Love or Obligation

“I want kids so that I have someone to take care of me when I get older.”

Someone said this to me once. Flat out, the only reason they wanted kids was that they expected free help as they aged. They expected their children who were not born yet to care for them out of obligation.

I don’t believe in doing things out of obligation.

I do things out of love.

If I help you, it is not a tit for tat situation. It is because I really care about you and will do what is within my power to help you. When my friend G was diagnosed with liver cancer and had about three months to live, I just pitched in wherever I could help his family- take his kid home from school, pick up prescriptions, take him to chemo. Whatever he needed, I helped because he was my friend. No recompense needed.

When my parents became ill, I did not do things because of the things they did for me in the past. I did it because I love them. Period.

My daughter is stressed out now- lots of work and such for the final push towards graduation. I said to her “What can I do to help you?”. This wasn’t said because I screwed up and was a bad parent and I owed her, it wasn’t because I felt obligated because she’s my daughter: it’s because I love her and will try to help her in ways that she could use help.

I help out of love. Obligation is paying back money like my mortgage, or paying my credit card bills. Doing something for others is love.

Next time you are doing something for someone, or someone is doing something for you, think about why you’re doing it. If it’s for any reason other than love, think again.

Put It Aside

My nephew recently celebrated his Bar Mitzvah. In the Jewish faith, this is a very important ritual that proclaims that the recipient becomes an adult. And all I can say is that he certainly behaved like an adult, unlike the behavior of two of his grandparents…

My Mother in Law and Father in Law are divorced for about fifteen years. It was an unhappy marriage and an even unhappier split. My in-laws can’t stand each other. And nowhere was it more evident than at the parties surrounding the rite.

On Friday night they were seated at the same table as each other. They sat on opposite ends and did not speak. My MIL did manage to make it to our table and say really nasty things about my FIL… My FIL didn’t say anything bad, but did he have a sour face the whole evening… At some point my MIL couldn’t find her purse and my FIL had it- never did quite figure out what was going on there…

At the big party of Saturday, my MIL managed to tell everyone she spoke to that my FIL cheated her out of all her money- and this includes the hair dresser that helped her before the party (the claim is false- they had to settle and she had been the primary bread winner, so yes, she did have to pay him, but as they both said they were cheated I’d guess it was a fair settlement). But remember, this is a celebration…but never did she mention her grandson, the young man of the hour. Not once.

My FIL on the other hand chose to be morose. He sat as far away from the dance floor as possible, and it wasn’t because of the volume of the music. It was evident that he didn’t want to be part of the action… So tuned out was he, when the DJ announced that the grandfather would slice the challah, three times it was announced, my daughter had to run across the floor to get him… I have to say that the cutting/blessing of the challah is a very important tradition, and it is a great honor to be the one chosen to do this… so how could you not be paying attention?

FIL also didn’t go to the dance floor when they put my nephew up on the chair…another big tradition (for those not familiar- the group encircles the honoree and a group of able bodied people lift the honoree on a chair, raising the chair up and down, while the crowd claps- it’s quite fun even though you swear the person is going to fall off the chair) FIL didn’t dance the hora. FIL didn’t dance with his daughter, his niece, my daughter or even his partner… He sat and stewed. All night.

At the Sunday brunch, my MIL sat down with her ex brother in law, and told him how much she hated his sister… Seriously- she said that the sister was a horrible person who did nothing for the family and she didn’t understand why anyone talked to the sister. Remember, it’s the guys SISTER…and obviously her exes sister…

To recap- my MIL bad mouthed my FIL to literally everyone she talked to. My FIL sat and didn’t talk to anyone and didn’t take part in anything. My MIL said her ex SIL was a bitch. I don’t think I saw either of them smile the whole weekend. Neither of them toasted or made a speech about their Grandson. For people who talk about how much their religion means to them, how much their family means to them…they sure didn’t act that way… This was a big celebration, a huge rite of passage, and they couldn’t get past themselves to enjoy it.

