Blogging might be light in the next week. Why? Because it’s CAMP RUNAMUKAH time! We have been looking forward to this for months and now it’s finally here!

The fun. The tears. The laughter. The little cousin who won’t stop touching the toys you don’t want them to touch. The copious amounts of wine. The Cousin Sister that you haven’t seen in a year who you miss so much. The nights where you know you need to go to bed because you have to deal with ALL THESE CHILDREN tomorrow but you just can’t stop talking.

On the camp roster for Runamukah 2009 is my mom’s twin sister Sheila and her husband Paul (also know as Aunt Sheila and Uncle Paul). My cousin Amy, her husband Bo and their three kids. Of course my brother, my sister in law Sarah and my nephews Elijah and James. My parents, Ben and I. And last but surely not least, my sister, her husband Yossi and their seven children.

So even though there won’t be much blogging, I promise some pictures. Because seriously, this will be a site to see.

Wordless Wednesday

Sunday morning my parents, Ben and I headed down to Milwaukee to see the Brewers DESTROY the Braves. 

This was a particularly fun excursion because it was my mom’s very first Major League Baseball game.  She wanted to experience it all, including the tailgating.  Because we are who we are, our wild and crazy tailgate consisted of 4 camping chairs, bottles of water and Milio’s subs.  The look on my mom’s face was priceless as she saw grill after grill of brats, hamburgers and whatever else a good ‘Sconnie can think to grill up.  Not to mention the copious amounts of beer.  OY!  The beer!  Well it IS a Brewer game.  I was going to take a picture of us tailgating but as my mom said, “Nah, ours is sort of pathetic…”

After we packed away our tabouli and hummus (Yes.  Really.) we headed into the ball park.  If you haven’t had the joy of attending a game at Miller Park do yourself a favor and put it on your “Things To Do Before I Die” list.  It’s a gorgeous stadium and our seats were awesome!

The only downfall was that the sun was shining right on us.  If I was an ant, I would have died.  It was, most likely, the closest to sitting on the surface of the sun I will ever get.  Serengeti Desert has NOTHING on our seats that day.  India?  Freezing. 

See my healthy glow?  Glow my ass… that was SWEAT!  Lots and lots of sweat.

In fact the sun was so strong my mother finally gave in and fulfilled a 30 year fantasy of my father’s.  He finally got to buy her a baseball hat.  Which she wore!  Even Fashionista Ben said, “Grandma, you look so cute!”

Speaking of that sweet boy, he recently decided that the third baseman, Bill Hall, is his favorite player.  He sent him a fan letter and made my mom walk all over the stadium (and therefore missing at least 2 innings) to find this shirt…

For someone that doesn’t follow baseball you might not know but good ol Billy Hall has had a tough year.  That’s putting it quite mildly.  Let’s just say that I’m fairly certain my boy was the only one (save for Bill’s mother) of the 43,000 fans wearing a number 2 shirt that day.  Just one of the many reasons I love my kid.  He roots of the underdog.

Which is good because the Brewers got creamed on Sunday.  But you wouldn’t know it by these happy faces. 

I’m thrilled my mom loved the game because we are going again with my sister-in-law and her whole die-hard-tailgating-for-four-hours-before-the-game family on August 16th!  

And it’s a good thing she now has a hat!

The BlogHer conference is the end all be all of Bloggy Bloggerton Blogville conferences. It’s the Mecca for geeks like me that share their inner most thoughts for the whole world to see and the place where I could finally meet IN PERSON all my virtual bloggy friends.

I wanted to go. I had plans to go. Hell it was even on my calendar!  But then, there was that fateful day when Cousin Sister Amy told me that all the tickets were sold out. Tickets? What tickets?  You mean we actually had to BUY tickets to this conference?  I couldn’t just show up in all my Princess Mikkimoto glory and say “I’m HERE!!”

In April when I found out this news I was bummed but then proceeded to get quickly distracted by my new high score in Bejeweled and the bottle of white wine chilling in the fridge.

But now as I see all my bloggy friends deciding what to wear to the big event, talking about their agendas and where they are staying, I am so sad! I really wanted to meet in person Kelcey, Sarah, Kel and that new best friend I didn’t even know I had.

