Tag Archives: jewish mom

Jewish Mom Gone Mild – Ahem – Wild \ I’m a Jewish Mom What’s Your Excuse

This post is from my favorite new blog:  I’m a Jewish Mom, What’s Your Excuse?   It’s a blog about GUILT, ANXIETY, MISCONCEPTION, AGING, SEX, SARCASM, SALES, SHOPPING and OTHER SHIT.

You do not have to be Jewish to read it, thought there is a reader test.  You only have to have a good sense of humor and not be anti-Semitic.  I will be a big part of this blog along with other hilarious Jewish mamas that will make you feel saner with every passing post.  Check it out.

That's me in the red bag. Well, it represents me. I'm being anonymous. I know, it's mysterious right? Is it attractive? They say mysterious is attractive. How about appealing? You kinda love me huh? I guess the other person in the bag represents my husband, though in reality he doesn't tower over me like Kris did to Kim. Sure, another reason for their inevitable demise. A good rule of thumb: When it looks like your husband might eat you, it's time to get out. (Or carry a lot of saltines.) Please, every Jewish woman knows that a two pack of saltines can get you through to your next meal. There will be other awesome tips like that to come so seriously, stay tuned.

‘This is my alter-ego.  The me who says it all with no holds barred.  I’m so not telling you who I am… or at least until this thing takes off, but let’s just say I’m Uber famous.

Yeah, let’s say that.

I mean why not.

Of course with all my wealth I can’t afford a computer that puts the two dots over the U in uber, which by the way are called umlaut-dots.  I know this because I am also uber smart and know how to search things on Google.  But you know what, those umlauts can go f@ck themselves.  Oh yeah, I said that, and I cuss too. Kinda…

They weren't so chipper when I told them to F@ck Off

Yep, like a truck driver.

Without provocation.

When it doesn’t even fit the story.

Gratuitously… Like Halle Berry nude scene in “Swordfish” or Paris Hilton in sex scene in her texting video, I mean sex tape.

See, I would never tell umlauts to f@ck themselves in real life for fear that one might beat me up or worse, not like me.  But anonymous alter egos can do lots of shady shit.

For instance:  You know Superman was some kind of deviant exhibitionist?  He lived in a house made of ice for G-d’s sake.  I’m sure Lois didn’t even know about his kinky side. Please, the man could put on glasses and she wouldn’t recognize him, imagine how easily she’d be to fool by a cock-ring?

I can’t believe I just used the word cock, which let me tell you, does not fall trippingly off my tongue in my day to day life.

Sorry, I have to take a sec and point out that the last line was meant to be a  Shakespeare reference that ended up sounding shockingly dirty and was so not my intention there. Look, I’m gonna let you know when I’m being crass on purpose or not.  That’s my promise to you, the reader. 

Being that I get to completely reinvent myself here.  I’m going to call myself Lady Gaga.  No wait, that’s totally taken, okay, how about

Madonna? Pink? Li Lo? Fire Crotch?

Ugh, all the good names are taken.

I’ll just go with Cher, that’s original.

For my husband I’m thinking Thor, no wait, Thor doesn’t quite fit.

Dion?  No that’s too “Clueless.”

How about something more Jewish, like Abraham?  No, that’s too jewish, ok Adam Sandler, Seth Rogan, Jason Segal, Jon Stewart? All taken?

Maybe we should go back to the one name kinda names?  Ummm, let’s see, Barney? Elvis? Fabio? Jesus? O.J.? Prince? Q-Tip? Shaq? Waldo? Noah?

Yes, perfect.  You know, Noah… from the ark?  Great, a one name Jewish moniker. Lovely.

Noah and Cher. We will have a Boy and a Girl and a dog and a cat.  Names to come.  That was exhausting enough. But if you have suggestions please leave them in my box.

Hello, my comment box.  Sheesh, you people are already out of hand and the balls are barely rolling.


*By the way, you don’t have to be Jewish to read the blog, though I prefer you not be anti-Semitic.  I know, that was exclusionary of me, but it still stands.


Cher the Jewish Motha’”

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Can’t a Nice Jewish Girl Sit on Santa’s Lap Without Being a Ho Ho Ho?

girl-santaIt’s that time of year again… Time for that timeless Jewish tale that should be read the night before Christmas after eating Chinese and watching whatever movie your kids talk you into.

How many of you will be sleeping through this flick this weekend?

I’m not gonna throw myself under the bus and call my children spoiled, as I would have only myself to blame.  I will say, however, they have an extreme sense of entitlement, which I am sure has little to do with them being lavished with gifts undeservedly.

My children want everything they see, hear about, could get as a party favor, could find in a McDonalds happy meal, a cereal box, a piñata, or view in a commercial.

“Mommy can I have that? Will you buy me that?  Mommy my friends neighbor has that.  I want that.  When can I have that? Mommy? Ma? Maaaaaaaa?  MOM!  This exchange of words usually ends with, “If you mention it again, the answer will be never.”  “Never?  I can’t even have a Fijit my beat friend when I’m 25?”  “Sure.  If you still want a Fijit my best friend at 25, you being it with you to therapy.”

