Lately.

There have been so many things I wanted to write about but I really haven't had much energy left over after trying to live my life this last month to write about it. So, here's a quick update:

A month ago I started a new job, 

so Itzik and I decided that it was time to start looking for a new place to live.

Both of these things sound exciting, but turned out to be real trials for our relationship.

The bad news is that it caused so many arguments I wasn't sure we'd make it to a new place.

The good news is that we found a place, and moved this weekend.

We made it.

Beach Season

Maggy and Kurt came to Tel Aviv to celebrate their anniversary a couple of weeks ago, 

and we spent an afternoon on the beach together. 

Their visit coincided with a 'heat wave' which marked the beginning of summer (it was 90 degrees all week), and it felt so good to swim in the sea and relax in the hot sun (...under an umbrella with lots of SPF). 

Summer here makes me feel simultaneously excited and terrified. The weather now is so beautiful- 85 during the day, 70 at night) but come June/July/August it will be too hot to function. It's almost like winter, in that you don't leave the comfort of temperature controlled indoors unless you are going from A to B...or to the beach. In any case...I'm bathing in sunscreen these days.

Moving

Balagan.

It's no secret that moving is one of the most stressful life events there is.

Add to that the language barrier (not being able to read online apt postings, needing a translator at the bank, feeling generally useless and making your partner feel totally burdened...) 

well...you can imagine how fun the process has been. 

Itzik has been incredible, and done so much work to find a new home for us.

I've done as much as possible, and tried to be patient and understanding when he felt (understandably) overwhelmed.

Now that I'm not living there anymore, I can say openly how wretched our old place was.

It was Itzik's bachelor pad, and I felt like I was squatting there for the last 8 months.

The landlord was a jerk, the plumbing backed up into our bathroom, there were bugs, loud neighbors, zero storage, less space, one window, and was far from where we both work and play. 

We had no elbow room, felt claustrophobic, and it was not good for either of us as individuals or a couple.

But now we have a much bigger place, in the middle of Tel Aviv, with a real kitchen, a huge living room, big windows, and landlords who are friends of Itzik's family.  And I can walk to work in less than 15 minutes.

I really feel like this is the beginning of a new phase for us.

I'll post pictures after we've really unpacked...

This is the first time I ever had movers (cause I never had much furniture before...)

and it was the best ever. These two dudes came in at 6:30am on Friday (Itzik and I pulled an all-nighter on Thursday after work) and in less than two hours had moved ALL of our stuff out of the old place, onto a truck, and into the new place. Amazing. 

They did the heavy lifting, and I was still exhausted, but my back wasn't destroyed and it was so quick!

These guys were amazing, but truly, that must be the worst job ever.

To celebrate the move we went out for dinner on Friday night.

We happen to live a block from the only Pizza Hut in Tel Aviv, and I could not have been happier.

We stuffed ourselves and fell asleep fat and happy amidst a pile of boxes...a perfect shabbat.

Why is there so much shit?

(I apologize in advance to the more delicate readers out there (Mom) for the crass language and subject matter of the forthcoming post...

but not unlike poop, sometimes you just have to let the words out.)

Sometimes I find horse manure on the sidewalks because this happens in my neighborhood frequently.

There is a lot of shit in my life at the moment. 

I suppose, when I read that back to myself, that I mean it figuratively, but what prompted this post is all of the literal, physical, smelly shit that I find at every turn. 

I guess the breaking point for me was when I found actual human feces on my doorstep this weekend....but we'll get back to that.

I just received my visa to work in Israel, so my job these days when I'm not babysitting is finding a job.  

As I'm sure many of you can relate to, this is not easy. Anywhere. And babysitting is a hard job, it can be exhausting. I love it, and there are new rewards all the time. But there's also a lot of shit. Ellie is the cutest little baby, but she is quickly become a little girl...and let me tell you, her "cacki" (as its referred to here) is smelling more and more adult by the day. I'm no novice. I've changed countless diapers. 

But the god's honest truth of the matter is that cacki smells. 

You don't develop a resistance to it, just coping mechanisms. 

WHAT is she eating? The smell is unreal. But look at that face.

I also get sick a lot because of my job, and my immune system took a beating this winter. Kids = germ city. 

Since September I have contracted countless colds (they just bleed into one another), chest colds, strep throat, and last week...the stomach flu. I'll spare you the details, it will suffice to say I felt pretty shitty.

In any case, after the visa hurdle, and the job hurdle, the next obstacle is my shitty apartment. Literally. I found mouse droppings under the sink the other day. And then people droppings on my way out of the building Friday morning. Oh, and did I mention our place smells like poop sometimes because a pipe outside broke and is leaking raw sewage onto a ledge a few floors below our only windows? Yeah.

When it comes to the mice...whatever. I don't like it. But I've come to accept it as an inevitable reality when you live in a city. And, to be honest, I've killed more cockroaches in the last year than I ever saw in my first 27 years so, I guess at some point you just develop...again, coping mechanisms. 

But even the best coping skills are stretched thin when you find human poop on your doorstep.

I love the kids and families I babysit for, 

but no one has ever been more motivated than yours truly to find a job. 

I just need to clear my life of a little literal shit, so that I can make room for the figurative stuff, cause it's more exciting, and makes for better instagramming...

An afternoon with Ellie.

One of the comments I recieved regarding my last post was:

"More pics of Ellie!"

Your wish is my command.

I haven't blogged much about the families I babysit for- mostly an effort to respect others' privacy- but Ellie's parents get how cute she and her sister are, and totally get that an adoring public cannot be left wanting.

This weekend I found the perfect opportunity to share with you guys a little bit of how I spend my working hours...in a magical land of princesses and babies. Ellie's big sister, Emma, recently turned five (going on seventeen...) and Friday afternoon her parents threw a birthday party for 30 of her closest friends. I hung out with Ellie during the thick of it. We went to the park during prep-time, came home and noshed on the abundant fruit and snacks moving between the kitchen and the party, and (she) took a solid nap.

Let me tell you, once she woke up, Ellie (who worships Emma and won't tolerate missing out on any fun) was NOT pleased to be kept from the festivities for things like naps and snacks. The looks that little angel was shooting my way could kill. So, towards cake-time we finally went up to the roof and joined in the fun.

Popcorn and cotton candy machines. Duh.

If I'm being totally honest, Ellie and I were both happy to go upstairs in the end. 

This party was the princess extravaganza of my childhood dreams. I mean, cotton candy? Stop it. 

And the cake...you'd have been drooling too.

Yeah- I had some.

Just stop. 5-yr-old me was green with envy.

Everyone enjoyed cake while the party wound down, and slowly Ellie cruised her way on over to the cake table after the crowd thinned, and dove right into the chocolate-y princess-y goodness--her mom and I were ready with smartphone in-hand. 

All in all, it was a lovely day at work. My job doesn't suck.