Today I'm blogging (and taking up precious houseworking Penina sleeping time) because I'm craving friendship contact. I walked the kids to camp and smiled at all the kids and grownups, but everyone is just so new and so not familiar. There's a certain niceness to living somewhere for a long time and just knowing everyone and being familiar with people. It's like watching a TV show and knowing the characters really well. I'm still part of a new TV show and I'm patiently waiting to get "into it".
Moving is really more difficult friendwise than we think. How do you jump from pleasantly smiling and answering questions about how much is unpacked and how the kids are settling in, to really having a real conversation? Or being able to be weird and people loving you for it?
I'm clueless on how to feed a growing 9 month old who doesn't nurse. Never had that before. I used to feed unwilling to eat babies and then just nurse them for nutrition and hunger. So this morning I made egg salad and then wondered if maybe I should add avocado because she doesn't like avocado by itself. Then I threw in random spices and it was so delicious that I put it in my own bagel and I'm eating it now. Throughout the experiments though, I texted a friend, sister and mom to ask about their opinions. One was interested and we had a whole discussion about food for babies. Another said yuck and wondered what color it would be (grey) and then said that she's eating avocado with sauerkraut. And the third said "yum". This is me being me with my old familiar people. If I randomly texted someone in Prov, they'd be like "this woman is strange".
Speaking of random texts - Seminary girl has been texting me nightly now with great chizuk texts! First, it's so nice to know texting exists in Providence, the computer-less world. I love that little ding that means someone is thinking of me. Second, late at night is when I usually feel exhausted and kind of depressed looking around at my huge mess and wondering when I'll be able to get a handle on things. To get a text that says, "Make it a beautiful night and remember Hashem is in control!" is really helpful at that time of night. I could probably give her a long list of people to add to her nightly chizzuk lines! If only she was more my age, maybe we'd actually get along... But then, some people marry someone twenty years younger than them. Why would she be interested in an old lady with 4 kids? I must be desperate.
Anyway, it takes time to be able to be your own strange self. I don't let Mo wear his ties to school anymore, because he needs to be normal first before starting in on that foot. Yes he can wear his green crocks on Shabbos, and his blue TDS uniform shirt on Shabbos, but no - the bathrobe/bekeshe and basket/streimel on his head have to stay home. Maybe in a few months. It's funny, he won't get in Shabbos clothes on Friday because people will laugh and wonder why he's in Shabbos clothes when it's not Shabbos, but he will wear a basket on his head to be chassidish. (I'm looking for a toy streimel for Purim.)
And now back to housework. Big houses are roomier but way more work to clean. I need to stop blaming my kids for all the messes even though it's them that made them. That sounds confusing. If they made it, who else should I blame?
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