I am not Zen

Last week I was totally Zen. I had my first "non-camp" week under control. There were swimming lessons, playdates, Starbucks trips...children were relatively well-behaved, I felt like a Good Mother. Today I am not Zen. In fact, I believe I may actually be Nez. I know this because I was reading an article in a parent magazine (you know the one with the beatific toddler in a spotless frock not screaming just like in real life), by a mom who is a Buddhist and spent years living in a whatchmacallit place where Buddhists live. I read the article very carefully. Anyway, she told us all about how we can apply Buddhist practices to our parenting. I am sure I am breaking like 12 Jewish laws just by talking about this (sorry!)

Anyhoo, the only two I remember (I told you I read it carefully), were "don't leave a footprint, i.e., don't accumulate lots of stuff" and "breathe." I thought of the first one today when I was at Children's Place with Zsa Zsa, Eva and Stalin. They needed a skirt and a pair of pants between the three of them. So, therefore, we left with two pairs of pajamas, a backpack, three sparkly notebooks (yes one was for me), a birthday present, two pairs of flip-flops (Zsa Zsa and Ava have yet to master walking in flip-flops, like, ever but they were only $3 and so cute, squeal), knee socks x 2 and I am too ashamed to go on.

After a few more errands and $300,000 later (gas is expensive, yo), we arrived home in time for lunch. Since Perfect eldest son (Pes) was at camp, Stalin wandered around depressedly for the entire afternoon throwing balls which nobody caught and hurling verbal abuse at me. And they all fought with each other. A lot. And Ava likes to tattle. A lot. And I yelled, a lot. And I wondered why my swimming teacher never called or emailed me back about lessons this week. Ha.

Now I am going to breathe. For the first time today.