you feed 8 kids in a decent manner without anyone killing anyone else?" and the therapist replied, "I don't know, how do you feed 8 kids dinner witout anyone-----" You get the point, if you can't feed 8 at one time well, do it as 4 and 4, and then work your way up.

When you get to the end, you'll know it, because you can look behind you and say, wow, what a ride.

Crazy Water Park rules

2005-08-18T10:51:00.000-05:00

I am wondering if the whole world has lost all semblance of common sense.

I have six children, age 4-16, and I took them to Cool Waters at Greenfield Park yesterday for a little late summer splurge. My 4-year old doesn't swim, so I purchase at Target the Safety Seal Beginner Swimmers vest. It's a "floaty" contraption that has flotation pads on the front and back and ties around the sides. She doesn't mind it and when you go to a pool of 400 kids (minimum) call me crazy, but I feel better with her having the floaty on.

Cool Waters doesn't allow devices that "aren't Coast Guard Approved". But, says I, we aren't going boating, we came here to swim. This is a swimming pool, and this is a swimming vest. "Not allowed, read the sign". And I love this one - "It's a safety issue".

So what I am being told by "trained lifeguards" is that my 4 year old is going to be safer in this pool without a floatation device, than with one. Personally, if I were a lifeguard at a pool with between 400-800 kids in it, I would want a floatation device on every 4 year old there. And what, pray tell, has the Coast Guard got to do with anything? I don't think they even have jurisdiction over water parks, (although, given their size lately, maybe they should).
I will digress for just a moment and mention that I was at Cool Waters with my 4 year old earlier in the summer, right under the lifeguard chair for 2 hours, and no one said anything about the floaty the whole time. A fellow co-worker here mentioned that this rule is in place to stop people (parents) from putting floatation wings on kids and then not watching them in the pool. So I guess that means that since we have this rule, everyone at Cool Waters is watching their kids like a hawk, because they don't have floatation devices on. Logic is a wonderful thing.

So finally, please tell me, who is making these insane rules?

The ceiling fan and the potato

2005-08-18T10:43:00.000-05:00

I should let the PT tell this story, but I don't think he wants to relive it. So here it goes.

The lightbulb in the kitchen ceiling fan burned out, ergo, needed replacing. The darn thing was so corroded, it broke when he tried to unturn it. Not so unusual, just put in another lightbulb.

That thing was in there tight, nothing worked. So the PT sent moi to the hardware store. "They must", he reasoned, "have a device that takes out broken lightbulbs". Like a faithful Mrs. Balabusta, off I go.

At the hardware store the man tells me to use a potato. Screw it in, it grabs the old light bulb shell, and then unscrew it. "But turn off the circuit breaker first". That is my strong point you know.

I go to turn off the circuit, by the time I get upstairs the PT has gone through 3 potatos on the kitchen table, and mushy raw potato in the light fixture. I said to myself, this doesn't look good. "I think we have the wrong kind of potatos, these are too soft" he said. And I am reminded of the Cat in the Hat who has the wrong kind of ________ to get the ring off the tub.

To sum up, there are many curse words in this universe and he used most of them, and then he got out the bits of lightbulb, and the pieces of potato. The light, after not functioning since Shabbos morning, now works again. So I guess the world can continue spinning.

For tonight's job, he is going to fix my LaserJet, which Fudge has gummed up with double sided printing.

My tank is in the shop

2005-08-15T21:29:00.000-05:00

It is no secret by now, that I drive a large car. Patton's tanks going into Italy were only slightly larger. The car is a converted 2002 GMC Savana 1500 with the 5.7 liter.

This car has been in the shop quite a bit. Last May I took it back to the dealer because the side doors were sticky, difficult to open and shut. The dealer sprayed some WD-40 and said it should be fine.

It was not fine. By the time I finished driving carpool the doors barely move and it takes 2 people to push them shut. I took the car to a different dealer who took one look at it and said - "GMC always had problems with these exterior hinges, they rust like crazy"

Information I could have used BEFORE I bought the car!

Luckily, the car which has 28,000 miles on it, is still under warranty. GMC is going to "take care" of the problem, they also supplied a rental, which doesn't help much because I can only take about half of the kids with me anywhere. But it gets me to work.

I understand to replace the hinges, they need to "cut off the doors". Anyway, I intend to blog on my progress with this van and GMC, because a blog should be, if nothing else, informational.

