Tough Exterior, Hearts of Gold

It gets me everytime. These hard boiled Israeli people- said in the nicest possible way of course- just melt at the slightest emotion.

They live through wars, send their children to be soldiers, work hard, pray hard, learn hard- life in Israel is hard. After all, it's a Gemara- Israel was given with trials and tribulations.

But when the guard makes silly faces at my 2 year old, or the mother on the bus carrying her packages home from Machane Yehuda Shuk helps another young mother wrap up her newborn, or even when the post office lady doesn't yell at me today because I have my toddler with me- I just melt.

This is such a special country. Tough exteriors, hearts of gold. No wonder this city is called Jerusalem of Gold. It reflects their souls.

Parenting Perspective

Okay, I admit it. My husband says I'm part of a cult. And sometimes I agree.

How so? Well, I'm a bit of a [says in quiet undertone voice] attachment parenting mama.

Flee while you still can!! I am one of those! You know the kind, the ones who are active (or like me, used to be active since I have NO time right now, but still give advice when asked) in La Leche League (which speaking of that, there are 2 awesome groups, one in Hebrew and one in English running in Jerusalem right now- email me for details).

The kind that breastfeeds a toddler, interested in baby led weaning or baby led foods, tries to wear or hold her baby as much as possible, doesn't believe in cry it out sleep training, has co-slept with her baby for now close to 2 years, and still has her in her room when not... I know. I'm a freak. I'm facing it.

It's not a cult, I tell my husband- I raise a happy, well adjusted, independant, smart, courageous and adorable toddler this way! Her needs are met, I am in her life, despite working during the day, and all is right with the world! And then he conceeds, that yes, everyone is happy- and then mutters "LLL, it's a cult" under his breath. And we both laugh.

Now. I am usually a very non-judgmental person. I try very hard to be like this. The problem is usually not me- but people around me. Like for example, if someone mentions she's giving her one year old milk, and I remark, "Oh that's nice.", she immediately feels she has to defend herself and say, "Well, I breastfeed for a year, and now I need a break, and I'm happier and so is he, so now we stopped nursing."

Okay lady. I get it. And truthfully, a side of me says- yay! You are happy and your baby is happy! So what's the problem? I certainly don't care! I think 3 days of breastfeeding is a huge accomplishment and mothers should get awards for it!
Yet AP parents get a flak, sort of, of being judgmental of others' parenting, so hence the response.

Yay! I'm happy you found a bedtime routine that works for you. Do you really think I care that your kid is in another room than you? Do what works! As a wise friend once said- if it ain't broke, don't fix it. (Now, if you let your kid scream for hours alone to get that result, don't expect me to praise you. I may nod and say, OK, but I'm certainly not going to lambast you in public for it. If I feel you are receptive to a comment, I may recommend The No-Cry Sleep Solution as an alternative.)

So I'm throwing this out to the blogosphere. Do you feel people judge you on your parenting style? Are you judgmental of others? Do people feel they have to defend their style to you?

Top Ten Things I'm Grateful For

I think it was R' Avigdor Miller who said that one should write a list every once in a while to say thank you to Hashem for all the good He does for us. This can also be applicable to everyone- as everyone has something to be grateful for. In one of R' Shimshon Pincus's books, he says that every mitzvah leads a person to realize something he/she is grateful for. If you see a Mezuzah, and you head to kiss it- be grateful you have a house. If you get something Shatnez-checked- be grateful you have clothing, and so on. Each leads to a way to thank Hashem for all we have.
Without further ado: Top Ten Today (not necessarily in perfect order)

1. Breathing- air- respiration- oxygen
2. My body, with all of it's intricacies, from the organ to the cellular level
3. My Neshama- soul
4. My Parents and Family
5. My Husband
6. My daughter
7. Having a Parnasa in these rough times
8. The world we live in- the sky, the earth, the grass, the trees, the beauty
9. Yerushalayim- the zechus to live here, and this special city
10. The ability to think.

Erev Shabbos #25- Short Friday

People view me as a generally 'emotional' person- when I'm happy, I'm happy, sad, sad, excited, angry- you name it, I display it. It's something I think I have to work on in my life. After all, my face is public property.

But no more of that- frantic- is the emotion I generally feel on a Friday afternoon that leads to a Short Erev Shabbos. After all- I have to have everything ready by 4:00 in the afternoon- and no, I don't cook during the week. All is done on Friday, fresh and early. Even if I have guests, most of the time I don't prepare in advance.

