The Garbage Game?

Do the people in your house play this game too? You have no clue what I am talking about? Well, apparently the rules are as follows. The aim of the game is to never be the one that has to empty the garbage can. Rules : You throw everything into the garbage when you need to. When the garbage looks as if it is filling up, you squoosh it down a bit so you can cram more stuff in there, you gingerly replace the lid and walk away, whistling. Someone else then comes along and carefully, oh so carefully, places their garbage in, and realizes that the lid doesn’t close, but, looking around, realizes that no one is there to see and slowly saunters off. Repeat, until your mother enters the kitchen while everyone is at school, notices that the garbage bag needs to be changed, opens up the lid fully, and stuff falls out all over the floor causing interesting verbiage to issue from your mom’s usually pristine lips.

One of these days they will climb into bed and find garbage tucked in there with them. That’ll show them. Oh but wait….who does the freaking laundry round here too??

Calgon….take me far far far away!!

Don’t go to bed angry

I have heard this many times in my life. The time that it really penetrated my brain was when my dear aunt was tragically killed, and I called my uncle to fulfill the mitzvah of nichum aveilim – comforting the mourner. My uncle told me that we should always strive to solve any disagreement before we go to sleep. One never knows what the next day is going to bring.

However I keep hearing from friends that they make their spouse sleep on the sofa because of what s/he did or didn’t do. Excuses like “He had been so annoying all day I just didn’t want to be around him so I made him sleep in the spare room” etc. “I was so mad at her I didn’t even want to be in the same world as her”. I don’t get that at all. This is one’s life partner!! If you are angry – talk it out once you have calmed down. I would not be able to sleep at all if I had something I needed to resolve with the KoD.

I also use this with the kids. So many times they will stomp off to their rooms upset and angry. They have been known to shout an “I hate you” over their shoulder on the way. I won’t let them fall asleep without going in there and giving them a hug and a kiss and reminding them that I love them. We may not talk about the issue at hand until the next day, but I would hate for them to go to sleep so angry.

I hate being angry. It’s like this heat that consumes me inside and makes me into a person I do not like. To allow that anger to fester all night long – well nothing good can come out of that. Recently I was upset with the KoD for something that now I can say was minor (didn’t feel it at the time though) and I did the unthinkable. I slammed down the phone on him. First time ever I had done that to him. I was horrified at myself. I called him back almost straightaway to apologize and we sorted out the reason for me being angry, we talked it through in a civil manner, we both apologized and moved on, with no lingering anger. Some of the people I know would have given each other the silent treatment for hours if not days. I don’t understand how that works. The anger and resentment just piles up – and that isn’t good for anyone. I know no one has a perfect marriage – but why not do one’s best to make each day with our beshert more meaningful?

(In case anyone thinks me naïve, let me just remind you that I have been through divorce and I certainly do not see marriage through rose tinted glasses. It takes hard work and commitment from both partners, 24/7. But it is so worth it in the long run.)

HSM’s Oatmeal Raisin cookies

Ingredients

1/3 cup of shortening

1 cup of brown sugar

1 large egg

1 ¼ cup of flour

1 tsp baking powder

¼ tsp salt

¼ cup of either milk / Orange Juice / Apple Juice

1 cup of oatmeal

½ cup raisins (we like to add a little more than that, coz we love raisins)

Optional ½ cup walnuts (I hate walnuts so I leave them out)

Directions

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Cream the shortening with the brown sugar. Beat in the egg until the mixture is smooth. Add in the flour, the baking powder and the salt. Pour in the milk or juice. Mix well. Add the rest of the ingredients.

Drop spoonfuls of the gooey batter onto greased cookie sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake for ten to 12 minutes. Let sit on baking pan for a few minutes to cool, then remove to cooling rack.

Makes 2 dozen medium sized cookies. This recipe can be doubled or tripled without a problem.

On being a twin

I don’t know what it is but it seems that as soon as one says they have a twin, the curiosity factor kicks in. “You have a twin? Tell us more!”

I grew up with two brothers, one older, one technically younger. My twin brother is a mere 3 minutes younger me. These were a very important 3 minutes when we were growing up it gave me the upper hand. Or so I thought. But that’s my twin for you, always a gentleman. He maintains still to this day that he allowed me to be born first (like he had a choice?), and claims that he is really older (last in first out).

As babies  / toddlers we had our own language, that apparently we used to babble away in all the time. My mum maintains that we seemed to understand each other very well and there was give and take in the conversation as with any other language. I wonder whether if I heard it now I would understand it.

We went to school together, and did everything together after school. He was my best buddy growing up. We had other friends, but better than that we had each other. We didn’t need anyone else.

Then came high school and we were separated for the first time in our lives as we attended single sex high schools. I missed him. I relished being able to be me, not half of the “twins”, yet I missed sharing so many experiences with him.

Now I am half a world away from him and I miss him every day.

As kids we hated being referred to as “the twins”. We had our own separate identities. We thought for ourselves. We had different opinions. Heck he was a boy and I a girl. If I had a dollar for every time we were asked if our twin was identical. Identical means exactly the same. Boys and girls are not exactly the same, they never can be. But we don’t look like each other. We have had distinctive facial differences since the day we were born. We each take after a different side of the family. I am loud and outspoken. He isn’t. But we both have a fierce love for our children, spouses and each other.

I know that whenever I need him I can pick up the phone and ask him to get on a plane to come to me and he will make it happen (I would do the same for him). I did that once. There was a point in time that I desperately needed the unconditional love of my wombie. And he came.

We don’t read each other’s minds or finish each other’s sentences, but there is a bond there that defies explanation. It transcends the physical and spiritual. A hug from my twin can put right almost any wrong that is happening in my life. I don’t need to explain myself to him, or justify anything. He is just there for me, as I am for him. We accept each other just the way we are.

There is something deeply magical and mystical about being created at the same time as someone else. Growing together from a cluster of cells into human beings. Our bond was created 9 months before our birth – there is no way that anyone could ever hope to recreate that in the physical world.

I am blessed to have received all kinds of unconditional love – grandparents, parents– but, somehow, my twin’s unconditional love for me seems the most powerful and strongest bond I have ever had. Although, since the KoD entered the picture, there is competition for that level of unconditional love!

I am so blessed.