Don't you think?

DMV revisited

2005-08-13T22:03:00.000-05:00

Let me preface this by saying that son #3 will not turn 15 1/2 until sometime in 2007 with Gd's help.

It is a strange coincidence that while the PT was turning 39 his son #2 was turning 15 and a half. This would be fine with me, but this is the age at which time he can get his learner's permit (Driving) and not a minute before. Here is a list of the planets that I had to line up to have this happen and why.

The application form. His driving school would not release his application form until he was legally able to apply. With some finesse I was able to have my son pick it up at 5:30 the night before so that we could be at the DMV in the morning.
The law, in its wisdom requires 30 hours of driving behind the wheel, although much of this is in the back seat in "observation". This must be completed no sooner than 19 days and no later than six months after it starts. The problem here is that my son is going to school on 9/4, which gives us just about 19 days. Once he is in school, it will be hard to schedule any time for "behind the wheel". In fact, he is lucky to schedule his laundry time. The next time he will be home it will be yomtov most of the time, or just before or just after. And after that it will be snowing. I had him scheduled for Behind the Wheel starting at 3 p.m., assuming we could get the permit in less than 5 hours.
The written test, only took an hour. All the boxes were checked and signed but the computers were down so they couldn't process his application. Rather than sitting there the rest of the day, we left. But I made sure to get a phone number we could call to check if the computers came back up.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, there was, you know, cooking to be done. Also I wanted to set up the right bank accounts for the next year that day, so that was a lot of chasing around.
Turns out the phone number they gave me was the automated menu system from DMV hell. Finally I pressed 0 and after a few minutes spoke to a fellow human (one can only hope). The computers were back up. It was now 1 p.m.
Back to the DMV we go, with the toddler because Fudge had her Behind the Wheel at 2. Because the only thing better than hanging at the DMV watching numbers that do not change for an hour, is hanging at the DMV with a 4 year old, who wants to go home and talk about the other people waiting there in voices they can hear.
After only an hour and 10 minutes we head home. It is 20 to 3 and I think we are going to make it. We are home before 3 and the driving instructor pulls up and tells me he has to pick up his brother at the airport, so he won't be taking anyone driving this afternoon. We should fit him in for Monday.

Now tell me again why it's against the law to hit anyone at the DMV?

Mrs. Balabusta strikes again

2005-08-08T14:00:00.000-05:00

It's Bris time!

My friend who I married off last spring (Mazel Tov) gave birth to a healthy baby boy last week (Mazel Tov) and today was the bris (Mazel Tov).

Naturally, this required a trip to Sam's club and numerous assorted bagels and lox, also little brownies, etc. etc. But that is not what this blog is about.

It's about beginnings. This little Feivel is 8 days old, and I will be able to tease him and tell him I knew him when. I don't know why this gets to me, I have my own kids, and I knew them when too. Maybe I just love to sit back and watch. This is a whole new world for them and I welcome them into it.

Word to the wise, start the college fund now.

DMV - Dept of Morons at Work

2005-07-11T18:34:00.000-05:00

I took eldest daughter to the DMV to get her Permit. In the following paragraph we will address what she now has permission to do, but you have to wait to get to the good stuff. First, we have to spend 2 hours at the DMV. I want to know what test you have to take to work here. I think it goes something like this.

How long can you scratch your butt, really?
Can you move from one desk to another at <3>
Do you have acrylic nails and do you wear nail jewlery, are said nails a minimum of 3" in length?
Can you read English?
Do you know what state this is, you may chose from the list of 50.
Can you scratch your butt again?
Extra Credit - Can you find your butt? You can use both hands.

At the DMV in Wisconsin you need to stop at the information desk before you proceed to wait for a counter. You need to show all your stuff to the Service Representitive at the Information Desk so that they can give you a number. Then you may commence waiting. Also, the numbers are prefaced with an A, B, C (those being the first 3 letters of the English alphabet) and the next person called can be called from either cue to proceed to a random window. Do not try to figure it out, Boolean logic never heard of the DMV, which is fair, because no one there has heard of Boolean logic.

But I digress...

