My Achilles Heel

I often look at people on the subway or walking down the street and I think, they must have it easier than me. They can stop thinking. They don't have obsessive thoughts. They don't have anxiety, they don't deal with their heart racing most of the time.

However, upon reflection, I realize that every person has their own achilles heel.

Achilles, according to Greek Mythology, was dipped into the river Styx by his mother in an attempt to make him immortal. But when she dipped him into the water, she held him by his heel thereby making that part of his body vulnerable.

Every person has their own vulnerability.

My achilles heel is anxiety, panic, worry. I cannot stop thinking and worrying. Often, my brain makes me feel powerless. I cannot control my thoughts.

Though everyone has their own weakness, their own achilles heel, people are trained by society to hide their vulnerabilities. If we were more open about what we struggle with as individuals, we would feel a little less alone.

Our achilles heels make us who we are. By sharing our weaknesses we can learn from one another.

I say we break this societal pattern of hiding vulnerabilities.

What is your achilles heel?

My Children! My Africa! And Playtime!

Yesterday, my mom and I had the opportunity to see a play she's been dying to see for a while, My Children! My Africa*

My Children! My Africa! was written By Athol Fugard in 1989, shortly before the end of apartheid in South Africa.

While we were seeing the show, Ari got to go back to one of his favorite places, Playtime!.

Playtime! offers childcare to kids ages 4-12 years of age while their parents go see a show!

Click here if you want to learn more.

As soon as the elevator doors opened at the third floor of the Playwrights Horizons theater, Ari ran out and greeted the lovely ladies from Sitter Studio with a giant wave. He then watched a bunch of kids board the elevator he was just on. Without even pausing for a second he completely abandoned me and my mom, and bolted for the elevator with the kids who were headed to Playtime! It was pretty hilarious.

"Wait!" said one of the ladies from Sitter Studio "Ari! You need a name tag!"

We all laughed as Ari ran back from the elevator to get his name tag.

After Ari went on his way to have fun, my mom and I went to The Signature Theater to see the show.

The play was held at The Linney performance space at the Signature Theater. The Signature Theater is one of the most beautiful theaters I've ever seen. It even has it's own cafe and bookstore.

It also has this awesome touch screen thing, where you record your response to the play you've seen, and take your picture.

My Children! My Africa! was an intense play. It's about a bright boy named Thami, living in South Africa during the political revolution in 1984. His teacher, Mr. M., believes in Thami so much that he considers him to be a protege. Mr. M. starts a debate team and pairs Thami with young White female student from another school named Isabel.

Thami and Isabel are vastly different, and their differences are particularly apparent when they debate together.

The acting in this show is phenomenal. I felt like I was being transported to a totally different world. The actors were not actors, they felt as if they became those characters. That's when you know you're seeing a great show, when you feel like it's not acting at all.

My mom and I were near tears by the end of the play, it's very powerful.

After the show, we went to retrieve Ari-Boo from Playtime. Apparently he had made a new friend! When we tried to exit the theater through the elevator, he shook his head and pointed to the stairwell, where his new friend was leaving.

When we exited the theater, we got to talking with his new friend, a six year-old boy, and his mom who is also, get this, a Blogger! Her name is Shari, and she blogs over at Earth Mother Just Means I'm Dusty.

I told her I hope we can meet up again and have a play date with the boys!

After the show, and Playtime for Ari, we went out to eat at a diner. Ari ate three bites of his grilled cheese and this happened:

I guess he played pretty hard!

For information on My Children! My Africa click here

*We were able to see the show thanks to the amazing ladies at MamaDrama, courtesy of Playtime!

The Winner of Confessions of a Scary Mommy is...

Kristina!

You won Confessions of a Scary Mommy!

Sorry this is a day late guys! May 17th is still a great day to win something, eh?

This is the first thing I did this morning, after I made coffee of course.

Thanks to everyone who entered the giveaway!

A Letter to Anxiety

Anxiety,

I won't bother to start this letter with "Dear" because I don't value you. I guess you're better than depression because you give me energy to do things, but other than that, you just make me incredibly uncomfortable all the time.

I'm angry at you because you scare me. But the things that I'm scared about are not real. They're phantom fears, the fear of something bad happening to me, the fear of getting deathly ill, the fear of something scary happening to my kids. And it's all because of you, Anxiety.

I want to tell you something. I'll try to be as diplomatic about it as I can. Here goes, can you please go away? Pack your suitcase with your belongings, your toiletries (if you have any) and get out of my brain.

Only come back to visit me if something exciting is happening, something good.

I'm tired of my heart racing all the time for no reason. I'm emotionally exhausted, and I'm telling you nicely to go somewhere else.