Does hating your ex trump everything else?

There are times when exes who have children and grandchildren must get together. Shouldn’t all parties force themselves to reach some sort of détente? Shouldn’t they get past their bitterness and rage for a few hours and enjoy the good things that came of their union, even if the union wasn’t so great?

Is bitter really what you want to be wearing when your Grandson is celebrating something?

If you had to see your ex at an event, would you try your best to have a good time, and let the resentment pass, just for that time? Or is holding on to the anger the best way to go?



My sister lives across the country. When she comes to visit, she stays with my parents. This is not an unusual family situation- out of town relatives often stay with one another.


My sister and my parents have diametrically opposite views on just about everything. I mean really, everything…

And when my sister comes to town, they verbally spar. They verbally spar about 90% of the time. When my sister came to town a few months ago, her plane landed about 6pm. By 9am the next day she was already texting me about the arguments…

I understand my sister’s point of view. She is just trying to be herself. She loves our parents, wants to see them, yet…

My parents are not always easy to get along with…

And some of my sister’s ideas on life are a bit out there…

I clearly understand both sides in this situation.

I understand the cross words and raised tempers.

I just wish that all of them could be quiet sometimes.

I understand the need to get one’s point across. I understand wanting to be heard and not wanting to be marginalized. I understand that we are all allowed to have our own opinions. I get that opinions can never be wrong.

But…at the end of the day…my sister visiting is a lot of grief for everyone. I don’t know if my sister or my parents are actually happy during the visits. I receive calls from both sides…complaining…

I am very stressed out when my sister visits because I hate to be in the middle. I hate trying to broker peace.

So my question is thus:

If a visit to family causes angst, should you visit?

Do you continue the visits out of a sense of obligation? Out of trying to assuage guilt?

Is there a time when you shouldn’t visit your family?

Which regret is worse: not seeing your family because you drive one another crazy or feeling bad that you don’t see your family?


The Little Things

If you live with family, or a roommate, how often do you acknowledge the little things that they do for you?

How often do they acknowledge what you do for them?

Replacing the toilet paper…buying the toilet paper…wiping down the toilet…

Do you do these tasks? Do you help with these tasks? Does someone else do these tasks? Do you expect someone else to do these tasks?

We ran out of toilet paper last week.

Normally, I am the person who replaces the paper on the holder. Usually they just grab a tissue. At least, I hope that they grab a tissue…but rarely does someone take off the used brown cylinder and replace it with a fresh gleaming roll…

And this is how I know that we are running out of paper…because I put the roll on and I count how many rolls there are left.

Early in pandemic, I would buy toilet paper when I saw it. I would pick up my one rationed pack and tote it home because we really didn’t know if we would see toilet paper again. I’m surprised some enterprising company didn’t rename their paper “Unicorn” because sightings were rare, and we would text each other if we say it…

“Morton Williams. Now. The good Charmin in four packs…”

But I digress…thinking about the good old days and how we had to forage for a square…

Back to my bathroom…

The other day, a miracle happened. Someone in my house replaced the toilet paper.


Alas, the person who took that last roll out of the plastic covering failed to make the connection that throwing the package away meant that there was nothing left. Not a square to spare…

And neither alerted me to the lack of tp, nor bought a roll on their own.

Toilet paper

toilet paper

toilet paper

Nope. Not like Beetlejuice. You don’t say it three times and have it appear.

You have to actually go to the store and buy it…

Who knew?

Well, you know who knew? The person that always does these things…

So if someone in your life does the little things that make your world go a little more smoothly, give them a little nod every now and then. Be appreciative of the little things that they do. Maybe buy them a present.