Daughter's biggest mistake was trying to slide by a form with an empty box. Empty box=bad. That was in the manual. So she did not get a number. Mom's biggest mistake was not checking Daughter's form before letting her exit the car. Anyway, we had a 70 minute wait for a computer to take the test on (there were 5 available computers, but they weren't Set up until finally when I said we were leaving, the Service Representative said "Oh, you ready now baby?" and pressed a button on the screen that said "Press here to start test" and then the machine was set up.

It took 7 minutes for her to take the test, then we, GOT A NUMBER to get in line. That took 10 minutes, then we got in line for her card, which has no picture on it. Then we got her card and left. Total time 2 hours.

The rule for the DMV is you may not leave until you are so frustrated, aggravated and annoyed and generally pissed off so that you want to hit someone, then you can go.

Now back to the Permit. Daughter can now get behind the wheel of a car and practice driving. Though not my car and I will not be driving with her anytime soon. I am permitted to send her with a driving teacher, who gets paid more than I make an hour, and probably deserves every penny. Also Bubbe has promised to take her driving, although she was 14 when Bubbe made the promise, we intend to hold her to it.

You all have been warned and are now permitted to get off the sidewalk.

Then when I get the mail today, it said my tank needs to pass emmission inspection. Like lemon on a paper cut.

Foot-note: The PT was with us the whole time and made very little fuss, considering a had a pound of bugles with us. Also, PT's dad is due to go to the DMV to get his DL renewed. Although he doesn't want to. I can't imagine why.

Another SPAM story

2005-07-06T18:07:00.000-05:00

This happened yesterday:

You may already know I teach a Jewish Aerobic Dance course for frum women in the community at an aerobic studio called Body Tuning. Said forum is located behind a building adjacent to a Radio Shack, with parking behind the Radio Shack for aerobics clients.

As I approached the corner for my left turn I noticed two things:

There were no less than 8 police squads in front of RadioShack. This, I am sure, constitutes the bulk of the Wauwatosa Police Force, and
There was a giant can of Spam turning right in front of me, into the Radio Shack parking lot.

The Spam-mobile continued to the parking lot to the rear of RadioShack and proceeded to park in "all" the spaces that are there. Please see http://www.spammobile.com/ for a picture of this thing, trusts me, it takes the whole lot.

As I was expected women to start pulling up, I decided to politely ask the driver to "move his spam". Out of the "vehicle" descended a man with a long white beard, jeans with a requisite 5" belt buckle. Who told me, "Not to worry, just running into RadioShack for a quick fix". I submitted that I didn't know if RadioShack was receiving custom just now, and at that, his trip would be quicker than I needed.

But alas, a crowd had gathered with cell/camera phones and was proceeding to take pictures. So I went into Body Tuning where the previous class was just breaking up. Leaving the door ajar, I said, "Hey girls, want to see something really different?"

One girl said - "Hey, that's a really big can of Spam."

Back to the story, as the girls were leaving, a detective and two police officers come around and ask if we saw anyone running around back here, although this building has no functioning windows (there are some really high up, but that's it). "No, we didn't see anything" Should we be worried?

The detective looks around, "No, just let us know if you see anything suspicious."

"Weelll, " I replied, "Now that you mention it, there is a really big can of Spam in our parking lot."

Not a humorous post

2005-07-04T17:30:00.000-05:00

This post is a downer of the worst kind. It will not make you laugh. So there, you've been warned.

We here in Milwaukee are recovering now from horror so unspeakable that I can barely type it. I guess it hits my family harder because we just returned, safe and sound Thank Gd, from the road trip.

For the factual Milwaukee Journal article follow this link. http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/jul05/338123.asp
For the rest of the story, continue here.

My friend, Debbie Rennert, was killed early Friday morning in an accident on the highway. The van, her husband was driving, loaded with kids, driving up to camp in the mountains in NY and a family wedding, rear ended a semi on the Skokie hwy, route 41, Highland Park, and she was killed instantly. Her children and husband survived without much harm. Debbie left 10 children here on this earth. The youngest is a boy 4 months old. The oldest is a boy in his 20s, the rest are girls.

The funeral was in Milwaukee last Sat. night, which started around 11:30 at WITS. My husband and I, and our oldest son who goes to school there and Fudge, who is friends with the girls. 7 of the 8 girls were there, the toddler and infant were left with the babysitter. On a horrible scale of 1-10 this was about a 15.

