Mom in Israel made up a new Meme for those of us who deal with the issues of tzniut, the Jewish laws & traditions of modesty.
Though I wasn't tagged, I've decided it might make interesting reading for someone (maybe me) if I answered it...
Here goes:
1. For married women, do you dress by the same standards as you did when you got married?
Yes, but I've only been married about a year.
2. Also for married women, do you and your husband conflict about this issue?
Yes. My husband is much more strict about these rules than I would like to be.
3. Have your standards changed from when you were growing up, and why?
Yes and no. My beliefs haven't changed. I'd dress the same as I did when I was growing up, but my husband would have heart failure if I did.
4. Do you often feel uncomfortable when you are in the company of a group keeping higher or lower standards than you?
Yes. I feel like the knee-sock wearers are looking down on me, and like the chilonim all think that I'm one of those crazy charedi women.
5. If you have ever suddenly changed your standard of dress, did people treat you differently or make approving/disapproving remarks?
I got a fair amount of sympathy, but not a lot of approval or disapproval. I guess I have nice friends.
6. How accepting is your community of women who "deviate" from the generally accepted mode of dress?
I live in a mixed community, so it's not really a problem.
7. If you have a daughter, has tzniut become an issue yet?
We don't have one yet, but the standards we want for our daughters has already become an issue in our marriage (sometimes we really buy trouble, don't we?)
8. Any other comments you care to share on the topic.
I want my pants back!!!!!!!! I always dreamed of being pregnant in big overalls. And my elbows! Hello, it's freaking hot out. I want my elbows!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Independence!
I'm feeling a little bit of writer's block about Yom Haatzmaut this year.
Part of it is because I'm pregnant and there's this little person kicking at my insides distracting me from pretty much everything. Part of it is the weather. We're having what's called a Sharav. A Sharav occurs when a hot wind sweeps across the desert, carrying dust and pollen everywhere. As a result, those of us who have allergies and asthma are suffering pretty badly. As a new asthma sufferer, I haven't quite worked out the regimen for a sharav, so mostly I'm sitting with a mask on my face, inhaling vapors of saline solution because I'm afraid to have more bronchodilators and i can't take breathing the dry, dusty stuff that's passing for air.
Over at the Dry Bones Blog, there are some nice comments on Yom Haatzmaut. He appears not to be pregnant... :)
At SerandEz, Jameel is all ready for the chag.
Hopefully tomorrow, I'll be up for telling you about our barbecue/party in Moshav Tarum.
(if we manage to get there...)
t.c.
Beautiful Music
My husband doesn't like Israeli music, but I do. For me, being Jewish is so intertwined with being an Israeli that I can't help but love the music. Two days each year, the radio stations play the most beautiful songs all day. The first is Holocaust Remembrance Day, which was last week. The second, which is today, is Yom Hazikaron. Yom Hazikaron is not Memorial Day - at least not in the American sense of the term. Yom Hazikaron is a full-fledged day of mourning.
Today, the radio plays sad songs, songs written to those who are no longer with us, songs written by those who are no longer with us. A few years ago, several Israeli artists began a project called "Soon We will Become a Song." The project takes poems written by soldiers who were killed in battle and sets them to music. The artists then perform them so that their poetry lives on, their song lives on.
In Israel, there is one more time when we hear beautiful music. We hear the beautiful music when there is a terror attack, when someone is killed. Someday, we won't have to hear such beautiful music. Someday, we won't have to hear the beautiful songs written by our best and brightest who are no longer with us.
Yehi Zichram Baruch.
Today, the radio plays sad songs, songs written to those who are no longer with us, songs written by those who are no longer with us. A few years ago, several Israeli artists began a project called "Soon We will Become a Song." The project takes poems written by soldiers who were killed in battle and sets them to music. The artists then perform them so that their poetry lives on, their song lives on.
In Israel, there is one more time when we hear beautiful music. We hear the beautiful music when there is a terror attack, when someone is killed. Someday, we won't have to hear such beautiful music. Someday, we won't have to hear the beautiful songs written by our best and brightest who are no longer with us.
Yehi Zichram Baruch.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Wrapping up the Week
It's been a quiet week in On Sunday, while I was writing my previous post, I guess the subject matter really got to me, because I felt faint and weak, and went to lie down. I put my feet up, but I kept feeling worse, so I called the Women's Clinic. They told me to come in, and the doctor there sent me to the ER at Shaarei Zedek. My mom was in Petach Tikva, picking up some stuff from Shai Bar Ilan's Office for the trip to China. Yaakov and I don't have a car (and I couldn't have driven anyway, the way I felt) so I went through the list of people I know, and after careful consideration of all the possibilities, I hailed a taxi. Yaakov met me at the hospital a little while later.
After about a half hour of poking and prodding, they took blood from me and hooked up an IV and gave me a liter of fluids. They also did an ultrasound so we could see that the baby is nice and healthy, and a baby monitor so we could hear the baby's heartbeat. (The baby was pretty uncooperative, so most of what we heard was my heartbeat.)
Then the sent us to another doctor. Although I hadn't had a fever earlier, at this point I did. He gave me two Acamol (think Tylenol), and told me to go back to the doctor who'd sent me to the hospital (he was at the hospital at this point) and get released.
