35 posts categorized "Thought for the Day"

Free Chicks


Like, I totally know what you're thinking. You're wondering what in the world kind of necklace I'm wearing. Well, I'm wondering the same thing. It's the midlife crisis, I tell you! I'm turning into a Charedi Gangsta. I'm gonna change my name to R-Kelly. Except kids really used to call me that in Junior High. Or was it High School? I can't remember. It's all a blur. But so is yesterday.

Isn't R-Kelly no longer with us? Don't you love how I said that so PC? I'm working on my tact and sensitivity. Don't want to offend anyone, you know. No one likes offensive chain-wearing, nagging old gangstas in a midlife crisis.

Speaking of crises, say hello to my little friend. He doesn't have a name yet, because I'm totally getting rid of him tomorrow, but in the meantime, I'll call him Lil' Chick. I would prefer to call him Lil' Black Chick, but some people might get offended. I don't know why, because he is black, and he's a chick. I just realized how funny that sounds. He's a chick. Must be a Liberal. If I called myself Big White Chick, would anyone get offended? Probably not anyone besides myself. 

So here's how LBC came into my life. Earlier today, my son called me from school asking me if he could bring home a chick that his Rabbi just gave him. I was like, "You ain't bringin' no chicks into my house, young man." He insisted and didn't back down, because he knows his mama's got a loud and nasty bark, but her bite resembles something like her grandma's dentures sitting in a cup of water overnight. 


I mean, what am I supposed to do with it? I don't live on a farm! A jungle, yes, but not a farm. Where is the chick supposed to walk? Where am I supposed to put him when I'm not home? Should I take him to Zumba with me? Do you think the music will be too loud? What am I supposed to DOOOOOO????

But, wait! I didn't even tell you the worst part. This chick is so smart, he figured out in about two seconds what a friar (sucker) I am. My son made a makeshift cage for him, and he didn't like it, so he started chirping so loud, I could swear he was screaming at me. So I took him out and held him close to me, and in no time he calmed down. So I put him back and whaddayaknow. Crying/screaming again. So I picked him back up.

Yeah, the chick won. I gave up. I ended up doing almost everything one-handed. See that picture up there? That's how I held LBC as I served the kids dinner, yelled at them to change their clothes, brush their teeth, and get in bed. I even broke up a few fights with one hand. When I absolutely had to use two hands, like to deal with the laundry, I put chicky in my lap close to my belly and actually leaned over him a bit, so my stomach would kind of smush him. He loved it so much, he fell asleep! And I got serious lower back pains from that.

I finally got him to go to sleep for the night by wrapping him cozily in a kitchen towel. Oh, I forgot to mention that I washed him the minute they brought him home. 

Do any of you in Israel want him? Any of you have a big backyard and lots of breadcrumbs? 

What's the point of all of this? Well, I have no idea! But here are two things I realized from this bizarre experience:

1) when Hashem wants you to have something, you'll get it, no matter how much you do or don't do to get it*

2) these days, things happen so suddenly, it's a little scary

3) I shouldn't write posts after 10:00 at night

*This doesn't mean that you shouldn't put forth your maximum effort if you want something! No loophole here for you lazy people out there!

So that's that. I hope I can get a decent night's sleep without worrying too much about whether I'll hear Lil' Chicky crying for me to hold him in the middle of the night. Because I just might do that. I would actually bring him to bed with me and cuddle him. I'm crazy like that.


Happy Father's Day!


Ooh, boy, David's gonna be so mad when he sees this. Here is a picture of him enjoying a nice carb-infested beverage at my birthday dinner at the local falafel stand. I think he ordered it just to make me jealous. Well, I showed him. I drank half of it, and then made him take me shoe shopping. 

So I just found out an hour ago that it's Father's Day in the States. I was surprised, because I didn't even realize it was June already, and I totally forgot about the fact that Father's Day exists. So of course I called my mother to wish her a happy father's day.

Why would I call my mother, you ask? Fools! Who made my dad a father? My mom! Duh.