7/12/05 Update
The Rennert Family is due back in Milwaukee today. I am told that they are all doing better and we as a community are preparing for their return. I have been asked to post the following links for people who are able to help of contribute.
The website, http://www.kerendevorah.org/ has hespedim, the Milwaukee Levaya audio, etc. concerning the passing of Mrs. Debbie Rennert.
Keren Devorah Fund
c/o WITS
3288 N. Lake Drive
Milwaukee, WI 53211

8/3/05
This blog has been editted. Shoshim has past, and it is time to heal. Everyone is finding a new normal, although it still has the feeling of a bad dream. I still turn around and expect to see Debbie smiling behind me, or hear a laugh and think it's her. Still trying to wake up from a bad dream. The kids are okay, talking, growing...... living. We just keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep on going. It's time to go on.

Here's another new trick I can do

2005-06-29T20:19:00.000-05:00

I want to be somebody new....

You may have already read about blowing the fuse in the car on the way to Toronto, upsetting the alarm, and the PT. I believe I was mission Control in that episode.

Well today one of my Carpool-ees asked what the power locks button did on the car and I said she could touch it (famous last words) and the next thing I knew the fuse blew again. It was like De Ja Vu, again. I think there must be a short in the button on that door.

But what to do, what to do? Do I go back to the alarm place, even though I had left there mere hours before and the fuse was whole then - I thought they might get too tired of me before I actually have them fix the stereo, so that was a no. *See below*

I know - Why don't I try to fix it myself. I saw the "man" do it last week and it didn't take him more than a minute. So I drove to the Advance Auto Shop, removed the cover from the fuse box and tried to fathom the secrets of the fuse box schematics. I decided to pull out the one next to the Pwr Wdws (which was labelled Pwr Accs) and it looked like toast. I took it in and got a box of five for $2.58 (US). Popped that baby back in and it all was good.

I have to tell you when I called the car alarm/stereo shop and told them I needed my car back (the part should be in by Friday) - he said I could come and get it (oh thank you) - but when I got there the CD player was in pieces on the car seat, the DVD player (at least that's what it looked like) was next to it, but still attached, and the back junction box was ripped out of the wall, for no reason I can think of. The mechanic (that's being kind)'s tools, like screwdriver and cordless drill screwdriver were all over the back, so I am thinking he doesn't want me to drive away just yet.

Sure enough, comes out and says "I didn't know you were coming back for the car" (yeah, why don't you just hold onto it for another two days) and he starts putting things back together. I managed to put the back junction box back in the wall, but there were screws on the floor that needed to be put back in. So when he finished I politely asked him to pass me the cordless drill and proceeded to fix the junction box to the floor. Little did I know this would earn the mechanic's respect and admiration - "Oh man, we got to hook you up for a job, you do that betta dan Ricky hea". I do a lot of things better than Ricky, like for example and I chew gum and think at the same time. But I digress.......

I'm thinking about going in for a new line of work. I hear you get two weeks off for Deer Hunting season.

My next post is going to be on the wonderful life of Carpool. So get your Erma Bombeck handy------

Out of the Frying Pan....

2005-06-28T14:28:00.000-05:00

Since by now you have all read the blow by blow on the PT blog, I will leave you with a few morsels of vital information gleaned on the road trip.

Canada - omit.

There is nothing you need in Canada (specifically Toronto) that you can't find in an English speaking country. I have previously waxed prosiacally on the price of gas and Miles Per Gallon. The only thing that could complicate this further was if we paid in Dollars per Litre (sic) and then made the dollars equal to .8 of a real dollar. Not to mention, they have the annoying habit of changing the price of gas hourly. My sister says the price goes down after 10 p.m, but who wants to pump gas after 10.

Good Point, This only proves that Toronto is a backward country that has failed to evolve. I still don't know what the hell a kilometer is and why anybody needs them, how fast is 100 km/hour (don't any of you tell me, cause I no longer care) My kids don't know how to pronounce sortie (which is the exit, which we missed, twice).

I just want to say one more thing about Canada before I leave the subject and that is The Queen. She is the Queen of England, or the British Empire, none of which involve Canada. It is not a province, not even a territory. In fact, the Queen doesn't give a damn about Canada, so maybe you should all move on and put pictures of birds and pyramids on your money like everyone else.