I do however, during each recipe on a given Friday, try to make doubles or triples- to stash up in my freezer for times of need, a friend in need, or an emergency.

Yet early Shabbosim, and the Short Friday syndrome (everything is always ready, exactly when Shabbos starts, no matter what time it is) often prevent me from doing everything.

A rebbitzen in our community once discussed a lady who was very stressed out on Erev Shabbos. The lady complained that she had no time, and couldn't manage to get everything done, so she vented her frustration on her husband and family. (I'm sure we all can relate to that.) So my rebbitzen's answer- buy some ready made and use paper and plastic. Hence the reason that she is a practical rebbitzen, and I am not.

So I try. But- sometimes the Short Friday overtakes me, and I'm found rushing from one thing to the next, ordering my family around, and generally frantically frustrating the world.

Yet I continue to hope that every week I will find the right balance- between getting everything done, and getting frantic about it- between having it all and doing what I need to do.

It's a work in progress- just like my kugels. But it'll happen eventually- with Siyata Dishmaya- help from Heaven.

10 Things I Learned in America

Yes, SD, I'm stealing your Top 10 idea, even though it's Wednesday.

I'm back, after a long and harrowing trip. We had our ups and our downs- lost luggage, close connection flights, and busy days and nights. I'm so thankful to be back.

So here's my list of things I learned in America.

10. American money was almost unrecognizable to me- it's so big, and green. I felt like it was Monopoly money. You know how everyone says that America is cheaper- somehow, I didn't get that impression, when a bottle of Snapple has jumped from 1.25 to 1.50 or even 2 dollars, and a slice of pizza is now $2.50. How times have changed.

9. Snapple rules. Israel should import it. That's all I'm saying. Especially diet Snapple.

8. I forgot how polite Americans are- holding doors open, saying excuse me, please, and hi. I almost hit my own head when I responded like an Israeli would to someone randomly saying hi to me. I said, "Do I know you?" I learned by that that I have integrated well in to Sabra culture.

7. It is nice to have a car once in a while- but finding parking spaces in New York is impossible. It's got to be one of the three: a driveway, a fire hydrant, or a no parking sign.

6. El Al rules. I could give a giant review on how wonderful they are- but it'll wait for another post.

5. Wal-mart is amazingly wonderful- just as I remembered it. And, courtesy of the Jewish Press, I saw that they are in talks to open stores in Israel. After all, many Wal-mart products are made in Israel anyway, so it would be easy. My dream of it coming here is not far away.

4. American news sometimes knows more about what is happening in Israel than the Israeli news does. Other times they get it totally wrong. (Well, usually they do.)

3. When people ask where you are from, and you say Israel- they usually respond with shock. I guess the news really does a number on people. But when you compare Israel lifestyle with Manhattan- they understand completely.

2. Israel coffee is better than US coffee. Even iced, or carmelized, or whatever. It's a known fact. I used to dream about US coffee while living here, but now that I've gone back after tasting Israeli- either my taste buds have changed, or the coffee has- or I just never gave Israeli coffee the chance it deserved. Cafe Neeman here I come.

1. That Israel is (for me) one of the best places on Earth- and I'm so glad to be back.

Comparative Religion

A NYTimes Article struck my eye- "Basic Religion Test Stumps Many Believers"- in that a survey was sent out with basic questions about different religions, and most answered incorrectly (more than half) as well as people answering wrongly about their ownreligion. However- out of all the people in the US who took the survey, atheists and agnostics, as well as Jews and Mormons- scored the highest in knowledge.

That's pretty good, I think- that we actually, as Jews- know what we are talking about- about our own religion, and about others. And, the atheist statistic doesn't surprise me either- I think that most feel that they have to do research before coming to such a decision about faith. Realize, though, that I said most- I have found so many irreligious Jews who don't do research at all- who don't know about anything really, that has to do with religion, Jewish or other.

But what was saddening to me was that 43% of Jews didn't know that the Rambam- Maimonides- was Jewish. What do you think the explanation for that was?

A Small Bit of the Kibbutz

My Ulpan is still going on, and with it they are celebrating the 100th year anniversary of the establishment of the Kibbutz. We have been shown films, text, and other various presentations regarding the establishment of the Kibbutz, Kibbutz life, shared life, living, sleeping, shared education, and the eventual breaks among the Kibbutz and among the movement.

