Tag Archives: husband

Is That a Soul Mate In Your Pocket or are you Just Happy To See Me?

31 Aug

I totally disagree with the notion that your soul mate in life has to be your spouse.

I will say that I have been lucky enough to experience the lovey-dovey side of the concept.

The feeling that your romantic partner is, in fact, your soul mate, is truly the pinnacle of ultimate happiness. There is no better feeling than lying in the grass with someone and being certain that you have found the person who makes you feel whole.

No matter how short lived, everyone should be able to feel at least once in life that their boyfriend/fiancee’/husband can be a best friend, lover and inspiration to them, all at once.

I also have to say, that I have had far more experiences with women, friends, where I feel like they are my soul mates, much more than I have men.

I have crossed paths with women time and time again where I feel like they just “get” me. Somehow, we are on the same wavelength, the same page. These type of friends can sense what you need before you tell them. Even though they might be from a farm in Nebraska and you are from a Beverly Hills estate, it still feels as if you have walked the same path.

I’ve also figured out that the people who go around announcing that they are your best friend/soul mate/other half, usually aren’t.

It’s the people who give you that quick glance and nod, when they know you need it the most. The people who remember that today was a big day for you and call just to check-in. Those people who aren’t keeping score, they do for you because they want to. The women who share their stories of Postpartum Depression, Miscarriage, and loss with you, even though you just met them at The Park.

Knowing that there are people out there roaming the world who I have an innate connection with is comforting. Believing that there isn’t just one true soul mate for me, but instead, quite a few, makes me feel less isolated.

The human experience doesn’t have to be as lonely as we make it. Try looking around, chances are there is a person right near you that understands you more than you might think they do.



Real Men Eat Quiche

11 Jan

Quiche. My husband requested quiche for dinner tonight. I have been consistently cooking family dinners for four days. Apparently, that means I am capable of creating sophisticated French cuisine without giving anyone salmonella. I appreciate that my husband has such faith in me. He always seems to think I am way more capable than I actually am. It’s either that or his thinking is slightly distorted from living with me and our kids all these years.
After many Internet searches and wonderful advice and recipes , I have some awesome FB friends. Who knew that you could buy a pie crust already made?!
I made an executive (mom/chef/slave) decision that I am not making quiche tonight.
I believe that I can do it. I don’t think it’s that tricky or hard. I swear its not that I’m intimidated by eggs, pie crust or the French. The truth is that I am tired. I have to go to the supermarket and I still have a kid to pick up at school, while the other two nap. I really want to spend the afternoon at the park with my 3 kids and not be fried by the time my husband gets home for dinner.
So, tonight he will get his quiche, just not made by me. Whole Foods will be providing our family with a cooked rotisserie chicken, a cooked quiche and a spinach salad.
It doesn’t mean I’m quitting my home cooking mission, it just means that it’s okay to take a break.



Denial and Avoidance, Works For Me!

23 May

I think surviving Motherhood takes a certain amount of denial and avoidance. Last night was a prime example of how I deny and avoid when it comes to my children. My friend M.O. was over visiting the kids and I when she looked at TR’s foot and said, “What is up with the bottom T’s foot?” I looked at her foot and lo and behold she had what appeared to be multiple thorns and or splinters of some kind in her tiny little mini foot. What was my reaction? Did I say let’s get her to a Doctor immediately, let’s call my husband for back-up, let’s help this poor child?! My first reaction was, “She’ll be fine I’m sure it’s just another ouchie, ok, bath time!” My friend M.O. who doesn’t have any children of her own yet had to look me in the eyes and give me a What The F—  look and straight up said to me, “Your two year old has a foreign object in her skin it’s going to get infected if you don’t do something right now.” Yup, another mother of the year moment for Leslie. All I was thinking was these kids need to finish dinner, get a bath, get in their pajamas, drink their milk, brush their teeth, read stories, and be put down. I didn’t have time tonight for a strange object lodged in my baby’s foot that could become a festering wound.

Within 20 minutes M.O.’s Dad, the Mitzvah Man himself, Dr. Orwasher, a well known Beverly Hills Podiatrist, was knocking at my front door to inspect TR’s foot. My girl promptly sat down right in front of Dr. Orwasher before he could even make it all the way in the front door, ripped off her socks and said to him, OUCHIE. After a quick exam in my playroom it was confirmed that we had to head into the office so Dr. O could remove whatever was in T.R’s foot. At this point I had a flashback of  the day before- I saw her coming from the backyard barefoot, where we have thorns, wood chips and other dreadful things which coincidentally is all being removed this week. I immediately put her shoes back on when I saw her bare feet, but I didn’t check to see if her feet were okay. So here we were at 7pm sitting in Dr.O’s office distracting TR with my IPhone while the Doc worked his magic with a smile on his face and the patience of a Saint. She didn’t cry, not even a peep, all she said after 20 minutes of sitting nicely while having needles poked into her foot was, “All done Missa’s Daddy?”

