Living-In-Brooklyn Milestones

I Killed a Cockroach Before Breakfast and Other Living-In-Brooklyn Milestones

Table of Contempts

Chapter 1: Parking Tickets are Part of my Monthly Budget.
Chapter 2: I Refuse to Watch Ratatouille.
Chapter 3: I Don't Really Know the Difference Between the Upper and Lower Ends of Manhattan. But I Can Tell You Which Trains to Take.
Chapter 4: I Pay More for Rent Than I Do For...Anything.
Chapter 5: Cement + Swingset = Park.
Chapter 6: Pigeons are Only Afraid of People in Other Cities.
Chapter 7: Um...Sure, New Yorkers Have a Real Inclination for Ice Cream at 3:00am.
Chapter 8: Brooklyn Mice can Outsmart Mouse Traps.
Chapter 9: What Sun?
Chapter 10: I Killed a Cockroach Before Breakfast.

But I told my kids that the Raid just put him to sleep. Cockroaches don't belong in our house, I told them, so I'm putting him to sleep and putting him in the garbage. And then the garbage truck will take him to where he is supposed to live.

I didn't want to pass on my cockroach fears. So we all said hi to the dead sleeping cockroach.

And now my toddler looks for cockroaches every morning. Her face lights up as she imagines saying hello to her friend with the ugly, huge, ugly, huge, and also ugly, antennas. I tried explaining that the cockroach only came around because the kitchen floor had been partially taken out to be fixed.

She's still looking for the cockroach.

Should I be proud that I am raising open-minded children with an appreciation for nature?

Or recognize that I have created a monster.

Pass the Raid wine.

Conscious UnPesaching

On Friday afternoon my daughter walked into the house with a chocolate wafer that she received at a party in school.

"I have to eat this over the garbage," she said.

I looked at her. And laughed.

"Not in this house, you don't. This place isn't a drop ready for Pesach, kiddo. You can eat that where you stand!"

It appears that I was so busy worrying over the past  few weeks (as well as working and studying for finals), that I never actually got around to cleaning the house. Which is nice. A very wise woman told me that Pesach is only one week long (give or take), so we don't need to stretch it any longer. That sounds healthy.

And so, it is with this in mind that I inform you of my decision to Consciously Unpesach.

Conscious Unpesaching

It is with a heart full of relief and a tiny drop of apprehension that I have decided to push off Pesach preparations. I have been working hard for well over a few weeks to see what might have been possible with regard to cleaning and cooking and the conclusion is that too much organization isn't healthy. And so while one part of my home is ready, the rest remains carefree and crumbful. I am first and foremost mother to two adorable, rambunctious, walking-chometz little girls who do not have school for the next few weeks. It is my greatest wish to keep them happy and my greatest hope that the rain will go away, the sun will come out, and the park will save us.


Ps. Of course I'm going to change my mind later today.
Pps. But I'm serious about the rain thing.

#6DaysUntilPassover