I am definitely not the expert of a Kibbutz. I’ve read Batya Gur’s ‘Murder on a Kibbutz’, which was illuminating, heard the words of various Israeli writers on the subject, and recently watched the documentary film of Ran Tal- ‘Yeldei HaShemesh’.

Ran Tal spoke personally to the group afterwards, and mentioned an interesting point- that before one judges the kibbutz society, and how they lived, with the minimal time spent with parents, and the shared environment in general- one should see that in families where there are problems among the family itself- a broken home, an abusive home, and so on- that the family model is not necessarily perfect either. The Kibbutz model has different problems, but neither model is perfect.

In R’ Mattisyahu Solomon’s recent book, ‘With Hearts Full of Love’, on Chinuch, he discusses the interesting idea that before a Jewish marriage, no one presents the young couple a certificate, or even a training course, saying that they are fit to become parents. He questions why not, and his answer is that he believes that within each person, within in each Jewish marriage, they are equipped with all the necessary tools to educate their future children, albeit if they need advice or so on- but they have the tools necessary.

The kibbutz movement felt to eliminate these problems would be to create this shared environment, to make sure that the children would be educated and so on in the way that they wished, without these problems. I can see their point- from their side, but watching this movie brought tears to my eyes.

To see these young parents not being able to relate to their own children, because they were not brought up with love from their own parents, to not being able to even give them a kiss or a hug from true feeling, simply because they were brought up in the kibbutz lifestyle. To see a sobbing child being brought back to the shared children’s room, and crying for their Ima, until the wee hours of the night, or to stay awake all night, afraid to go to sleep- it’s the saddest thing in the world. To see a child, sneak out of the children’s room, wandering outside in the dark till they found their parent’s room, and then to sleep outside the door, or to clutch their parents’ sheet, but not wake them at all- simply because their parents would bring them back- just to be in the same room with them- it literally made me cry.

For one, I am glad that the Kibbutz movement eventually got rid of shared sleeping spaces- but it taught me something powerful: there is nothing more important in a family than the loving relationship between a parent and child. And how blessed I am to go home to my daughter, to hug her and to kiss her, and to be a true family with her.

Aseret Yemei Teshuva

Rosh Hashana passed here, along with its uncommon three day Yom Tov here in Israel. Even after only a few years here in Israel, I still feel it odd to actually celebrate three days of Yom Tov. After all, most holidays here only last at maximum two days, and we end earlier than outside of Israel, which is especially nice for Pesach.

And now we enter in to a new stage- the Aseret Yemei Teshuva- from Alef of Tishrei of Rosh Hashana to the Yud of Yom Kippur. Along with the buses that have switched their flashing phrase from ‘Shana Tova’ to ‘Gemar Chatimah Tovah’, and the Kaparot stations that have found their way to every street corner, alleyway, and intersection- it also comes a feeling of limbo.

Our jobs from Heaven have been set out for us on Rosh HaShana, the final Din is reiterated on Yom Kippur in clay, and sealed in blood on Hoshana Rabbah. We’re in between, in a bit of limbo, without a concrete stage of life to understand. After all- we try our best during these ten days to just be a bit better- to add in more prayers to our every day ones, to try to do what we would like to do during the rest of the year, but somehow are prevented from doing. But we’re still in limbo- one good thing could just push us over the edge, right into that book of life.

So let’s make a proactive effort. Take on one small thing- one thing to push you over that edge, to try to make you into that better person that you have in your own ideals and dreams. And try it for the rest of these days- see what happens. It’s the little steps that count- and that which can pull us out of limbo and into the Hebrew ‘Chaim’- life and all that it represents.

Gmar Chatima Tovah L’Kulam.

Leaving the Holy Land

No, I'm not leaving- I just got here. But I might be back to visit the good old U.S. of A. sometime in the near future. And you know what?

The thought is making me antsy. Not the good things about it: being able to see friends and relatives again, do some much needed shopping (ie: pick up things that are either only available in the US, or cheaper there- anyone who wishes to help me with this at any time is free to email me), and bring a bit of the Holy Land there. On the other hand, how can I leave Israel?
To not see my blue sky, my crisp white stone buildings- the air, the atmosphere- the general feeling that it impresses on my psyche?