2. Abba's restaurant in Cleveland -

And a big thank you to that crowd, because the PT has finally decided maybe it would be good to try someplace new. Besides the wait, and not giving us water when we come in from Pennsylvania and it is 98 degrees outside - Treat me like you don't want my business. Hey, this was not a freebie, I was paying for that hunk of cow,(please see the picture if you don't believe me) and for my husband and my six children, which is no light check. If you don't want my business, just say so -

wait a minute, you did.

And one of you comments was on the right track, because I can carry out of NY, double wrap, and warm stuff up when we get to the hotel. Works for me. We got cold cuts from Buffalo to eat in Syracuse where we stayed the second night and ate at the hotel and it worked great, and I didn't have to leave a tip for someone who couldn't get the water glasses to the table.

3. Driving.

Guilty - I hate mountains. Luckily, living in Wisconsin, the problem doesn't come up very often. but now and then you turn a corner on route 17 and there is a big sucker in front of you, and then the floor goes down a 45 degree angle and there is a sign that says "Fallen Rock" - Thank you, that was so helpful. The only thing worse then driving through the mountains is letting Mark drive through the Mountains and now I will tell you why.

Because he likes to look at the mountains.

Also Ferraris and other roadside curiousities, but not the road. also, he thinks he is driving a Geo Prism and not a Battle Tank. There is a slight difference in the center of gravity and quite a difference in the braking distance - to quote an old friend -

A boat of this size doesn't exactly stop on a dime.

So, I got to watch a movie. Also, I got Ohio. which is fine with me, they don't have any mountains either.

4. And finally, New York Traffic.

All you have to do when you wax nostalgic for the days when you were "in the game" is sit in traffic for an hour and then you're cured. Many times on the expressway (dysingenous name that it is) I just wanted to stop the car, get out and say "What the hell is going on now?" Maybe that is what causes all the accidents. I don't know. Everyone there feels that if they personally do not cross on the next green light they will stop breathing. I think they need a little vacation or a jagged little pill, because basically, it will turn green again, in like 40 seconds or so. I know it will. Really.

The Electric Company

2005-06-16T10:30:00.000-05:00

This happened a year ago so the story can now be told without lawsuits resulting.

It was before Shavuous and we had been having a problem with the lights flickering off and on, particularly when the fridge kicked in or the AC or something. We thought we had too much on one circuit, so I had an electrictian come in and split off some circuits, I think he split off the garage and garage light, for hundreds of dollars. But still the lights flickered. Over Shavuous when we had company it was very annoying. My neighbor thought we might have a problem with the power coming into the house, so after Shavous I called the Electic Company to report the problem, it was roughly 930 p.m or so, so I figured I would get on the schedule for the next day which would be a Friday. Little did I know what kind of Friday it would turn out to be.

I was sitting in the living room (aka frontroom) watching a bad Danielle Steele movie (you thought the books were bad, try the movies), when something drove by on the street with flashing lights that was roughly the size of something Patton drove into France with. I would have thought it was a snow plow, but being that it was just after Shavuous, that would have been a stretch. About five minutes later, shortly after 1030, the back doorbell rings, then the knocking.

Well that's never a good thing.

It was the Man from the Electric Company. I had to draw on charicatures, but this was out of central casting. He had a big belly hanging over his pants, the yellow/orange safty vest, complete with hardhat, ID tag on his safety vest and cokebottle glasses. He also spoke with a lisp and had the tendency to look past you when he spoke. His partner was out back and he had parked the tank in the alley. The PT was in the basement, oblivious to this all.

"Did you caw the Electwic Company - we came as soon as we cud." If my power were out for 3 days, they would come five days later, but here at 11 p.m. they responded without delay. "I haf ta take a wook at your cicwit bweaker box".

Well, says I, come on in - Ah Honey, the Power Company is here--- He barely turned from the x-box. I took him to the dungeon to show him the box. There was a lot of Ah huh, ohs, hummm, and stuff, and then he finds the problem.

"Ya thee Maam, heas the pwoblem wight hea. This hea is a bad bweaker. Thee the scorch mawks on the powa baw. We gotta take this out. Which bweaker do you wan me ta use?" The dishwasher says I. Does this mean I need an electrician to come out and put in a new bweaker tomorrow?

"Naw, you can do this yaself - jus take this hea bad bweaker to the hadwea stowa and tell dem you wan a new one. Then take this wiya hea and twist that scwu, den you pop it bak in like so, and do the same wit the dishwasher ciwcuit and youa good to go. Jus don touch the powa baw in da back dare cuz dat has 120 vowts in it and yud be toast. You have a nice nite."