You know, I think I have a pretty decent argument there. Don't women have to suffer through 9 or 10 months of pregnancy, depending on who you're asking? How many months do fathers contribute to the growing baby inside Mommy's tummy? What? None? How dare you say that! Fathers have to put up with nine (or ten) months of complaining, moaning, all-day morning sickness, massage my feet, my back really hurts, midnight cravings for pancakes and ketchup, tossing and turning at night, paying for a new wardrobe every month, etc.

Incidentally, I remember my first pregnancy. I ran to the Motherhood store in the mall after I had stuffed my face so my stomach would look really bloated, so I could buy myself a pair of ugly maternity pants with the super elastic waistband. OMG, speaking of pants, you should read my Sheitel in Blue Jeans. I guarantee you'll crack up at this insanely ridiculous story! 

Double OMG. I just remembered what Rav Brody posted about sheitels, and here I am posting a sheitel article!  

What was the point of this post already? Oh, yeah. To all you awesome dads who do your best to be good fathers to your children, Mazal Tov! Enjoy your day. And to all you awesome moms who feel the need to buy your husbands something because you made them a father, STOP! Didn't you do enough work already? (You know I'm just kidding, right?) 

Enjoy your day!


My Bling Bling

I hope David doesn't read this post. A few days ago, I took the train to Malcha Mall in Jerusalem and couldn't help but buy this gorgeous light blue sapphire ring. What do you think?


Don't worry, I've got it all figured out. When hubby gets the bill, I'm going to act dumb, as if I have no idea where that mysterious 4,000 shekel charge came from. And then, when we get into a huge fight about it, I'm going to pull out the, "What, I'm not worth it?!!" card.

Seriously, don't tell him what I wrote. That goes for you especially, Judah Cohen. I know where you live.

Although my photography skills are still quite lacking due to shaky hands and a cheap phone camera, I think this picture is pretty nice. Do any of you remember that old Jlo song, "Jenny from the Block"? I came up with my own version.

Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got... I just totally lied to you and this ring costs only $11.  

Now that's a Grammy-winning song right there. 

For some reason, I'm not ashamed to admit that I love fake jewelry, especially because it's cheap! In my mind, why should I spend a ton of money just to have something that I can say is real, if I can get something fake that's just as beautiful and 1/100th the cost? 

Men, you're probably like, "So what do I care about your ugly ring?" Well, I'll tell you what. My ring actually carries very deep and esoteric messages, like: "money ain't buy you no happiness," and "mo' money, mo' problems," and "you can still buy nice jewelry for your wife that doesn't have to cost your life's savings." 

Most of the things that we chase in life look like they'll give us real happiness. Money, fancy homes, fancy cars, fancy jewelry - it's all nice, but it's a glittering mirage. It's funny, in a way. The tangible things that we want seem real, but they're not. And the intangible things that we place less importance on are what's real.

Love, joy, peace of mind, fulfilling relationships, a strong and personal  connection with The Creator - these things are what's really important in life. Botttom line? It's great to want nice things in life, just don't make it your life's mission to have nice things. Get outta my way, Confucius. 

And if you still think this ring is real, go and get yourself a free eye exam at Walmart, pronto.

Have a wonderful day!



I'm Baaaack!

Happy new week, dear readers! It's Racheli, and I'm soooooooo thrilled to be back! Seriously, I missed you guys. Really. Did you miss me? Even just a little? No? Well, just pretend like you did, okay? I'm very fragile, you know. 

Speaking of fragile, for that one person that did miss me, (Tena, would that be you?) I'll give you a little quiz so you can figure out on your own where I've been hiding.

Racheli hasn't been on LazerBeams for over two weeks because:

a) she's been lounging on the beach in Eilat

2) she's been treating herself to daily massages and mani/pedi's

%) she's been unable to leave the kitchen for the entire week of Pesach

8) her kids have been home for nearly three weeks, and she almost lost her mind

72) all of the above

Hmmmm. I know. It's a tough choice. Think. Exercise what's left of those precious brain cells. While you're scratching your heads trying to figure it out, I'm scratching my head trying to find something inspirational to say. Since my brain cells are currently recovering from my kids' ridiculously extended vacation, I'll share with you these gorgeous pics that I took right behind my house. Gosh, Israel is so, so beautiful! Maybe one day I'll actually get to see what's beyond my backyard!




