Going Coo Coo Looking For Cocoa Puffs

It is a good thing I wasn’t born a man. I don’t get how suits, shirts and ties can all have different patterns yet still “match.” I definitely don’t have the aim that is required to pee standing up. And I would remain single forever as I would never ever be able to find another woman in the world who I love as much as my Mommy.

I actually look in the mirror every morning HOPING to be turning into her. I know I’ll never have her pretty blue eyes, or her perfect little ankles but she’s got that good person glow about her that I would love to have. She is giving and kind and generous. She is funny and sassy and has the best clothes ever. And seriously, the best Mahotma Baubie in the universe.

What always makes me revel in her glory this time of year is how she cleans her house for Pesach so I don’t have to.

I will say that part again so you see where my mind is going.

She cleans her house for Pesach, so I don’t have to.

Every year we go there for the entire holiday and every year she works for weeks staying up nights to clean every nook and cranny of her house. She doesn’t sleep, she runs herself ragged and ends up getting some sort of weird disease because she‘s been a nursery school teacher for over 25 years and is immune to all the normal ones. She is exhausted, beaten down, tired out and is always thrilled to see us when we waltz in an hour before yontif.

It’s one of those good but potentially bad things. The most important part of Pesach is the actual chametz cleaning upping. The fridge, the oven, the sink…but if you are like a lot of people I know you use it as a motivation to go through your house and get rid of your dreck. So it means I have a lot of stuff in my house that I should have gone through years ago.

My drawers are crammed full of unfortunate clothing choices (orange and green and purple all in one shirt! For $1.99!?! I’ll buy 2!). My cabinets are full of impulse purchases (who wouldn’t want to try caramel apple flavored….cereal). And my office is full of things that really need to go in the circular filing cabinet (though that persuasive piece I wrote on why white shoes should be worn after Labor Day my freshman year is pretty awesome).

It really is brilliant because if you don’t have a good excuse to do it, it’s so not going to get done. So since I lack the motivation…it is so not getting done.

But last night a wave of inspiration…hormones…insanity struck me and I thought-you know, I SHOULD clean some of the dreck. I should clean out drawers and cabinets and wouldn’t it be so great if I could remember what the color of the small bedroom carpet was?


So I thought I would give it a go and began by working on cleaning out the pantry in the kitchen. Four small shelves loaded with a variety of cans and pastas and rice. But I got to the can shelf and had a breakdown. I was good on the soup layer but then I didn’t know what to do with the beans-should they go with canned vegetables? Well no, they are the “musical fruit,” there is a whole song about it. So they went by the mandarin oranges and cranberries. Then I didn’t know how to store the open candy. Should I put it on a high shelf so my daughter couldn’t reach it or a low shelf so I wouldn’t bother trying to?

You can begin to understand why it took me 2 hours. Two hours to do one small pantry.

I emerged sweaty and beaten. My eyes brimming with tears from the stray kernels of rice that wedged themselves under my nails. But the pantry was clean, neat and organized. It was oddly cathartic. I could almost understand why my mom doesn’t mind going nuts looking for crumbs in her shoe organizer. But did I go upstairs and start working on my crammed full of cheap lingerie nightstand? Hell to the no.

I am blessed for so many reasons. I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter, a lovely house and a Mommy that I think the sun rises and sets on. I realize that she takes on the insanity of Pesach so I don’t have to. And I know she would be oh so hurt if I chose to ignore her generous gift to promote my own insanity. So Mommy, I love you. I will gladly accept this gift of Pesach NonCrazy which you have bestowed upon me. Because heaven knows if Pesach preparations were left up to me we would so just move into the backyard for the week.