Day 2-3

Monday, continued.
So I ended up eating a little more meat than I meant to. Probably about 200 grams in all. I was ok about the couscous - ate about 3/4 of a cup and lots and lots of veggies. Then when the kids were asleep, I had another bowl of veggie soup without the couscous.

Tuesday
Haven't exercised yet today. I'm trying to work up the energy.
Breakfast
1 cup coffee w/ milk and 1 teaspoon sugar
1 bowl quaker oat squares (it was the end of the box. I won't be eating those again.)
Snack
1/2 apple
Dinner
2 slices of meatloaf (I'd guess about 150-200 grams)
3 bites (less than one regular piece) potato kugel
1/2 cup couscous
1 big bowl soup w/ veggies (pumpkin, carrot, onion, kolrabi/rutabega, jerusalem artichoke, zucchini)
other: 
1 atomic fireball.

I'm trying something called the shangrila diet. It says that you should eat oil between meals to convince your body that taste and calories are unrelated so that you'll stop loading up on good tasting foods. I'm not 100% convinced it works, but I've only had one tablespoon of oil so far. I'll see what happens. It's supposed to reduce appetite and make weight come off faster. Either of those would be good for me.

Yesterday was a really hard day. Today was better, though I slept for a good chunk today.

Day 1

Sunday, day 1.
I worked out with the Kinect for about 15-20 minutes, calorie burn - 100 calories.

breakfast: bagel with 2 eggs.
lunch: chicken quarter (breast) and 1 apple
snack: 2 atomic fireballs with about 1 liter of water.
dinner: 2 fruit yogurts.

-----
Today, Monday day 2,
Gave up on the Kinect and did a 40-minute walk instead. I'm listening to Stephen King's "Under the Dome" on my mp3. Very engaging.
Breakfast - cottage cheese + 3% yogurt (gil) + a banana + 1 teaspoon sugar
snack - 1 large carrot
lunch - tilapia fillet fried in olive oil, soy sauce, 1 tomato, 1 cucumber, 1/2 avocado.
eating an atomic fireball now. I figure they're not so bad because I keep one in my mouth for 20-30 minutes and usually drink plenty of water with it.

Planned for dinner: meatballs + couscous + vegetable soup. Will have to be really careful about portions, since couscous and meatballs are not exactly low calorie. 

Today I Start

n

This isn't who I'm supposed to be:

And these are the reasons why I can't be like this:

Now I need to remind myself of this about 200 times a day instead of eating... and in just one year from now, I will be somewhere near where I need to be.

I guess one has to be pretty desperate to post this on their blog... actually, I am. The realization has been dawning on me slowly, but really, what's happened to me is absolutely awful. I can't keep living like this.

It started with the thyroid, but it got worse because I let it. 

So... hope you'll all come along for the ride.

Who Read Yesterday's Post to My Kids?

This morning was the exact opposite of yesterday. Ephraim went to the bathroom by himself, without being told. Kinneret needed only a gentle reminder. Nothing got on the floor. No nail polish, no cookies, nothing! Kinneret didn't ask for a bottle, which is a real achievement, since we threw out the bottles last week. Kinneret ate a carrot for pre-breakfast. Nobody asked for lollipops or gum. Ephraim didn't complain when I put his lens in. The kids got dressed with only the mildest of protests, and I didn't let it faze me.

Kinneret even gave me extra hugs and kisses when I dropped her off at gan. If every morning were like today, I think I'd be the happiest mom in the world.

Add into the mix that Yaakov's plane is due to land in two minutes, I have a new project to work on, and I spent the morning with a friend, and today is a pretty excellent day!

It's Potty Time, Let's Grab Some Floor Rags.

Both of my children are officially toilet trained. This should make me happy, but instead, it means that I'm cleaning the floor a lot. I mean an awful lot. At least every day. Often 2-3 times a day, which is quite a big considering that they're out of the house most of the day.

I think Ephraim's regressed because Yaakov is out of the country. I hope when Yaakov comes back (tomorrow! YAY!), it'll improve. In the meantime, I'm just... frustrated.

On other fronts, Kinneret and I have a personality conflict these days. She is constantly testing the limits and I'm constantly losing my temper. I often feel like the worst mother ever. Today I yelled at her for telling me to make her aruchat eser. It really drives me nuts when she tells me what to do. To be fair, I was awakened this morning by the smell of nail polish, which Ephraim had spread all over the floor. It doesn't exactly give one the best start possible...