Or maybe just check on the toilet paper situation, so that the person who does so much for you doesn’t go into the bathroom and say “Oh crap” for the wrong reason…

Because I’m Not

I have spent three days talking about how much I love being alone, and how much it nourishes my soul. I said to my friend last week, “I think I was meant to be alone.” Of course I was basking in the afterglow of a jetted bath, face masque freshly washed off, tea in hand and the property brothers on the tv in front of me. I was in a unique and blissful and perfect setting. It was an amazing moment to relish.

But it wasn’t reality. It was a fantasy twelve hours in a hotel suite. I got to pretend to be single and childless for a few hours. And that’s the exact word: pretend. Because being alone is not my real life, so a few hours with nothing to do and no one to please was a treat.

Do I really want to be alone?

I think we all long for a respite from the day to day. People with no kids often love an afternoon with nieces and nephews but are more than relieved to let them go after a few active hours. Parents with small children often look forward to sleeping in, no matter how much of a morning person they are. I think everyone needs a vacation from their actual lives.

But do we want to change places?

Do we want that opposite life?

I loved my alone time. I love alone time. But I think I have a spouse and child for a reason. I think I have a small but well cultivated social network for a reason. I love having a family and friends AND I love to spend some time alone. Unfortunately, sometimes the balance gets shifted. When you’re a parent and/or have a needy spouse, you sometimes fall victim to the martyr syndrome: you do what you need to do to make everyone around you happy, but sometimes forget about yourself.

Cue the teeny tiny violins. Woe is me with my family and my friends while all I wish  for is solitude…

We adapt to our environments. We make the best out of whatever situation we find ourselves in. But it does get easy to get into the “grass is greener” mindset. It’s easy for me to talk about alone time because I don’t have to worry about being alone: I’m not. And conversely, someone who is single can crave family time and want it because they know they have the opposite.

So while I wax poetic about my two weekends alone, do I really want to make that 52 weekends?


A Shoulder Tale

Once upon a time, the royal household received a delivery of pet supplies, a three pound bag of dog food and a twenty seven pound canister of cat litter.  The King brought the big box up from the lobby and left it in the hallway of the royal apartment.

The royal household is run on a tight budget, so the hallway is more petit than it is grande, so the big box took up half the hallway, and  the royal family members had to walk around or over the box to get from one side of the palace to the other. After five hours of this, the queen finally opened the box and took out the dog food and put it away.  Then the Queen went to lift the heavy litter.  Well, to be frank, the Queen was a little ticked off that no other member of the royal household was willing to put anything away, so she wasn’t really paying attention to how she took the litter out.  And what happens when you don’t pay attention? The Queen ended up aggravating her right shoulder.


Alas, the pain was somewhat mild, so the Queen just went about her day and tried to make sure her shoulder didn’t aggravate her as much as her family aggravates her.

And though there was a twinge of pain, the Queen was able to get by.

Last evening, the Queen decided to end her week with a Queen-like bath: bath bomb, face mask, music, candle, hot tea, warm water. Perfection.  After her water relaxation, the Queen began her post bath ritual- which is a plethora of lotions and creams.  And as the Queen began applying her favorite lavender lotion, the Queen heard a pop of sorts.  But the pop of sorts did not come from the speaker.  No.  This sound came from the Queen’s shoulder.


The Queen was in so much pain her eyes crossed. She was having trouble putting her robe on.


And the Queen exited the bathroom and started barking orders- someone heat up the heat wrap.  Someone get me a pain reliever.

And the Queen went to lay in her bed.

The King and the Princess realized that they better move and move fast.  The longer the Queen was out of commission, the worse it was going to be for them.

When the Queen woke up this morning she was feeling a little better (talk about waking up on the wrong side of 50…) but she knows that she can not push it, or pull it, or lift it. She knows that her shoulder is a big accident waiting to happen.

The Queen surveyed the Palace this morning and noticed that no one put anything away- dirty dishes on the coffee table, clean dishes in the dishwasher, clothes on the floor, snacks left on the kitchen counter.

The Queen was not (and is not) amused.

But the Queen is going to put a blindfold on and ignore the state of the palace.