And NBD (should I come up with another name for her now that she's 1 1/2? ) has never been outside of the Holy Land. When I made aliyah with her, the Misrad HaKlita (Ministry of Absorption) asked me when her entry into Israel was, as it was not written in her passport. I replied, "She was born here." They then duly recorded her date of birth as the entry into this special place. Like Yitzchak Avinu, who never left the Holy Land in his lifetime unless instructed by G-d- how can I take here out of here, even for a short time?

There are rabbinic responses listed as to for what reasons one can leave Israel. I think that R' Moshe Feinstein is the posek involved who gave the reasoning that if parents want one to come back to Chutz L'Aaretz to visit- that would be enough of a reason. But the simple truth shows that one needs a pretty good reason to leave Israel.

When all is said and done, I still don't know if we will be leaving or not. But I do know that if we do leave, I will be pining for my Yerushalyim every day that I'm gone.

Integration in Israel Part Three

The second thing that happened to me was that a neighbor called me about a certain gan that was opening up in my neighborhood. It has a specific style of learning, of which I'm an advocate for, and she wanted to know if it would be suited for her child.

I told her my opinion, but added in a statement in that I felt that at her child's age, language would probably be an important thing to learn in the year- I felt that her child should go to a Hebrew gan, to better get a grasp on Ivrit.

She told me that that was her first inclination also, to send to a transitional, or Hebrew-speaking gan. But she felt that the style of learning in the new Gan would be better for her child.
So, she switched.

I later met another neighbor, who's child was registered originally for this specific new gan. I mentioned that I had just recommended another mother to this gan. She replied that she had switched her child out of it- why?
Language. She felt that her child should go to the Hebrew speaking gan that I recommended to my first neighbor.

So should I go back and stress the importance of Hebrew? Are there different opinions on this issue?

How early is too early to learn a language?

Why should I feel I should sacrifice an excellent learning style just to learn Hebrew?

This whole gan registration time is making me nuts, honestly. Integration isn't so easy after all.

A Jewish Student Speaks

I don't usually delve into politics- but I thought this article, posted on Israel National News (Arutz Sheva) was kind of cool. It's about a lone Jewish high school student which marched alongside Arab-American students protesting Israel.

Reporters asked him [the Jewish student] afterwards about his unusual presence, and he explained, “I came out because I want to defend Israel… They [the soldiers attempting to divert the flotilla ships - ed.] were attacked, and they had the right to defend [themselves]. These people [on the boats] were not humanitarians; their ship was armed with knives, batons, and all kinds of things to attack the Israelis with. There is a naval blockade on Gaza, and they [the soldiers] were just doing their job of enforcing it… Hamas is a terrorist organization trying to kill Israelis.”
Asked if he is affiliated with any group, he said, “Just Judaism and Israel, that’s it."
.........
Another Arab-speaking American explained, “The only reason Israel is doing this is because they got kicked out from, uh, the German whatever, whatever happened to them. So they’re trying to take out their anger on someone else.” Asked about the Bible and the Jewish presence in the Land of Israel since the times of King Solomon, he lowered his voice and said, “I don’t know about that.”

Check it out here with a video.

Integration in Israel Part Two

After having posted about the integration issues that Americans who have chosen to live in Israel face regarding their kids, two things happened to me.

One, I re-evaluated my choice for my daughters' first gan several times. I originally had chosen a gan that I thought would be wonderful for her, if not the total, absolute best, because that was what was out there that I thought suited her and our lifestyles.

Then someone else suggested a gan that would probably be the total absolute best gan out there. Problem is, that the gan is not a religious gan, but rather a gan to which religious people send their children. (ie, it's not a Bais Yaakov, but rather an Iriyah gan, to which those who are Dati Leumi or Mizrachi send their children, with a few Charedim thrown in the mix.)

As I investigated more into this gan, I found that it would probably be a wonderful place for my daughter, but for one problem: future Bais Yaakov schools would probably ask why I had sent her there, due to the fact that it is not a Bais Yaakov gan. (There were other small problems as well, like logistics and such.)

And so, I nixed that idea, and went back to my first opinion.

Now the question that still lingers in my mind: was I right to make that decision? If I wasn't afraid of public opinion, would I have sent her there? She probably would have an awesome year there, and would grow and gain in ways that my first choice gan would not be able to give her.