Not to mention this conference is taking place in CHICAGO! A mere two hours away from me. They are so close I can almost hear the laughter. Maybe I should just go, sit outside the doors, nose affixed to the glass hoping for a peek of action and with a cone to my ear so I can hear some of the talks.

Or maybe I should just suck it up as a newbie blogger that I missed out this year but next, come hell or high water, I’m there!

In the meantime, to help with the sorrow, this wild bunch is coming out a week from today.

Hold on to your yarmulkes! Camp Runamukah 2009 is on steroids.

Wordless Wednesday

Guess what one word my child didn’t hear for the entire six days he was with my parents? Guess what one word he has totally forgotten the meaning of?  Guess what word I had to say A LOT in the past few days since he’s been back?

“NO!”

I pulled up to my parents house on Friday afternoon, serendipitously at the same time they did; just to have my boy fling open their car door and run into my arms. Yes, it was very Hollywood movie like and beyond sweet when he said he wasn’t going to leave my side for the ENTIRE WEEKEND! He even cried he was so happy to see me.

That notion lasted maybe 10 minutes. After we transferred all his stuff and gave lots of hugs and “thank you’s” to my parents, we immediately went to his Little League game. It was the playoffs and even though he wasn’t suited up we still had to go cheer on the team!
Once there I said, “Where do you want to sit, honey?” To which he replied, “I think I’ll just go in the dugout, Mom.”

At the pizza party afterward, it was more of the same. “Who is this mother you speak of? Mom who?”
I was fine with this since I realized he hadn’t been with anyone under the age of 70 for the past week.

But once he got his groove back, he also tested the water. Every single drop of water.
“I think for dinner I’ll just have brownies.”
“What? Um, no you won’t.”
“But that’s all I want. Just one?”
“No.”
“Just a part of one?”
“Are you crazy?  Who eats brownies for dinner?”
“Well apparently I do and I’d like one.  Please.  For dinner.”
“Benjamin RICHARD! I swear to everything that is good and holy in this world, if you ask me again your next dessert will be when Michelle Obama is President.”

Needless to say this went on for a good 48 hours.

Until, like every wild stallion, he was broken. The Over Indulgent Grandparent Spell wore off and he finally saw me. He blinked a couple times, rubbed his eyes and then there was recognition Ah yes! There is that woman who I call “Mom”. That lady doesn’t back down no matter how many times I ask her if I can skateboard down the stairs, if I can brush my teeth with chocolate or if she will buy me a Xbox because I AM JUST SO BORED!

I am officially The Tired.

This carefree, swinging-single lifestyle is exhausting. And even though I miss my kid something awful, it’s also quite fun.

Monday night was really the only low point of the week. I got take-out, rented a movie and hunkered down at home. Ready for a cozy quiet night in. However “cozy and quiet” quickly turned to “sad and lonely” as soon as the food was gone and the movie was over.
It was just then when Ben called to say good night. I was determined not to let him hear me cry, but I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer so I quickly said, “Um can I talk to Grandma, honey?” When my mom got on the phone I lost it.

SOB
“I miss him so much!”
SOB. SOB.
“I hate this! Our house is too big and quiet and I won’t make it through the week….”
Sniffle sniffle SOB. SOB.

At some point she put Ben back on the phone and since he knows me so well he knew I was crying, so he too started to cry. At which point Natalie gets back on the phone and says in her best Jewish Mother Don’t Pull This Shit voice “REBECCA! Pull it together! Now your son is crying hysterically and you need to fix this. Oh man he’s a wreck. Fix this!”
So when Ben got BACK on the phone for convo numero three-o, I proceeded to make him laugh, tell him I was fine if he was fine and promise him a pony and batting practice with Prince Fielder if he stopped crying.

Ever since that night, I have successfully pulled myself up by my bra straps and embraced this all too rare week with the gusto of a 21 year old on Spring Break in Cabo.

Tuesday night I went to Ben’s Little League playoff game. (yes, I was fully aware that my player wasn’t there but HEY! That’s my team too! Plus I love the other mom’s…) After they won I went to dinner at this fabulous hole-in-the-wall Thai place with my friend Jackie. With a belly full of amazing Pad Thai and a perma smile from our talks about our kids, I met my friend Steve at the bar in my backyard for a drink. Or four.