The Queen is going to rest her shoulder.

So that they can live happily ever after.



Good, Better, Best

Have you ever played the board game “Say Anything”? It’s a favorite in our house for family game night.  Basically, someone asks a question, and the other players pick what they think the reader will answer.  Then the reader chooses which answer is most correct. When faced with LA trivia so to speak, my Husband knows me pretty well.  When given the question- “If you could start again, what occupation would you have?” Husband knows that the correct answer to that question, for me, would be “FBI Profiler”. Yes- you heard it hear first- if I was entering college, I would take the necessary steps to become a profiler (not a writer as you all may have thought).  He knows my favorite dessert (mille crepe cake from Lady M bakery), and that pink is my favorite color.  We have had many long conversations in our years together, but just because he knows the LA trivia file, does he know me best?

When discussing relationships a few weeks ago, Leslie talked about who knows you better, your friends or you significant other. And while it’s true that my Husband knows the facts, are facts the only thing that goes into “knowing” someone?

Last week I most definitely woke up on the wrong side of 50.  I was out of sorts.  Husband- well- he did not notice a thing.  Daughter though- she was all over me.  She knew within a minute of talking to me that not all was right in my world. She was able to read my body language and facial expression, and I guess interpret what I was actually thinking behind the glib words that I had thrown out that morning. So, while she might not know all the facts about me, she can definitely read my moods better. Does this mean that  she “knows” me better?

I have a friend “G”.  I called her a witch last week. (yes- witch with a “W”) and I meant it in the best of ways.  We were having a simple, pleasant text  conversation about the colleges our daughters are applying to and her kitchen renovation. And then she asked a question- basic question, but it was exactly the thing on my mind (and needless to say it had .nothing to do with kitchens or colleges).  I said “How did you know I was thinking about that?” and she wrote back “LOL. I woke up this morning and thought that. Figured I’d ask while we were chatting.” So, does her intuition about me show that she knows me best?

What do we mean when we ask “Who knows me best?”? Is it facts, is it sense of mood, or is it just knowing without saying a word? Does it just depend on who the person is, as some are more emotionally connected or more intuitive by nature? When you say you “know” someone, what do you mean by that?

The people in my inner circle- I think I know them well, but I admit, some I know better factually, while others I just connect with on an emotional level.  I’m not sure what the real difference is. I’m not even sure if there is a difference. But I guess what really matters is the connection that we forge.  And maybe different relationships are supposed to be on different levels…

OK- I’m throwing this over to you: Who knows you best? Family, friends, partner?


Family: Too Much? Too Little?


Family: the people who raise you, the people you marry, the relations of your partner, the children you create or take into your heart.  These relationships can bring much joy and happiness.  They can also put you into a pit of despair.  So is there ever a time to push family to the side?

Recently there was a case in New York state where a Mother and Father sued their 30 year old son because he would not leave their house.  They wanted to evict him, and guess what?  They won. Son had to move out.  There was a lot of controversy over whether or not the parents should have sued their child.  I won’t give an opinion on their situation, because I was not their intimate: I have no idea what was going on in the household.  But, the parents had obviously had enough of the situation so they did the only thing that they thought would help them: legal action.

At what point does family get you so crazy that you take them to court?

At what point does family annoy you so much that you try to keep distance?

At what point does family get you so down you can’t see them anymore?

Which brings us to: Should family get a “free pass” for bad behavior?  Should we just accept our families for how they are, and pretend that everything is fine?

As it is what I often refer to as “Write my blog Thursday” I will ask you all:

  1. Is it OK to get angry/be angry with family?
  2. Is there a point where you should walk away from family?
  3. Should family be kept at arm’s length?
  4. Should you accept boorish or disrespectful behavior just because someone is family?

You know there will be a follow up…


Be Careful What You Wish For

My niece and nephew (twins)  recently had their B’Nai Mitzvah.  But when you plan this type of event, you must do it way in advance because kids are required to have prepared Torah passages, and most people I know do not speak conversational Hebrew.  So we, the family and friends, have known the date for years.


