Fun With Play-Dough

There are three days left ‘til Passover, and I haven’t accomplished anything today. For weeks, I have been anxiously watching the calendar, making lists in my head of what I need to do.  Now it is almost here, and I haven’t made much progress. I have to be honest; I’m not fond of all this preparation. Cleaning my house from top to bottom, getting every single breadcrumb out of every corner? Cleaning behind the couch? I feel like playing dark, Gothic music in the background. I despise cleaning!

Still, what has to be done, has to be done.

I take a deep breath and make up the balance. So far, I have located and set aside all the Chametz in my kitchen. With the crackers, pasta, granola bars and the like sitting on my kitchen counter, I have a visual reminder of what I want to get rid off. My kids don’t complain even though they’ve eaten macaroni and cheese three nights out of the past five. They know what’s coming; my six-year-old can identify every item in our house that contains Chametz. She even includes the chocolate syrup in her list. Good girl.

I have located the tape with which I will close the cabinets that we shouldn’t have access to, and reminded my husband he needs to finish eating his tortilla wraps.  The form to sell the remaining Chametz, as well as my dishes has been filled out and turned in, and I’ve meticulously scrubbed my Kitchenaid stand mixer before putting it away.

Tomorrow, I plan to tackle the fridge. I will take everything out, scrub until my hands are red, and cover the shelves with aluminum foil.

I don’t really mind cleaning out my kitchen; it means I can temporarily stop thinking about the fact that I still have to do my living room. For some really strange reason, I allow my children to eat dinner in there. In addition, my son eats his breakfast cereal in front of Sesame Street every morning. This means that, in spite of much vacuuming, there are crumbs everywhere; I’ll have to sort through all the toys, and move all the furniture.  Sorting through the toys is my Achilles heel. Toy boxes are strange things. Over the years they get filled with what I have come to think of as “plastic trash”. Little pieces of toys that have broken, Barbie limbs, little balls from who-knows-where, broken crayons, stuff that is unidentifiable, yet will nonetheless be missed by my children if I throw it away. It is simpler to just dump it back into the box, until you really have to clean it out. That moment, I’m sad to say, is now.

Tomorrow morning, my son and daughter are both in school, and thus it’s the perfect time to tackle this particular task.

But I don’t want to.

Which is probably why I’m planning to clean out my fridge. 

My son Mendel is almost three-and-a half, and has recently entered the independent stage. I was wondering how long it would take. Many things that I have so far helped him with, he now must do himself. He wants to climb in and out of the car seat, pour juice, put on his clothes, and work the DVD player. If I actually do something before he gets the chance, he gets upset with me and says very mean things. Apparently, independence and snippiness go hand in hand.

This morning he woke up, took off his jammies and diaper, and showed up downstairs. “Would you like a leaf?” I wanted to ask, but considering his age, I decided against it. Instead I just said hello, wondering what would be next.

“I need some clothes,” he said.

“You think?”

“Yes.” And he turned around and marched back up the stairs. It was assumed I would follow and put his diaper on. Funny how the one thing I’d like him to learn to do himself, which is going to the bathroom, he has no interest in.

I’ve read books that explain how, when children start showing more independence, it’s okay to be a little sad, after all it’s another step in their road to growing up and becoming their own person. Someday they’ll leave you, blah-blah-blah. I don’t find it sad at all; I mostly find it irritating. Everything takes twice as long when three-year-olds do things themselves. Also, they cheat; they say they want to climb into their car seats, but they just use it as an excuse to quickly crawl into the back of your SUV so you can’t get to them. When you finally stop yelling and walk around to open the backdoor, they crawl back, so you end up doing this funny and desperate run-around-the-car thing, knowing all your neighbors are laughing at you because their children are grown and they don’t have to deal with this nonsense.

I know this won’t last forever; I’ve heard from other, more experienced, parents that teenagers can’t do anything of their own accord except pouting and arguing (and going to the bathroom, I hope). I guess I should attempt to enjoy this phase more; after all, he is still relatively small and cute. Especially when he takes a pause from yelling “NO!” at the top of his lungs. His independence also means he speaks more in full sentences, and he is no longer afraid of the dinosaur puppet I bought for him eight months ago. Oh, and these days, he spills his dinner only about 40% of the time. I’m counting my blessings.

Larry King tonight is interviewing a bunch of liars; these women are as trustworthy as Cheney during a hunting trip. They sound like robots and look away every time they answer a question. They show all the telltale psychological signs of deceit, and they sound like robots.  “Our children need us”, they claim. Do they think the rest of America is stupid? Don’t they realize we can see right through their rehearsed stories and make-believe tales of being the victims? These women are victims of do-it-yourself brainwashing only. And why aren’t we hearing from the men? Another question I have is: why is there a picture of Warren Jeffs in every room?

The Television keeps showing the tanks and agents in body armor; are we supposed to think there was an excessive use of force? Does anybody remember Waco? I’m sure the state of Texas did.

Funny how Winston Blackmore suddenly portrays himself as the “Good” Polygamist, in spite of the fact that he has at one point married a 15 year old. I think the one thing that we have failed to hear about so far is how incredibly young that is.

Do we dare listen to the debate tonight? I am wondering if Hillary will have anything new to share, or if it will be more of the same. I think we’ve just about had it with Rev. Wright and the accusation of elitism. We want something new, so here are some pointers for this evening’s Democratic debate that will allow the candidates to talk about stuff that actually matters:

1. Gun control, baby!  Today is the anniversary of the Virginia Tech bloodbath; it’s the perfect time to address this issue once and for all. It is still too easy for anybody to get their hands on a gun; no one needs an AK 47 in their linen closet. No one. No disrespect, but the NRA lost its leader; right now they are at their weakest. Strike while the iron is hot.
2. The environment continues to be a hot button; it’s never enough. Bush just gave a rambling speech today; advisors for both campaigns should have plenty of time to rip it apart before tonight’s event. Explain why he is useless, and how the Dems can do a better job. Honestly, you’ve got Gore in your party; this is a no-brainer.
3. A long and detailed discussion of how education will be improved under Democratic rule. Use big words, so Conservative talk show hosts can’t respond right away.
4. Speaking of conservative talk shows; can they be outlawed? We all know Free Speech doesn’t really exist.  Ask Reverend Wright.
5. Bring back jobs by super-taxing Wal-Mart for buying crap from China. And for not paying their employees enough. And for constructing these ugly buildings all over the place. And for being Wal-Mart.

Just some ideas; I’ll have more later but I’m running out of time. Get to work! And Hill, I still like you, but if you say the word “bitter” even once tonight, I’m giving up for good.

Bitter a. 1 Sharp to the taste  2 sorrowful, painful, resentful, etc. 3 harsh

Can one single word in the English language change the race? Time will tell. Right now, the ‘bitter’ debate rages on, because we’ve temporarily forgotten there are more important things to talk about. Meanwhile, I don’t hear anyone attacking Obama on his actual politics. Is that a good sign, or not? 

Maybe Michelle Obama provided her husband with the “Colbert Bump”.  On the other hand, Spitzer had the CB, and in the end, it would have been better if he had never been elected.

Bush, while addressing climate change: “When I took office, seven years ago, we had a problem.”

Yes we did, George. In fact, the problem is still here. It’s you. You should have never been President. Future generations will demand an explanation of why we ever allowed you into the White House. “Why?” they’ll ask, with that accusing tone in their voice that only those with hindsight can afford. “You might as well have elected Mickey Mouse.”

And they’ll be right.

Let’s hope we don’t make the same mistake a second…I mean, a third time.