Ephraim has developed some really strong feelings about pretty much everything. Last night, he insisted on going to sleep with a large wooden toy in his bed... go figure. About that I didn't argue, but I got pretty annoyed when I gave him a cookie and he threw it on the floor, and I don't love that when he's finished eating, he overturns his plate or bowl instead of just stepping away from the table or pushing it back or some other less messy signal.

They're both so cute and so sweet and they're growing every day, and I feel like I'm so frustrated and stressed from cleaning up accidents, preventing disasters, trying to get them to listen, etc that I'm not enjoying any of it.

Yaakov thinks he'll have to go out of the country yet again in another week or two. I keep reminding myself that it means air miles and per diems and shopping, but honestly, I really don't like being a single parent.

I have lots of support from all around me, but in the mornings, when I'm tired from middle-of-the-night wake-ups that can't be ignored because Ephraim wanders the house, and the dog is desperate for a walk I can't give until the kids are dressed, and I'm washing the floor repeatedly, I don't feel very supported. I feel very very alone, and not very happy either.

I apologize for the negative post, but sometimes, being a parent is just.... not all positive.

Bananas

How to Ask for a Banana:

Kinneret's way: I want a yellow.

Ephraim's way: (in a wailing tone) Pleaaaase a banana.

I'm not sure which is cuter, but they both got their bananas.

Two Years

January 5th, two years ago, at 9:40 in the evening, my son, Ephraim was born. He was beautiful and sweet. Yaakov and my mother were with me. We looked at him, his perfect fingers and toes, and his thin head of hair. We thought he might be a redhead. We knew he looked like Yaakov. At midnight, I went to the nursery to feed him, and he, unlike Kinneret, nursed. There was no milk, but he nursed. I don't think I've ever been happier in my life. I had two beautiful babies, a husband who loved me, and I was past a pregnancy that wasn't exactly fun.

Less than two days later, my world fell apart. I never understood how parents of a disabled child feel, but now I do. They say that you have to first mourn for the child you had expected before you can accept the child you got. That was certainly true for me. I went to appointments with him, was told that he could never play sports, work any kind of manual labor. I cried while I nursed him.

We brought him home and Kinneret called him "didi" then "baby." She wanted to hold him all the time, touch him all the time. She was so happy with the baby we'd brought home for her.

He had colic. I was exhausted.

I went through surgery with him, in the hopes of rescuing vision in his eye, and it failed. The doctor pushed for more surgery while telling me that there was no hope. I called experts from the United States and spoke to my pediatrician. We didn't go through a second operation.

Ephraim had the worst colic I've ever heard of. For five months, he rarely slept more than an hour at a time unless he was nursing. I carried him in the wrap carrier, sometimes nursing while I walked around. I waited for opportunities to share a meal with my parents so that one of them could hold him while I ate.

We went to the Vardizer clinic in Haifa for a prosthetic lens to help his eye socket grow and his face be symmetrical. The doctor there was the first person who told me my son has beautiful eyes. He told me that my son could be anything except three things: an air-force pilot - he can be a commercial pilot, though; a crane operator; a driver of a semi-trailer. He told me that the young lady who'd just come into the waiting room, the one with beautiful big brown eyes who had just finished army service as an officer, started out with an eye just like Ephraim's.

Yaakov's mother came to visit and rocked Ephraim endlessly while I tried to ready the house for Pesach.

Ephraim had an abscess and needed surgery again, this time in Hadassah Har Hatzofim.

My fibromyalgia flared up so badly that I could barely sit up. The flare up lasted for months.

Neighbors called social services because there was a baby crying so much of the time. The social worker came in, and everything was quiet. When I put Ephraim on the floor to play with his toys, he screamed. She understood.

Shlomo came to visit.

Kinneret called him "Epharim."

My mom and I (and Ephraim) went up to Haifa so often the taxi drivers at the train station got to know us.

My friends Jeremy and Kelli got married (again).

I took Kinneret for development tests because her speech was behind schedule.

Ephraim got his painted lens and looked cuter than ever.

Kinneret turned 3 and had a birthday party at gan.

Our family went to Finland and Russia for three incredible, but not so easy, weeks. Ephraim learned to walk.

The kids and I were home for three really not so easy weeks. It was too hot to be outside, too boring to be inside, just difficult.

Daycare started again. Kinneret started preschool (gan trom-trom). She learned how to use a stencil and cut with scissors.

Ephraim, who had always been the type to give in, suddenly started standing up for himself, sometimes too much.

His daycare lost his painted lens. More trips to Haifa.