I can't fight the system on my own- to explain to a Bais Yaakov, which already looks down on me for being American, and for working at a job that not many mothers work at, why I sent my daughter to a gan that's not Bais Yaakov- would be far too hard for me to handle.

Yet I still wonder- should I have taken the risk, for my daughter's education's sake?

Third part coming soon….

Israel Through Different Eyes

I recently hosted a good friend of mine who was visiting here for two weeks. As I'm in school and in work full time, I wasn't around much to show her the Israel ropes, but I figured that a basic level of Hebrew from American schools, plus the fact of her being Jewish and having visited Israel before, would be enough for her to get around touring this fair country.

It was enough- but I realized that there are so many things I've learned since I came here- things that I think are basic to anyone living in Israel, but not at all basic to those coming from America. Like, how not to take an Arab taxi, and how to pay the correct amount for a Jewish taxi.

How to stand while holding on to a swinging bus (is it true that all bus drivers are former tank drivers from the army?), and be able to punch your cartisiya, hold a baby, and fold a stroller while finding your seat.

How to navigate the winding streets of Yerushalayim, and how to find my way, basically, in the Old City. How to find the best stores to shop in, and how to find American salad dressing in Israel (not as hard as it used to be, but still hard).
How to adjust to the rest break in the middle of the day, and to learn that afternoon in Israel means after 5:00 PM, not after 12:00 PM as previously thought. Morning is MORNING with a capital M; starting days at 6:00 is common.

How to smile when you see that little one with a baggie containing their shopping list and the money necessary to purchase it, walking their way with small steps to the local grocery store, instead of freaking out that a child that young is going unaccompanied.

I guess there is a lot to learn in Israel- but oh, so much to love. Come back soon and visit again!

School or Work

Time truly seems to fly as stop speed many times, and yet other times crawl.
(Shavuot was nice, thanks for asking, and my pareve cheesecake was praised beyond my milchig one.)

Some people I know are content to stay in school forever. Knowledge for knowledge sakes' they cry, saying that they love the learning process, they love stretching their minds over homework and tests, and they love the research that goes along with learning new things. They like the teachers, the coffee stands, the quick meals or chocolate pick-me-ups, and the classrooms with their internet.

I actually used to be this way- I liked the atmosphere in school, the quest for mind-broadening and the teachers who opened doors to me for a new universe.

Isn't that a Talmid Chacham's love as well- constant study, growth, learning, knowledge of Torah- although they also have a motivation in that Torah study is considered like all the other mitzvos, it sustains the world, and in the fact that they are obligated to do it?

Yet lately, I have been finding myself wanting to finish school, acquire the knowledge and head into the workforce of my choice. There are those- as a blogger once told me- who hate school with a passion, and would much rather be working. They would be happy to get the knowledge they need, and go to their future job and get trained in there- rather than settle for tests, classrooms, and that water fountain that tastes metallic.

Guess it takes all people to enjoy the world. Good luck on your paths- you'll need it.

Riding the Train (or Bus)- It's all Good

Sometimes, I have a really bad day. That seems to happen once in a while, where everything that can go right goes wrong, and some other things besides.
It was on one of those days that I boarded my second bus, heading to my third, and last bus of the day, and all I wanted was to get home to my daughter. The driver pulled up to the stop I was supposed to get off on, and the third bus that I was supposed to take pulled up right behind. Great, I thought. I'll just get off, and get on. Easy.

Yet for some reason, the bus driver hesitated while opening the second door of the bus, and as I disembarked, my third bus drove away, in a trail of dust.

My first, gut reaction was, how not fair could one day be. My second reaction was, that maybe, if I had reacted sooner, I could have gotten the driver to open the door faster, and I would be on my bus, instead of at the bus stop.

But my third thought brought it into perspective. I said to myself (and I don't do these type of conversations often), who are you kidding. Hashem didn't want you on that bus, that's why you aren't on it. He's running the routes, he's guiding the trains, the buses, the planes- and if you're not on that bus, it's because you shouldn't be. If I would have gotten the driver's attention, I probably would have still missed the bus- because it wasn't in that Divine plan. So it was meant to be, and so it is.

And as my mind came to a peace of mind, knowing that G-d had wanted it this way- my eyes lifted, and I saw another, of the same number, bus pull up directly in front of me- mostly empty. And as I boarded, I realized my lesson of the day- it's G- d calling the shots, and all is Gam Zu L'Tova.

Chag Sameach all!

