Why?

Why do I have to put on pants?

Why can’t I eat popcorn for breakfast?

Why is it called a “caller”?

Why are you singing with them?

Why do I have to put socks on?

Why can’t I wear these slippers to story time?

Why are there germs?

Why do I have to be gentle with Joey's head?

Why are you drying that off?

Why can’t bring my toys to the library?

Why do birds chirp?

Why is there water in both of Charlotte’s bowls?

Why is it called pottery?

Why is it made out of clay?

Why are things blue?

Why can’t we buy something today?

Why don’t you have any money?

Why do you keep throwing those on the ground?

Why don’t you know?

Roots, Wings and the Power of the Internet

As I mentioned in my last posting,  I began “Facebooking” this summer.  This enormous network of people not only keeps me connected with friends I am  currently in touch with, but it has also re-opened doors to my past.  Doors that I thought were shut and bolted forever. 

Just recently, class pictures from my now defunct grammar school were posted.  Not only did the pictures bring back memories of polyester plaid uniforms, but it sparked a stream of conversation among the twelve (give or take a few) of us that made up my class.  

This resurrection of pictures, memories and friendships that were forged so long ago is overwhelming reminder of  both my childhood and how much I have grown.  But what I found most interesting is that, in hindsight, I don’t think that any of us would say they were the best times of our lives, certainly not us girls, but here we are twenty (I can’t believe it) years later, and we all began to relish in this experience in which we are all rooted, posting comments of memories for better or for worse. 

Although I spread my wings, fled New Jersey at eighteen, am quick to try to disguise my Jersey accent living and teaching in New England, and much to my mother’s disappointment have also somewhat abandoned my Catholic upbringing, I always find a way to let people know that I am, in fact, from Jersey and went to Catholic school.  

 

Getting Started

I have a habit of taking up hobbies, really just so I can say that I did it.  Often these great bursts of inspiration come after I have had a glass of wine.  However, it is 9:30am, and although my mother always says, “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.”  I have a feeling that it is even a little early for her to justify drinking.  But I am a newly minted stay-at-home mom, and I needed a new project to keep my mind occupied long term – other than my children of course.  So I began Facebooking, which led me to my friend Emily’s blog.   Combine Cabernet with Emily’s fierce creativity, and  the little conversations in my head, and here I am with a blog of my own.

What’s in a Name?  This blogging process started over a week ago, but I managed to procrastinate the start because I didn’t have a name.  Enter my dear friend, Dr. G, a truly clever and inventive individual.  His first suggestion was “Not So K.Rabby.”  Which I of course thought was…clever and inventive.  When mentioning it to my husband, he pursed his lips breathed deeply through his nose and “mmmmmed”.  Never a good sign.  My response was, “You don’t think it is a good name because I am crabby.”  Silence.   I consulted yet again with the doctor, who consulted with his people and here we are with “K_Rabs Blabs”  Catchy.

 I must give credit where credit it due, first to my husband for requesting that I take his last name, Rabinowitz, upon marrying him, a pat on the back for myself shorting that name for my teaching career to Mrs. Rabs, thus enabling all post-marriage friends to call me K. Rabs.  A big thanks to Dr. G for being…clever and inventive and his people for rhyming.  And last, but certainly not least to Emily, without whom, none of this would have happened.  

Enjoy.