“How about I get it for my next birthday, or maybe Kwanzaa?”  My son is already eyeing a camouflage pencil set for Secretaries Day, and has informed me that, although we are Jewish, he will be giving up vegetables for Lent.

My childrens’ Hanukkah wish lists are so comprehensive, I may be forced to explore alternative channels in my gift search.  Consequently, I have sent a friendly letter asking someone who has slighted me in the past for help.  Some might say it’s more of a formal accusation, but really it’s just a hand delivered note that needs to be notarized and signed on receipt. It goes:

Dear Santa,
I have never complained about you forgetting us Jews in the past, but times are tough.  I mean, I don’t want to threaten you or anything, but let’s talk religious profiling, shall we?

I’m sure the fact that we don’t believe in you has something to do with you snubbing us year after year.  Do we, a people known to produce a whiner or two, complain?  No, some of us, me included, have made an effort to believe.

Let us not forget Christmas of 83’ when I sat on your lap asking for a Speak N’ Spell, a Magic Eight Ball, and Shawn Cassidy’s “Da Doo Ron Ron” 45.  I have a laminated picture from Macy’s to prove it.

Do you not bombard us with your festive songs and holiday movies made with delightfully animated reindeer and elves?  Do Jews get to go a-wassailing?  No, we have one song… about kids gambling.

Has Dreidel ever starred in a delightfully animated holiday movie?  Even the Rugrats sold out, ahem, converted.

What, Hollywood talk you into losing your religion?


Has Snoopy, or Barbie, or a single Disney character ever lit a Menorah?  Maybe in the privacy of their own homes, but certainly never on camera (it’s in their contracts.)

We’re okay with that, because we wrote those contracts.

Sure, we take advantage of your sales and vacations.  We watch your shows, and sing your catchy songs.  We’ll decorate a tree with blue and white twinkle lights, top it with a six pointed star, and call it a Hanukkah bush.

Santa, my Roth IRA is down 40%.  I deserve a little holiday cheer.   You can look me up, I’ve been nice, and I’d like to keep it that way.

My daughter wishes to receive more of those squeaky –and possibly poisonous– Zhu Zhu pets.   She would also like the newest Bratz Doll, which comes complete with Brazilian waxing kit and requisite diaphragm.

My son “just has to have” Ubisoft’s Rocksmith “I Choked on My Own Vomit Tour,” the iPhone 4s that he thinks will answer any question, including where he left his last cell phone. Oh, and some alone time with my daughter’s Bratz doll.

I will forward you the unabridged version via zip file. I look forward to us all getting along!

Frustrated Jewish Mom

P.S.  I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot here.  I didn’t mean to sound so hostile.  Santa, just tell me what a girl’s gotta do to get some Christian love?   I can be naughty if necessary (wink, wink).

Want more Holiday Humor?  Check out Little Things That Make me Wanna Convert and of course, please share this tale as a holiday treat

Plus, don’t forget to sign up for the Suburban Jungle feed or email to get weekly humorous relatable pieces!

DON’T Analyze This

Counseling Addiction –  Those were the words in the title of an email I just received.  I didn’t read on, I didn’t have to.  I get the gist and I’m shocked.

It’s never dawned on me that this would be an issue, but why the f@ck not?  I mean, tons of people love counseling – I’m one of them.  Though I haven’t found the time to go recently, which means I’m probably not an addict, per se.

But, I do get it.

In fact, as a double major – one of them being psychology – I found that many people in my classes were taking these courses in hopes of fixing themselves.

Well, we know that never works.  If it did, no one would say, “you should take your own advice,” in that snarky way that they do.

Needless to say, I spent much time in college and Grad school with people who were anxiety stricken, or OCD (like myself) or narcissists, or bipolar, or… had other fun complexes.  Then they become practicing therapists and now spend a lot of time telling other people what to do and what’s wrong with them.

How rude.

If you went around dissecting my psyche and telling me how to fix it, I would not make plans with you… often.  But, we pay for therapists to tell us such things.  Then we respond with phrases like:  “Yessss, that’s why I’m so controlling” and “oh my G-d you’re so right, I do substitute food for love,” and “sure, sure my passive aggressive behavior is obviously an outlet for my suppressed emotional responses,” and other shit we say in therapists offices in hopes of feeling less inferior.

But, now that there’s a new disorder coming from over-therapizing, I say we get off the proverbial couch and take a stand.  I mean people don’t get paid to tell you things that may happen to you in the future, do they?  Of course not.  So, why should we pay people to label us now?

Frankly, I think we’re all doing pretty good, considering…   The O-Zone is disintegrating, American’s throw away 250 million tons of trash/year, the unemployment rate is 8.6%, we’re all getting older and wrinklier and less bendy by the second, and the shoes in my closet never seem to be perfectly straight!

So, “Say Nay to Thera-pay!”  I know, catchy right?  I’m like the Norma Rae of head shrinking.  Screw Jung and Freud and Adler, who needs ’em and their theories?  The 54 million American’s who suffer from mental illness in a given year?  Nah.

Addendum to this post:  I just clicked the email with the Title: Counseling Addiction  The subject line said this:  Help fight substance abuse as a counselor.

Never mind.