Kinneret's gananot tell me that she's one of the more advanced kids in her group, that she's aware of everything. Her speech has caught up without any therapy.

Ephraim's hair has gotten absurdly long. It will be another year now until we cut it.

And there you have it... two years.

Happy Birthday Ephraim!!!

Conversations at 6am

Yaakov and I both have a cold, so this morning, at 6am, when the kids woke us, I went to the kitchen to make tea for both of us. The tea was a weak yellow color. The following conversation took place:
Yaakov: Is that chamomile tea?
Leah: No, it's green tea.
Yaakov: Oh, so it's good for the environment, that's why it's green.
Leah: No, green tea has anti-oxidants.
Yaakov: What do anti-oxidants do?
Leah (thinks for a moment): They keep you from rusting.
Yaakov (deadpan): People rust?
Leah (equally evenly): Yeah, that's why old people's joints creak.
Yaakov: OK. (drinks his tea)

Confessions of a Marching Mouse

In December of '84, I was a marching mouse in Woodland Hills (Lawton, Oklahoma) School's presentation of "Achoo Saves Christmas." I wore a leotard and tights and had a tail made of one side of a pair of pantyhose, stuffed with newspaper. I had paper ears on a paper headband. I marched into the auditorium, sat on the steps of the stage, and sang about how "Achoo is blue, blue-be-do be do be do..." How I ended up in this play was that my alternative was sitting in the principal's office while everyone practiced.

Yesterday, I went to a different kind of show. I went to Kinneret's gan party. Kinneret, too, wore a paper costume and walked around and sang songs in a winter(?) show. But Kinneret was a candle in a Hannuka show. As I watched her, I thought about my marching mouse experience, and I actually sobbed. I mean, one of the grandmothers there had to break out a box of tissues for me. I am so glad that Kinneret was singing about how she will light up the dark and how G-d will bring the redemption, and how we won't let the Greeks keep us from learning Torah.

She will never be a marching mouse. She will always be a candle!

Being the Video Lady

As my loyal readers know, I started SimchaVideos.com a short while ago. I make presentations/slideshows for Bar/Bat Mitzvas, weddings, trips, whatever.

Business has been slowly picking up. Today I finished up my first order. It was really exciting. The video came out great. The Bat Mitzva girl is very photogenic, so the pictures were beautiful. She chose her own song, "You'll be in My Heart" by Phil Collins, which worked really well with the pictures. I did a little playing around with the invitation to make it a part of the video. All told, it took about 4-5 hours to make the video. Those of you with calculators realize that at 150 shekels a video (introductory offer ends this week), that leaves my hourly wage at.. pathetic.

BUT..I really enjoyed working on it. I worked on it even when I had videos to watch and games to play, even though I wasn't up against that hard a deadline. So while I will be raising my prices and trying to get my process speeded up, I'm pretty happy.

Badmouthing Children

I read a personal finance blog, and the subject of being childless by choice comes up a lot. Leaving out halachic considerations, I generally think that people should only have children if they're 100% sure they want them, so I usually stay out of this discussion, but this comment really enraged me, so I figured I'd post my response:
 

"...mucking it up with one or more noisy, smelly, expensive, messy, self-centered ungrateful brats?"

This is what makes us parents angry at those who are childless by choice.

You were once a noisy, smelly, expensive, messy, self-centered ungrateful brat yourself, and yet here you are...

I don't mind if you say that you don't want to have children of your own because they require a lot of energy and care and time and money, but saying nasty things about children in general is just rude.

Are my children-

• Noisy? Sometimes. 
• Smelly? Rarely. You probably smell worse, since children's sweat is basically odorless. 
• Expensive? Only because we have them in daycare. If I had them at home, having the two of them would cost substantially less than the cost of a car each month. 
• Messy? Sometimes, but even my almost-2 cleans up when reminded. 
• Self-Centered? Sometimes, but aren't we all self-centered sometimes? I certainly didn't think it showed self-centeredness when my 3.5-year-old saw me crying and patted me on the back and said "shhh. it's ok mommy" Sometimes, she's the most caring and giving child in the world. 
• Ungrateful - Yep, they're often ungrateful, but sometimes, you give them some tiny thing and they run at you to hug you and their gratitude is worth more than a thousand "thank you" notes.
• Brats - My kids aren't brats. Neither parent is career military. (I'm an army brat, so... that's what a brat is to me)

Go ahead and don't have children if you don't want them. If you're not fully committed to being a parent, don't do it. It'll be terrible for you and worse for the children.