If left up to me, she would have been sleeping in her crib with thorns in her feet and probably limping before I noticed anything was remotely wrong. Denial and avoidance, it gets me through because some of this parenting stuff is just way too scary to face head on.


Should my Mother of The Year Award be revoked? I dare you to comment and say yes…


Chef Boyardee Got Nothin’ On Me

17 May

I don’t cook. It’s not that I can’t cook, I just don’t. It doesn’t come naturally to me to just dash into the market pick up my ingredients come home and whip up a meal. It actually feels quite the opposite to me, foreign, yup cooking feels foreign. I see people in the supermarket with their shopping lists and little bags of vegetables and spices and uncooked meats, I know it can’t be that hard if everyone’s doing it. I guess it’s just not part of my routine and I’m a little frightened of new things. I am also a closet vegetarian and have some sensory issues with food. What does that mean? It means I hate touching chicken/meat/fish of any kind and I feel very guilty when I eat it. The sensory issues, let’s just say, if it’s too mushy, smells weird or just strikes me the wrong way, I ain’t eating it. Those of you who know my oldest daughter HB, are starting to understand where her food “pickyness” comes from right about now.
At this point you must be wondering what it is this family eats if the Mother doesn’t cook? Let’s see, we have Chipotle night, we have Whole Foods chicken night, Trader Joe’s night, Pasta night and Auntie Stacey cooks night. I’ve gotten away with it this long because my husband doesn’t make it home in time for Dinner and my kids are young enough that they don’t really sit down for a big formal meal. Every time I decide that today is the big day to cook dinner, I find myself overwhelmed by the rules and limitations I have. The meal has to be organic, healthy, pork free, easy to make and kid friendly. Next thing I know I’m ling in the fetal position in front of the oven.
All of this being said, I feel the time has come for me to step up to the plate, literally. Not because it’s my duty or listed in my marriage contract, but because I know that it’s healthier and I want my kids to feel at home in the kitchen.
So, I’ve decided that starting on Monday ( I need a few days to get ready) I am going to start operation HCM, Home Cooked Meal. I’m going to figure out what the family will be eating for the entire week and get everything I need to make it happen on Sunday. My starting goal is to cook at least three meals the first week. I plan on conducting interviews at Roxbury Park tomorrow asking other Mom’s what they cook that their kids actually eat. I’m hoping to slowly ease into my apron and before I know it I will be the Rachel Ray of the Westside, hopefully without having to touch any raw meat in the process…

Legally blind with a cherry on top

24 Apr

Every night I take out my contact lenses and put on my glasses before bed. No big deal right? Well, for me this is a huge step that has taken years to take. I am legally blind and have been wearing contacts since I was 12 years old. Most people don’t even realize I need glasses because they have never seen me wear a pair. Until recently, my husband had only seen me wear my glasses a handful of times.

Yesterday, as I lay asleep, my sweet, thoughtful, doll of a husband moved my glasses from my bedside table to an undisclosed location. He wanted to make sure one of the kids didn’t destroy them when they came running in to say good morning to me. They tend to mangle any pair of glasses they can get their little hands on. All of a sudden all 3 children were delivered to my room and sweet, sweet, oh-so-sweet husband had to take an urgent phone call. No big deal, all the kids running around like lunatics in my room full of laptops, wires, cups with liquids, open toilet… no big deal. I immediately reach over for my glasses, and nothing! My worst nightmare coming true: alone with all the kids in a non baby-proofed room and I can’t see a thing. Take that back, I could see little blurs racing around the room and heading in all different directions. What happened next I’m only going to tell you because you’re my friends. I called HB over and got nose to nose with her, and said, “This is very important, Mommy is blind, we MUST find my glasses. If you find them I will give you ice cream for breakfast.” Within 3 minutes I had my glasses on my face and HB wondering if she got a topping on her ice cream.

The temporary blindness only lasted about five minutes but it felt like an hour. When Mr. Busy returned from his call, I reminded him that he had moved my glasses and then left me with all the kids in the one room that’s not toddler safe. His response: “Oh, shit. That must have been hilarious!”

Tonight, I am sleeping with my contacts in.


Ever bribe your kids in order to survive an emergency?

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