Another Shpitzle in the Crowd

As I sit here with one baby in my arm, one in my stomach, and many others running through my mind, I can't believe I am writing a blog. I never thought my limited english education would be used for this. The other day I asked my husband how you could say the word "blog" in Yiddish. At hearing this apparently absurd question, he suddenly looked over at me and nervously laughed it off.

What am I hoping to get out of this? I don't know. Maybe I'm just looking to talk to grown people, instead of talking to kinderlach all day. A few years ago a goyishe woman approached me on Lee Avenue and confessed that she was sooo interested to learn about "ultra orthodox jewish life" (what does that even mean and why does everyone call it that?) and that she was fascinated by what she saw every day as a cashier in the shtetl Williamsburg Brooklyn. Maybe I'm also looking to answer her questions, which I couldn't do at the time. She was looking to be my friend, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't risk being seen running around town with this woman on my arm. What would it do to my shidduch chances? What would people think? Even worse: What would people say?

So in some ways this blog is dedicated to her. I do hope by fate someday she finds this blog or even finds me again on the street. Though she will probably not recognize me without my long brown hair. So here is my blog where I don't have to worry about what anyone thinks or says. Take it or leave it. Though I hope you will take it and stay around for the laughs, the crys, and the various observations to be made on this "ultra orthodox" life.