Yom HaShoah, Yom HaZikaron, Yom HaAtzmaut

This is my first year being in Israel as an Olah, and as such, these 'national' holidays somehow take on more significance. I had a draft on Yom HaShoah, but as it has gone by, and we are on to the next national holiday, I figured my thoughts could go all together.

Yom HaShoah per say is one of those holidays that the religious public and the secular tend to disagree on. Rabbis have ruled that mourning is not such a good thing during the time of Nissan, and as such, we should have mourning for those victims of the Holocaust during other days set aside for mourning already, like the 10th of Tevet, and Tisha B'Av. There are Kinos and other liturgies written specifically commemorating those Kedoshim to be said on those days.

None the less, I still had something very positive to say on Yom HaShoah. In my workplace, they
had a gathering for all the students and employees, and presented a presentation on the Holocaust and its victims. Now, usually, these presentations take on a very secular perspective, as that is what resonates with most- not the religious stories most who live in the charedi world grow up hearing.

But the one thing that really did resonate with me was that despite being in an entirely secular environment, the first thing they did after the siren and moments of silence, was to read a Yizkor memorial prayer, commemorating those who died Al Kiddush Hashem, and to hope that their neshamos have an aliyah.

Now, that was something special that I noticed- an entirely secular group of people, recognizing that those who died because they were Jews died Al Kiddush Hashem- they actually mentioned G-d. And G-d in the Jewish sense- unlike many American gatherings where other religions might play a role, or no religion at all. Many Holocaust gatherings in America stress the genocide aspect, the killing of many different people, such as gypsies or the handicapped. Very few secular gatherings in America take any time to mention G-d at all, or that the souls of these people have not died in vain, for we remember them, and say a prayer for their memory.

When I came home, and remarked as such to Mr. NMF- he reminded me that the Teshuva movement in Israel is always growing. He believes it is much more prevalent than it was in times gone by.

As for Yom HaZikaron, another sad day here in Israel- I actually did not have a memorial service to attend, but most of my workplace did. I looked up how Yom HaZikaron started, and I found out that originally, the politicians (typically Jewish) couldn't agree on a date, so they lumped it together with Yom HaAtzmaut- which was hard for the people actually mourning to concentrate on the happiness of Independence. So, they moved it to one day earlier, the reason being to remind us all what the cost of independence truly is. Somber thought, but something worth remembering.

And today? I'm celebrating the independence day by being off from work, and enjoying the day with my daughter. That's true independence for me.

Shidduchim: A Kapara For Klal

At a recent simcha, I came across a lovely woman, with several children, who is moving back to America after her recent sojourn in Israel since she got married. We schmoozed, and eventually played Jewish geography. People from my hometown came up, including a certain woman who is still looking for her shidduch. She is a wonderful person, sweet, smart, charming, kind; in short, all the good qualities one would look for in a shidduch. Yet she hasn't met her match yet. The woman across from me remarked, "Maybe it’s a Kapara (atonement) for Klal Yisroel (the Jewish people)."

I was a bit taken aback by this statement. Then the woman next to me commented that she believes that there are two types of older singles out there. There are those who are being reasonably too picky, as they might be looking for something they can't get, or is exceedingly hard to get. The other, simply, hasn't met the right one yet. And those are, in her words, a Kapara for the entire Jewish nation.

Again, my brain started working overtime. You mean to tell me that there are women and men out there in this world who are waiting to meet their match, through no fault of their own, but as a general atonement for the world?

It came as a sort of shock to me, so I headed home to ask Mr. NMF about it. He remarked that he doesn't know too much about it- as atonement, as a general rule, is Kabbalistic in nature. But, one thing he does know, is that a person doesn't go through suffering only for the nation as a whole, but also for themselves- for some trait/action of their own. In addition, he threw in the Gemara that states that the death of the righteous (not to compare the lack of a shidduch to death of course, just for comparison's sake) does atone. Therefore, one person does have the capability to atone for the Klal.

So what do you think? Are there those out there who are waiting for their match due to a Divine decree, not specifically against them, but for the nation as a whole?

Pesach Part 2

Life seems to be flying ahead of me so fast that I have at least 10 blog posts just waiting to be put up.

Here's the second Pesach part that I meant to put up earlier.