Wishing you a wonderful and inspiring week!







I can't believe it! I actually found a caricature of myself! Okay, so it's not entirely accurate. Instead of a tennis racket, I would be holding a free weight, and instead of holding a cute little baby I'd have five wild genetically modified monkey/boy hybrids climbing all over me and fighting. But aside from that, this pic is spot-on. I even wear a crown on my head all day. And I really am that skinny. Almost.

But when I'm mad? Watch out! I look more like this:

Firebreathing dragon

The past few days I've been doing a lot of this cool fire-breathing technique. It's a shame it's not included in the relaxation breathing techniques that I never do, because if it were, I'd be the most chill mom in the world. Fo' rizzle. 

This second pic is exactly how I feel today. I've had it with the stress of cleaning, cleaning some mo', food shopping, turning over my kitchen, covering stuff up, did I miss anything? The kids have only been home on their Pesach break for one day and I'm ready to run away. They made me blow up our little inflatable pool, and that meant lots of extra laundry. LOTS. Not cool. Then, one of my kids threw a tantrum and absolutely refused to get his hair cut because he wasn't first. And then a whole bunch of other stuff.

As they say, Baruch Hashem! It could be a whole 'lot worse.

Next week, we'll re-experience our liberation from slavery. I can't wait! I love getting drunk and then having to do the dishes and put the kids to bed after slaving away the entire day. 

These past few weeks and the grand finale that we (WOMEN) have been slaving away towards is almost here. And therefore, I'd like to give a shout-out to all of the awesome MOMS that do it all, and then some. So I had this crazy cool chiddush about the word MOM. If you turn it upside-down, it says WOW.  

Like, totally cool! Here, I'll use it in a sentence: WOW, I can't believe how much MOM accomplishes every day! 

Is it really a chiddush? I'm sure someone else thought of it first, but since I didn't know about it, I'll happily take full credit for it. 

Yes, you Dads are awesome too. But I couldn't include you in the WOW, because that wouldn't make any sense. After all, DAD upside-down is nothing. But if you put it in lowercase, like dad, then you'll get pap. Which is also dad, albeit quite a stretch. Pap, pappy, pop, whatever. 

Anyhow, I'd just like to say on behalf of Hashem that He's super proud of all of our efforts. It's truly unbelievable how many things we have on our plates at the same time, and we still do as much as we can to live according to the Torah as best as we can. Kol Hakavod! Hashem loves you, babe.

Wishing you a happy, low-stress, buzzed but not sick drunk, enjoyable, and delicious Yetzias Mitzrayim




Okay, the strangest thing just happened. I had a completely different idea for this post, but that can wait until I tell you what happened. First of all, shavua tov! I hope you all enjoyed a leisurely Shabbat, whatever that means. Now I'll get to my crazy story.

I didn't have any clue as to what I should post, so I decided to look through the pics on my phone to see if anything interesting came up. All in all, I was sitting at my computer for about an hour, going through emails and whatever. So I'm scrolling through my pics and this one of a T-shirt popped up. I took it a couple of weeks ago when I managed to get out of Bet Shemesh and reach civilization, i.e., a big city. I was at the Azrieli mall in Tel Aviv and saw this shirt hanging there, which I found so funny because I'm from Miami Beach, and aside from the fact that it really does look like Paradise, it also looks a lot like Tel Aviv these days, so I don't understand what all the hype is about. Actually, Tel Aviv and Miami are too similar in too many ways, if you get my drift.

Anyhow, as I'm downloading this picture onto my computer, I'm trying to tune out David's guitar playing that's grating at my ears from the living room. He was also playing for the same amount of time that I was on my computer. Then, as this picture is uploading, I hear him suddenly start to sing some lyrics from a song back in the '80's, about Paradise. I couldn't believe my ears!