Well, by now the PT is in bed, but the powa is on, so that's good. The next I called an electrician, to find out if he had the defective part and he told me to go to the hadwea stowa, you don't need us, you can do this yuaself. (It was a funny thing to say, considering we never met). But I figure, what's the worst that could happen? It is after all Friday. So my mother picks up the defective piece and brings it over. We go down the basement and take the cover off the breaker box.

"Now," I tell her, "Hold the flashlight here, and if something happens, don't touch me until I fall to the floor, Got that?" My mom looks at me and says "You think so, huh?"

Well, I took the wiya and put it behind the scwu and twisted it in and den popped it into place and then I did the same for the dishwasher and it worked, and the powa was on and it wasn't flickering or nothin.

Then, later that day, the PT came home and said "How was your day deah?"

The New Zoo Revue

2005-05-30T19:07:00.000-05:00

I really liked that show, but that is not what I am here to discuss today.

We went to the zoo on a lovely Memorial Day - The kind of day that makes you want to say "Good Job Gd".

Also, it was Yonina's birthday today, which makes her 4. Given the alternatives of things I have done on this date, I would rather be walking the zoo. So overall I was in a pretty good mood. We decided after walking the zoo, ice cream would be in order. So far, this is not rocket science.

The question was whether to go for Baskin Robbins after the zoo, or just get Good Humor at the zoo. Although the Good Humor was grossly overpriced at about $1.50 for a Chipwich, I would still be spending more if we went to Baskin Robbins.

But, as Perel said, it would be worth it. And I quote here,

"They would love you, I would love you, and I would know the difference."

So, we went to Baskin Robbins. First we went home to get the missing child who had escaped from Yeshiva again. Then we went back to the Baskin Robbins. But one girl, not the birthday girl, and not the teenager asked for Choc chip, when she meant to say Choc Choc Chip and was not happy with vanilla and had a melt down. The teenage daughter sat a table very far away from all of us, because we couldn't be related to her.

After that we came home and the daughter who ate no ice cream ranted and raved in her room for I don't know how long because (I am getting to the punch line) I fell asleep. I had a little nap. And when I woke up supper was ready.

And I was still on this planet. I know, because I checked.

Overall, it was a very good day, so like I said before - "Nice Job, Gd."

Other useful drug rep items

2005-05-29T13:55:00.000-05:00

Brains.

I was at a conference for school health professionals and there was a rep there from Effexor handing out brains. I wish I had a visual here, but just picture a small green brain with Effexor written on the side. It's not hard.
Little green squeezy brains, just to fit in your palm, I guess when you get anxious, you can just squeeze the brain - but I digress.

So, I took multiple helpings of brains for my kids and a few collegues, who were short some. See, that was the greatest thing about this freebie, the gags. There are just tons of gags you can do while handing out brains.

I didn't, in fact, have enough brains to go around, so Rafi, being the last one to meet me at the door didn't get one. It went something like this.

"Hey, I don't have a brain"
"Tell me something new"
"Everybody else has one."
"Rafi, have you lost your mind?"
"I didn't lose it, I never had one in the first place!"
"well, Raf, when they were handing out brains you were last in line...."

You get the idea..

Then there are the one liners you can do while holding out a brain in one hand -
"Care to change your mind?"
"On second thought-"
and last but not least - "What's on your mind?"

2005-05-17T13:01:00.000-05:00

Tuesday and Me.

The goatface club

2005-05-17T12:40:00.000-05:00

I have been tagged by my sister - more than once I might add, but at least once this week.

If I could be a scientist...If I could be a farmer...If I could be
amusician...If I could be a doctor...If I could be a painter...If I could be a
gardener...If I could be a missionary...If I could be a chef...If I could be an
architect...If I could be a linguist...If I could be a psychologist...If I could
be a librarian...If I could be an athlete...If I could be a lawyer...If I could
be an inn-keeper...If I could be a professor...If I could be a writer...If I
could be a llama-rider...If I could be a bonnie pirate...If I could be an
astronaut...If I could be a world famous blogger...If I could be a justice on
any one court in the world...If I could be married to any current famous
political figure... If I could be a rabbi...

If I could be an athlete I would bowl - but watchout, because if I told them once I told them a thousand times I don't roll on Shabbos.
Wait a minute, I do bowl, doesn't that still count then?