So, my mother in law and father in law have been talking about this for years.


Every conversation with them would start with “Can’t wait for the mitzvah.”  The middle of every conversation would include something about the mitzvah.  And every conversation would end with “Don’t forget the mitzvah will be here soon.”  And I get the grandparent thing.  They’re excited to share the religion with the offspring of their offspring (my daughter is not being raised to follow either Catholicism or Judaism- so the had no such joy from our household) Yet, it is also a case of having absolutely nothing else going on in their lives.  Nothing.  They have no hobbies.  They have few friends.  They have absolutely nothing to look forward to.

So here’s lesson number one: make sure you have at least one hobby that you enjoy.  When faced with the questions, “Why do I need to get out of bed today?” make sure it’s because you have something you can’t wait to do.  And it could literally be anything.  Set a goal to “walk” to China by counting your steps every day.  Watch every Cary Grant movie ever made.  Volunteer anyplace.  You’re getting the idea:  hobbies don’t have to cost a lot of money.

As of now, my in laws hobbies are: annoying my husband, annoying my sister in law, complaining about my husband and sister in law, complaining about their friends/neighbors, complaining about other relations and complaining about me.  They clearly need to find something else to do until the date is set for the Bar Mitzvah of my other nephew.

Now, let’s get to the next part of the issue: What happens when you talk about something for two years, when you look forward to something at the exclusion of everything else?  What happens when you build up something to epic proportions?

We had to go to Temple services the evening before.  my Mother in Law fell asleep during the Rabbi’s talk.  And not just a little doze: she tilted totally to the side, and if the benches did not have little separators, she would have fallen to the left.  Did I mention she snorts when she sleeps?

When we got to Temple the next morning, the first thing my Sister in Law said to us was ‘Please go sit with Dad cause he’s in a snit.” When we sat in row with him, he started complaining that my Mother in Law got seated in the row in front of him at Temple.  he complained that he had been at Temple for an hour, and he was only in two of the pre event pictures.

At the breakfast that is served immediately after a Mitzvah (I don’t remember what it’s called) my family and I had to run to opposite sides of the room to talk to in laws, because they would not sit at tables adjacent to one another.  We called it bagel on the run…

Then, there is the reception.  If you are my Mother in Law, you spend the cocktail hour in the lackluster outer room, when everyone else is in the bar room with the food and the great view.  You decide to find something wrong with every college her granddaughter (mu daughter) is applying to.  Her professionally made up face does not crack a smile.

The dinner portion saw my FIL and MIL sit at their tables, stone faced.  They barely danced.  They barely got up from the table.  They didn’t smile, they didn’t laugh, they didn’t talk to anyone.  The event that they had spoken so highly of for years was playing in a loop right before their eyes, and they didn’t care.

My MIL was annoyed because my niece and nephew weren’t paying any attention to her.  Gee: you mean at a party with at least 50 of their friends, they weren’t sitting in the back of the room with my MIL?  Shocking I say.

FIL was annoyed that he wasn’t being revered as an elder statesman.  In his mind, the crowd would part as he walked the room, kissing his ring and asking for his sage advice and blessing.  It’s a party with DJ’s and spinning lights and too much food.  And it wasn’t his event.  My niece and nephew, and their parents were the stars of the day.  As they should be.

The problem was, they had an idea in their minds as to how this would play out.  And the actual event did not match their expectations.  Their vision of the event was not realistic: they set themselves up to fail.

So, what’s the take away?

  1. Get a hobby
  2. Realize it’s great to look forward to something.  Looking forward to something actually makes you happy.  But, be realistic as to your expectations.
  3. Don’t expect other people to act the way you want them to act.  You can only control your own actions, not the actions of others.
  4. Don’t drive your children, their partners, and your grandchildren crazy.  It’s not a good look.