I called him over, wondering if he had seen my email of the picture to myself, because he also gets my emails on his phone. Talk about nosy! And then I remembered that I didn't put anything in the subject line, so there was no way for him to know what I was sending myself. So in the exact same minute, he's singing about Paradise as I'm downloading it onto my computer!

Is that not totally crazy?

It's funny when these things happen, isn't it? We may think that things like this are random, but they're not. Hashem is always working behind the scenes, pulling the invisible strings in our heads. When you're thinking of someone and they suddenly call you, it's not random. It's Hashem.

Now I totally forgot my original point. Give me a minute.... Oh, yeah. So Paradise is not a place. It's a state of mind. 

I know it's hard to believe for those of us that aren't multimillionaires, but you can have everything and be miserable. 

If you are truly happy with your life, then you are living in Paradise.

Why did I keep writing Paradise with a capital P? 

Blessings for a wonderful week!


Oops! I Did it Again


Last night, as I was putting my kids to sleep, I was overcome with the urge to clean out my husband's shelf in our tiny closet. Now I'm sorry I didn't take a picture of the shelf before I cleaned it, because it was a total disaster. Plastic bags were piling up on top of each other, loose change was laying around, and all kinds of wires and G-d knows what were clogging up my shelf. Since my little boyfriend decided he was going to sleep in my bed last night, I did my best to persuade him otherwise by leaving the light on and cleaning the closet without attacking him with kisses. 

Finally, he decided to go sleep in his own bed, and I decided that half of the junk needed to go. So I threw it away. Fast forward a few hours. David came home and wanted to eat dinner. Since Thursdays have turned into my "fast food" night, (OMG!) I showed him the vegan kebabs that I had so expertly warmed up in the oven. He wanted to see the nutrition info on the bag, and I pointed to the garbage can. "How am I supposed to eat it if I don't know how many calories are in it?" he asked. "Why are you so concerned, Mr. Universe?" I told him. "It's not like you're gonna see a difference one way or another!" Ouch. Why do I write this stuff?

So we argued about it for a while, and finally he decided he was going to go through the garbage and look for the bag. I couldn't believe it. As he was making his way down the pile, he noticed a bag of stuff that looked familiar and pulled it out. 

Uh, oh. 

He took it to the counter and opened it up. I tried to ignore what he was doing, but soon enough he called me over. "What is this?! Why do you keep throwing my stuff away???!" He was sooooo mad as he pulled out his brand new eyeglass case and held it up in front of me. "What?" I asked, all innocent-looking. "I never saw that eyeglass case before!" "That's because I just bought it!" Like, oops. "Well, that's what you get for being such a slob!" I snapped at him. And then we enjoyed a nice romantic glass of red wine together.

I thought I would write about this because Pesach is less than a month away, and that means that suddenly everyone goes into hyper-cleaning mode. Since I'm always in hyper-cleaning mode, I felt that I should kick it up a notch and go into hyper-throwing-out mode - you know, in honor of Pesach. 

So what's my point? I've realized that cleaning for Pesach is similar to personal prayer. If you do it all year long, you don't get unexpected surprises popping up in your life , or in your garbage. Wait. That doesn't even make any sense. Isn't every surprise unexpected? I mean, if it was expected, how could it be a surprise? 

Gosh, I'm so profound.

Personal prayer, especially a daily self-assessment, is like Pesach cleaning all year long. There is no way you can remember what you did wrong or right like, nine months after you did it. I can't even remember what I did five minutes ago. So how can you do teshuva for something that you don't remember doing? And if you didn't do teshuva for it, then by default you've created judgments for yourself. It's sad, but true.

Every day we have an opportunity to spend a few minutes in self-introspection, so we can clearly see what we need to work on. If we don't try to improve ourselves, our negative character traits could end up in the garbage, right next to my husband's eyeglass case. And wouldn't that be a shame?

On that note, have a happy, healthy, and restful Shabbat!