If I could be an architect I would design a functional house with closets aplenty and a kitchen that can hold multiple bodies, probably have a chute from the kitchen right into the laundry chute and another chute out to the trash can - am I being to practical here. I would also like one of those conveyor belts that starts in the back of my car and ends in the pantry, because I am sick of bringing in the groceries. My sister used to have a dumbwaiter. That would be nice too, but I digress...

If I could be a bonnie pirate I would get to wear a puffy shirt, so that would all be good. I could rob merchant vessels, mark up their goods and hold them hostage until I was paid off, or they would have to walk the plank. And I would not pack any Tuna sandwiches, so there.

I have to tag people which is hard, considering no one goes to my blog. So I am going to tag Jessica, Perel, and Jennifer. When I tag you, you have to write about three things, you can do it as a comment if you want to.

Patton had it easy

2005-05-16T20:11:00.000-05:00

For those of you who are joining this blog already in progress, please see
psychotoddler.blogspot.com for a discussion of how the other half of this family hates to pack and travel on a full stomach.

Having said that, taking a family of 8 for a 3 day drive in a van that really holds 7, multiply that out and you get quite a few meals that will be eaten on the road. The only way this could get more complicated was if we had to calculate the food per miles and the miles per gallon, see previous post.

But I digress -

I believe that meals on the road should consist of more than M&M's and Twix bars, call me crazy. I do not preplan the meals per se, but I make tunafish and eggsalad about 4 lbs. and put that in a disposable container. Then we have some chips and bars/cookies. Then I cut up some melon or pinapple and put that in a container and round it out with a few cups of yogurt for those who don't want a sandwich. This way, with the fruit cut up, we can keep up on our fiber. Fiber on a road trip is very important. Trust me on this one.

So I think on this next trip some of us will eat the food Mrs. Balabusta packs and some of us can live on gas station rations. Just like some of us have reservations at Marriot with a king size bed and some of us can check into the Red Roof Inn. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Call it an alternative lifestyle. There's a few more things I could call it too.

Anyway, maybe I'm wrong on this. Maybe we should look into C rations.

And here's another thought. Maybe, when we get to Cleveland, we could go to a "different" restaurant and order "something else" - now that would be living life in the fast lane, throwing hazard to the wind, taking a chance......

Married 17 years and 11 months, not counting dating before that, do we always have to go the same place for pizza? There's got to be like 100 kosher pizzaria's in New York and Queens, most of them new in the last ten years, how do you know you don't like them?

And what is the worst that could happen?

The boys of summer

2005-05-06T12:40:00.000-05:00

Well, it's that time again.

Take inventory of who wants to do what this summer and where, throw it all in a hat and then - and then - and then -

Forget it. It never comes out even. In the immortal words of my nursing clinical professor - Not everyone will get what they want and there will be no bloodshed.

You have to go for "mostly harmless". That's about as good as it gets. I have 3 boys that want to go to camp in July, 2 kids who want/need to take Driver's Ed, but one of them also wants to be at camp, so no Driver's ed during the day. Driver's Ed is 3 weeks long so you could do it during the day in June, but my husband wants to go see his folks in June, but one yeshiva lets out a week after everyone else, and he is on call the beginning of July. And then there are the two girls who don't even know what they want to do yet.

Is your head spinning? Don't go back to reread it to make some sense of it, it's not worth it. I could go on to the August conundrum, but there is a principal taught early on that prevents me from doing further harm.

Overall, what it amounts to is spending days and yes, even some nights, in your car, driving from camp to camp, location to location. If you are lucky, and I stress IF, you may get a potty break from time to time, but I wouldn't bet on it.

I have a friend whose license plate reads IMATAXI - she got her plates the end of July that year and was feeling particularly punchy.

I couldn't agree more. There is a math formula you can do which is your car's (miles per gallon)/(miles per hour) x the price of gas by the gallon which will tell you basically how much it is costing you to sit at red lights. Erma Bombeck, I believe, figured it out once and decided to write a book. The rest, as they say, is history. anyway, the basic upshot of this is that you could book the presidential suite at the hilton and as long as you didn't drive there, you'd be saving money sitting in the hot tub. This is a scientifically proven fact, however, for those nonbelievers out there, I am willing to do further research.