Pesach brings with it many things, mostly the domains of families. Many take trips, head out to wild, exotic places, just to see the sites and report back. Children in these families take great pride in reporting where they just came from, what they saw, and what they did. They brag about their latest exploits to their neighbors, friends, and classmates- and woe to those children who didn't do anything at all.

This past Pesach, the neighbor of mine who has 7 children delivered her eighth, a boy. And so, I and Mr. NMF volunteered to take the young ones on a trip to the zoo. Nothing major, but anything with 7 children becomes something major, of course. An enjoyable time was had by all, viewing the elephants and the vultures, just waiting to swoop down on my unsuspecting NBD, who laughed the whole time.

But the best part was, that now they had something to 'talk' about- that they did something on Chol HaMoed.

Compare that to my new neighbor, who also has 7 children, and is also a Ganenet. (I seem to attract these type of families as neighbors.) She confided in me that for her family, a Chol HaMoed activity is spending time with everyone- just hanging out together, small art projects, new games at home, or heading to a large park or picnic with extended family. In a way, I like this style some what better- as it promotes values that one doesn't really need to do something flashy or overdone in order to have a wonderful lasting time, that makes for good memories.

Either way, Chol Hamoed becomes the time to spend time with family. I hope all succeeded in doing that this Pesach.

Pesach Part 1

I'm busier than ever these days, especially with the inevitable Pesach cleaning. I'm also insanely jealous. Why?

Well, I'm making Pesach- the seders, the cooking, the cleaning- you name it, I'm doing it. And throughout the last couple of weeks, the common refrain from the young couples in the neighborhood has been something like this.

Me: How are you doing?
Neighbor: I'm busy packing. Gosh, it takes a long time.
Me: Really? Going to the US for Yom Tov?
Neighbor: Yes, and you wouldn't believe how much work it is. Packing, then taking a __ hour flight- it's just too much. You're so lucky you get to stay here.
Me: _______

If they think a 15 hour flight is hard, even with several children, try making Pesach anytime.
But anyway, enough with the griping. (Sorry! It's practically Erev Pesach! Hard to remain cheerful.)
Good news is that I get the amazing experience of being here in Israel for Pesach. Last year I got the pleasure of hosting a 2nd Seder, even though we had already moved here permenantly, and so I got to take pictures, relax, and enjoy the Seder in an entirely different way than I normally do. This year I plan to do the same, with even more guests.

It's a totally different feeling to know that you aren't obligated to start measuring your matzah out- and instead, you can just focus on the meaning of the Seder, the Divrei Torah, the essence of real freedom. I think it would be fun to continue hosting a second Seder, for fun, even when I don't have guests from America.

And now, for your viewing enjoyment, a short clip from the Robotics team in Rishon L'Tzion.



More on Pesach will be coming later. Stay tuned!

Reevaluating My Own Viewpoint

A couple days ago, I headed to a mothers' meeting in another neighborhood. It was wonderful, very nice to meet new people and have NBD play with new kids, but it also caused me to think quite a bit.

After all, as the authors of 'How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk' state, they read all the parenting books out there and were the best advice givers to those who didn't have children, until they had them. Then things change- your parenting 'style' evolves with time, with your children's ages, with basically just about everything.

Choices that you thought were set in stone, no longer are even carved into soap. Never say never, they say- and they don't know how right they are. Mr. NMF remarked that a family he knew were dead set on never giving their children candy. They tried fruit as the 'candy' instead. Result? Not surprisingly, it didn't work. They knew what a cookie was nonetheless.

I thought one thing before I had my daughter, now I think another. And it gets better and better with time. Books like 'Chinuch in Turbulent Times' or 'With Hearts full of Love' are my standbys, along with other Jewish parenting books like 'A Delicate Balance'. And of course I read so many other books as well. But books can only do so much, and then your parenting is tested by the children who you love so much.

But back to the original idea of my post. I met mothers who had the same viewpoints I did before I had children, but amazingly, they still stick with them. Things I thought would have been impossible, are right there in broad daylight for me to reach out and touch to see if they really are real. Like the woman who feeds her children only organic food, no sweets ever, and their favorite snack is chestnuts and whole wheat pretzels. Me? NBD can say bamba. (Really, I try to be good. Bamba is usually as bad as it gets around here.) After that, I took NBD to the park with only avocados and crackers with chummus, to assuage my guilty feelings.

So, should I have stuck with what I believed earlier? Should I ignore the fact that my perception of these things have changed?

Now, I don't know what to believe anymore.