You're bothering me.

Thank you. I hope you listen.

Mom Arm

The right side of my neck and my right arm were hurting for days. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me?! I considered consulting WebMD, but then I realized that I didn't need the internet to diagnose me, I could do the job myself.

The diagnosis:

Mom Arm

The symptoms: One of your arms (depending on whether you're a righty or a lefty) hurts like a bitch from lifting children every single day of your life.

Those who are predisposed to Mom Arm: Moms.

Is it contagious? No, but you might rob the people around you of their sanity by complaining about it.

The cure: Stop carrying your kids. Tell them to walk, even if they're babies. Wait...that's not going to work. I guess the cure is rest. Oh, but you can't do that either.

So the real answer is, Mom Arm is a chronic condition for which THERE IS NO CURE!

Do you have this condition or do you have another chronic condition that you coined yourself?

Old Jews Telling Jokes- With Jeff Fader's Review

Yesterday I had the opportunity through Playtime! to see Old Jews Telling Jokes.* Playtime! is a fantastic program that allows parents (of children ages 4-12) to go to the theater while their children are engaged in an artistic projects led by artist sitters!

Read more about Playtime! here.

When I first heard the title of the show, I knew exactly who to take with me to see it, my dad.

For those of you that know Jeff Fader, you're aware that he is always telling a corny joke, and he's Jewish. I just knew that this was the show for him!

I was positive that my dad would like Old Jews, because that's his style of humor. But I wasn't sure how I would feel about it.

After seeing it, I can report that "Old Jews Telling Jokes" was hilarious. There are all kinds of jokes in the show, religious jokes, birth jokes, sex jokes and old age jokes.

You might be wondering how actors telling jokes could hold your attention for an hour and a half. The jokes are told in various ways, some are told like stories and some jokes are acted out in little vignettes complete with scenery and props. This I can promise you, you won't be bored. The show is fast paced, and your attention is always held.

Here's what the joke connoisseur, Jeff Fader (and a surprise guest) had to say about the show:

Jewish, gentile, whatever you are, if you love to laugh this is the show for you!

For more information on Old Jews Telling Jokes click here.

*Full disclosure, tickets to the show were provided to me courtesy of the amazing ladies over at MamaDrama.

For more information on my experience with playtime, click here.

The Day I Broke The TV

It was an ordinary day. I was sitting on the couch transcribing for Doomsday Preppers, watching rednecks in the woods preparing to pee on a tarp.

All of a sudden, I saw Samara grab my cup filled with tea and proceed to dump it onto the floor and laugh. I felt rage and frustration enter my body starting from my stomach and rising up into my throat.

"Damn it!" I yelled to myself. This was the 14th day in a row that she had managed to spill my morning beverage, and I placed it in an area where I thought she couldn't grab it!

I was beside myself. And this wasn't just any tea, it was infused with chinese herbs that my acupuncturist formulated to help with anxiety.

I grabbed the empty cup and threw it. I didn't think, I just tossed the cup in frustration. I was angry that my tea had spilled, I was burnt out due to Wil working and being in school and not being around as much. I felt exhausted, spent, and angry. And I looked at that cup and I channeled all that anger, all of that frustration into it. And I hurled it as hard as I could.

Unfortunately, the TV happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and this is what happened:

I'm not that strong, so I'm not sure how this happened. This is the cup I threw:

Right now, I'm feeling really badly about the TV situation; especially because the TV was a gift from Wil's family.

I wish I'd thrown the cup at the wall or not thrown it at all.

The funny thing is I'm not a person that has anger issues. This was totally an anomaly.

Now I have to figure out how to fix the thing.

Sorry TV! I didn't mean to take my emotional baggage out on you.

The one plus side to having a broken TV is that we have to find ways to have fun without it, like Ari actually plays with his toys as opposed to zoning out on the couch.

Okay, time to look online for ways to fix Plasma TVs.

Have you ever broken anything in anger?

Happy 4th Birthday Ari Bear

Happy Birthday to my amazing 4 year-old, Ari. You are bright, inquisitive, sensitive and adventurous. Sometimes you're incredibly strong-willed and stubborn, and you drive me up the wall, but I love you more than you can imagine or conceive.

You are an incredible gift.

Happy Birthday little man!

Cats Don't Do Shit

I realized today that my cat really has a far better life than I do. Watch this.

And The Winner of A Parents' Guide to Creating Wonderful People is...

Thank you to everyone for entering the giveaway for Dr. Berryman's book A Parents' Guide to Creating Wonderful People

is:

melsmini!

Congratulations!

How does it feel to be a winner?