It's getting hot in here

2005-05-03T18:32:00.000-05:00

I went to see a friend of mine who works at Children's Hospital last week. We had a nice little visit in her reception area. So this week I get an e-mail from her. I have changed no names and altered no details to protect nobody's innocence.

I have to tell you something kind of funny. The day after you came here to interview, one of the Wheelchair Seating and Equipment men came up to me and said, "Can I ask you a question?" I said sure, of course, and he said "you know that young woman you were talking to out at the front desk yesterday afternoon?" I said "yes she's a nurse and a friend
of mine who came here to apply for a position." He said,"She
sure is easy on the eyes", I then said, "She's married to a physician and has six children." He said, "shoot, isn't it funny how that works". Later when I saw him in the skywalk he said "no thanks for the information you had for me" I just laughed. You still got it girl!!!

This wasn't quite a e-mail I was thinking I was going to see anytime soon. There are mornings when there are more parts dysfunctioning than functioning, and that's being kind. All I can say is it's takes all kinds. Yeah, I guess you either got it or you don't. I guess in the future I will have to stay out of bars and Children's Hospitals. maybe that's why I work at an all women's college?

Broken China

2005-04-25T21:28:00.000-05:00

Last Wed night when I was taking out the Passover China I broke 4 of my great grandmother’s dessert dishes. I told my husband that I know when I get to heaven she is going to be standing there with her finger outstretched asking about her dessert dishes. He said I was making quite a few assumptions, regarding where my great grandmother is now, and where I’m going after all.

So basically, he wasn’t quite concerned about the dishes. But he never met my great grandmother either.

All said and being done, the china I think is holding up quite well.
It is a service for 12:
with dinner plate,
salad plate, (smaller dinner plate)
soup plate, (you might think I mean bowl, but you'd be wrong)
fish plate (maybe it has another name, but I don't know what it is),
dessert plate, (really dish, as in applesauce)
saucer and cup for each place setting (well, it did anyway).
and there are service pieces which include:
a turkey platter (it could be used for something else, I suppose)
Kugel platter (ditto),
vegetable bowl,
and other vegetable bowl
and gravy boat and sugar and creamer set.

Of course, we only use about half of those pieces, and then only about twice a year, so I don't think it's too much to ask.

See, the problem is, every time I think about using paper plates, I can hear the china screaming from the cupboard. It's not as loud as my husband groaning, but still very annoying, kind of like - "Well, if you were going to use paper, you really didn't have to take us out in the first place."

And they are right. When you can hear your dishes talking, and they are making sense - you should be very afraid.

And listen to them.

Giddyap

2005-04-20T11:37:00.000-05:00

I am reminded of the time I took my kids Horseback Riding. It was supposed to be fun. I can't remember when I had more fun. In fact, the flies had more fun than we did, and the horses didn't seem to be enjoying it either.

We had a choice of an hour trail ride with a guide, a 15 minute trail ride with a guide, or 15 minutes with our horses led by hand. I picked the latter, figuring how long could 15 minutes be?

I sat on a horse with my 3 yo in front of me. My oldest son, being the bravest, was put on a horse named Chantilly. Two other boys refused to leave the barn or approach the coral with the exclamation "EW-GROSSS". My daughter who was 8 at the time, was given a horse named Tank. I think my horse was names Dear Gd, or at least, that's what I kept calling him. Please note the double standard. It is a mark of distinction for a girl to be able to ride a horse named Tank, but for a 15 yo boy to ride Chantilly is the punch line of many a joke, and this blog, by the way.

What's really funny about this, is that the horses didn't pick their names, and barely even answered to them. And on the whole, don't go around talking about who they had ride them either.

Personally, I think they just don't care.

More butter news

2005-04-19T13:49:00.000-05:00

I called a pick n save looking for Passover Butter.
He told me that they had Move over butter,
but no pass over butter.

Then, I gave up.

$7/lb for butter

2005-04-19T13:14:00.000-05:00

PrePesach psychosis has hit a new high.

Here in Milwaukee, Kosher for Pasech, cholov Yisroel butter is running $7-8/lb of butter (sticks)! I do not keep Cholov Yisroel, but there is no Breakstones to be found.

This is insanity. I have been buttering matzo since before I could talk, and I am insulted that someone would hold butter ransom like this. Prices in general are out of control, but tell me, did someone give the cows a raise?