Last night I went with my friend Vicki to Concerts on the Square. So much fun! We started out with some great cold white wine and were so wrapped up in conversation, (and of course the great music) we didn’t realize until too late that the food stands were all packed up. Luckily there was one popcorn stand still open. I have now realized that Carmel Corn + Cheese Popcorn + Wine = HEAVEN! Don’t knock it till you try it folks.

Tonight it’s off to get my way grown out and very gray hair did. After that, another Game Night with The Boys. Although I promise tonight will be an early one as tomorrow my BABY COMES HOME!

Not to mention I have to figure out how to get Prince Fielder back from Cincinnati in time to meet us at the batting cages.

Wordless Wednesday

It had the makings of a perfect first date.  The texts between boy and girl were flying until just minutes before they met, filled with such giddiness it was palpable.  The mid-summer weather was perfect.  White puffy clouds with robin egg blue sky behind.  And not a hint of humidity; which greatly pleased the girl and her straightened hair.

They met at the Union, first in the sun then moved to the shade to prevent unpleasant first date melting.  They talked.  She drank a beer, he had nothing but a sweet smile.  However, the girl couldn’t help but notice something was off.  She pondered.  What could it be?  Her nerves?  Her desire to make it perfect?  They had such a connection online…

She ignored this nagging feeling that something wasn’t right and suggested walking up State Street to the Art Fair on the Square.  Once on the square the shiny silver things, in what seemed like every other booth, distracted her and pulled her toward them like a tide.  He laughed at her and her predictability as they passed many more silvery dangles. 

She found herself starving and suggested eating, even though it was barely 5 pm.

They shared a nice meal and laughed at the eccentric people at the tables next to them.  She made out the writing on the shirt of the man to her left and laughed out loud.  He asked what it said.  She read, “If a man is out as sea with no women around and says something wrong, is he still wrong?”  He asked, “Well, is he?”  She responded, “of course!”

After dinner, on the walk back down to their cars, she knew she could no longer deny that something was missing.  That One Thing you look for and need but can’t create no matter how hard you try.  She knew he was confused by her back and forth behavior and she also knew this sweet man needed to know the truth.  She asked him to sit in an empty bench as she said, “I’m so sorry…” 

They parted ways, hopefully with no hard feelings and hopefully still as friends. 

Afterward, she went to a nearby restaurant and got, yet another, table for one.

Three weeks ago, my parents went out of town for a week. After we dropped them off at the airport, Ben began to cry softly.  If you have read more than three posts on this blog, you know that Ben and I are sorta close to my parents. “Sorta” being a gross understatement. Therefore, going a whole week without them was really hard on the little dude.  Me?  I just missed their cable.   

The night they got back, as we were over there for dinner (and free laundry), my mom mentioned their next upcoming week long trip. She is doing yet another workshop on her amazing quilts at Sievers on Washington Island.  Immediately upon hearing this news, Ben stopped his computer game, looked at his grandmother with sheer disgust and said, “WHAT?!!”

Because Natalie would rather vote for a Republican than bring pain and suffering to her grandchildren, a light bulb went off. “HEY! BEN! Come with us! You and Grandpa would have so much fun while I teach!” And off they went, literally running into the kitchen to tell my dad their great idea. Leaving me back in the computer room. All alone.

A lot of excitement, three nodding heads and a phone call to the resort later, it was a done deal. My child is going to be RIPPED from his mother’s arms for a whole week.  Sunday through Friday. People! CAN YOU COUNT? That is SIX days and FIVE NIGHTS!!!!!
One night is fine. Freeing in fact. Two night, eh, that’s OK… a little harder but I can handle it. FIVE NIGHTS! Are you mad!?!? Are you deranged?!? Ben and I haven’t been apart that long… EVER!
Even though part of me wanted to protest and say maybe next year, I put on my brave face and then proceeded to make an obscene amount of plans. Plans with backup plans if Plans A and B fall through.
I know this will be great experience for Ben and my parents.  It’s the perfect age, for all of them.  Also, it will actually be good for Ben and I. Because, ah, clearly some separation wouldn’t be the worst thing. College is only 9 years away. 

However, if you hear some whimpering and whining around the Madison area… it’s just me.  A mother bear missing her cub.

Clearly you can take the child away from it’s mother but you can’t take the drama out of the mama!