But don't dare badmouth my kids. Or my choices.

One More Thing to Say

A lot has been written about RivkA bat Yeshaya. Everything important about her has been said. She was vivacious. She always had a smile, even when she was in pain. She had incredible strength. She loved her family. Her favorite color was purple. She loved pistachio milkshakes (ok, maybe no one else mentioned that). Each of us says one thing we remember, and it gives the rest of us one more thing to hold on to.

But I didn't know her that well. I spent the day with her twice. I kept meaning to spend another day with her, but time got away from me, and then the time was up. If I could have had another day, just another hour, I would have wanted to give her one more thing.

I don't have much to give. I would have made her a milkshake again, if she was up for it, brought a bagel again, if she thought she could eat it. But what I really wanted to do was bring her my memories of my trip to Finland.

RivkA had been to the juggling convention in Israel last year, and when I told her that I was going to Finland for the juggling convention, she was one of those who lamented being too large to fit into our luggage. I said I'd tell her all about it, and I never got to.

I wrote down what I wanted to tell her. I wrote about the trip, and about the things we did. I wanted to give her as much of the experience as I possibly could, because that was the only gift RivkA wanted - more time - to be with her family more and to experience more. I couldn't give her more time with her family, but I wanted to give her one more experience.

So here's what I wrote for her.

Dear RivkA,
I still haven't had a chance to tell you about EJC (European Juggling Convention) 2010 - Joensuu, Finland.

It wasn't at all what I expected. First, I expected cold, or at least cool. Ha! That's a laugh. It was hot almost every day. One day, it got up to 40 C, breaking records. We only used the heat in our cabin one night.

The shows were interesting. I only saw a few, because - well toddler attention spans. A lot of it was this super-European art juggling which is kind of boring.
The action in the gym was more interesting. There were neat passing patterns everywhere and all kinds of cool tricks to watch.

We spent a lot of time talking to a German guy named York (Jork?) who heads a church-based juggling group in his home town. He'd come with his two teenage children and another five kids who weren't his. His daughter played accordion for our kids and he played guitar. He and Yaakov did a lot of passing. I started to learn rings. I expected it to go well, but it just didn't, so I'm still working on it. It's slow going.

We're also working on building a duo act so we can take shows. Again, slow going, but we wing it.

The campsite where we stayed was on a lake, so we went into the lake a few times. The water was SO COLD! But it was really amazing on the hot days. Ephraim was terrified of the water, but Kinneret really loved it.

I think I really enjoyed the white nights more than I would have expected to. The experience of it being midnight and still light out was just so different. The first week, I went to the campsite's office for a beer, internet, and to watch the lack of sunset. I never enjoyed beer so much.

Helsinki was filled with walking and blueberries and finding places for the kids to play. Again we were on the beach, and we enjoyed the water.

Russia, well, we got some great photos and souvenirs, and I just read a book in which the characters traveled to St. Petersburg, and it was really amazing to be able to picture the scene.

So that was our trip. And then we came home and there's no place like home.

----

I'm sorry I never got to say this. I'm sorrier that RivkA never got to go to a European Juggling Convention, that she won't be at the next Israeli juggling convention, that no matter how much I want to, I can't give her any more experiences or any more time.

Goodbye RivkA. I miss you.

How to Glue a Banana (an Important Parenting Skill)

Ephraim in His Rocking Chair

Each day, I pick up Kinneret at her gan (pre-school) and Ephraim at his daycare (which they also call a gan), and we walk home, except sometimes, if I don't feel well, or if I'm running late. Then, my mom helps me get the kids. One day last week, my mom helped me get the kids.

We brought them inside, and the two children sat in their rocking chairs. They asked for bananas. Ephraim said "nana" and Kinneret went along for the ride.

I made sure not to open their bananas (a cardinal sin), until they asked for help. Then I opened the bananas, and Ephraim's broke, causing tears, screams, moans. It was truly tragic. My mother and I sat there, trying to determine what to do.

Logical Mommy said "I'm sorry your banana broke, Ephraim" but the wails continued.
Logical Mommy tried again, "Eat the broken part fast Ephraim" but to no avail. He kept screaming.
And then Savta, who couldn't stop laughing whispered two magical words...(which shall soon be revealed)

Logical Mommy gave up, took the banana, took a knife, went to the cabinet, and got some magical banana glue (a.k.a. peanut butter.) and glued the banana together.

Ephraim took the banana. The tears ceased. The wails stopped. The banana-eating proceeded. Life was good.

Sometimes, you just have to glue the banana.