So... after 6 hours, I was released with 2 acamol and a liter of what basically amounted to water...
That was a fun day.
Monday, I felt great. I mean, perfectly healthy. I had some work to do, so I got it done. I took care of all kinds of stuff I've been meaning to deal with at home. Then I went over to my sister's house. Her son had to give some kind of book report in class the next day, and he had read 8 pages of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing
. Eight! Out of 120. The thing is, he's a slow reader - it's a problem when it's not your native language. I read terribly slowly in Hebrew. So I read him the next 112 pages. It took me two hours, and by the time I finished, I felt like I'd been through a war.Tuesday, Yaakov and I both woke up feeling miserable. We went to the doctor and he couldn't find anything wrong with me, but Yaakov had an ear infection, so he got ear drops and antibiotics. We came home and slept all day. Wednesday we were too sick to do anything, including take me to the doctor. I went to the doctor on Thursday, and I have bronchitis, so I'm on antibiotics too.
Thursday was my birthday. My parents sent me flowers, and my sister gave me a really cool t-shirt that she made herself. She came over with her daughter, Guli (Abigail Rebecca). Guli was supposed to sing "Happy Birthday," but she got a little shy, and I think Poofy scared her a little. He did calm down eventually, and she was able to give him a ball, which he promptly took in his mouth and chewed on. But... back to the t-shirt that my sister made... As you can see, it's a picture of Baby G., complete with umbilical cord! It's a night shirt, because Yaakov thinks that elbows should be heard and not seen or not heard and not seen or something like that... Anyway, it's a nice big comfy shirt and it's seriously cute! She's thinking of offering them for sale on one of those sites where you can make t-shirts and then people buy them and you get a percentage. I think it's a cool idea, although it's odd that the ba
by's picture is on my chest when the baby is clearly in the belly (of the beast?). By the way, apparently us Americans are supposed to spell it traveling, but that just looks soooo strange that I prefer the UK way. I'll stick to color and gray, though. And don't even get me started on that silly re/er thing, I mean, come on, it's center. If you spell it centre, it might as well say "sentry..."Yaakov and I had been planning on going out to dinner, preferably someplace with nice, juicy steaks for me and equally juicy burgers for him... but alas, since between the two of us, we barely managed to do one load of laundry and take the dog out for his walks. we decided that it'd be more prudent to order in. So I had a steak sandwich (which was ok) and he had a burger (which was pretty good) and we both had some wings (which were too spicy), and a whole bunch of people called and wished me a happy birthday, and I rambled incoherently to most of them.
Almost forgot. My neighbor Eliyah (with some help from her mom) made me a really sweet birthday card. On the outside, it says Happy Birthday, and inside there was writing from S., Eliyah's mom, and a picture of the sun that Eliyah drew herself. There was also a lot of writing by Eliyah, but I had a hard time reading it. Often times, I find that it's a little difficult to read a 3-year-old's writing, because it seems that each individual 3-year-old has his or her own writing system. Usually by the time an adult manages to learn to read it, the child has gi
ven up the writing system and writes using the boring conventions that we all use.Now it's Friday, and the chicken and rice are cooking. We're both feeling a little better, but still not great. And most importantly, we made it through a kinda rough week... Shabbat Shalom, all.
And hopes for a good week for everyone next week.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Breaking the Silence
On the last of Pesach, the rabbis in several synagogues in Baltimore spoke out about a very serious problem in the religious community - the code of silence that has been protecting sexual predators in the community.
Ezzie talks about the statements released by the Baltimore Vaad here.
This problem is not new. When I was studying writing, one girl who was a member of a very religious community found herself dealing with the silencing of the problem in her writing. She described how parents refused to believe there was a problem, or, if they did believe there was a problem, they refused to report it for fear of hurting their children's chances of getting a good shidduch - a good marriage match.
When a professional I know was teaching new religious therapists, she encountered a story of a known abuser who was living in a certain community. While several children had independently accused him, none of the parents would allow their children to testify against him for fear of the family's reputation. This silence allowed the abuser to go unpunished, and to continue having access to more victims.
There have been numerous stories of rabbis in schools being moved to a different school in order to silence accusations. In the next school, the accusations surfaced again. Then the rabbis were moved on to a new community of unwitting parents and a new supply of victims.
The Baltimore Vaad has taken the very first step in breaking the silence, and I applaud them.
This past Shabbat, at my synagogue, Rabbi Lau (no, not this one, his son, Rabbi David Lau) spoke about the weekly portion, Shemini. The ending of this parsha is very upsetting. The children of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, future leaders of Am Yisrael (the nation of Israel) bring strange fire to the Mishkan - the tabernacle - and are killed by G-d.
It is said that when Job read about their death, he took it very hard. At first blush, that seems quite odd. Job had already lost all of his own children. Why would he mourn so bitterly for Aaron's two sons?
One midrash claims that Nadav said to Avihu, "When will these two old men die so we can lead the nation?" and Avihu didn't respond.
The midrash says that when Pharoah said that he wanted to kill all the sons of Am Yisrael, there were four people present - Pharoah, Yitro, Balaam, and Job. Balaam spoke for it, and was punished later. Yitro spoke out against it. Job, knowing he could not stop the inevitable, said nothing. When Job realized that Avihu was killed for saying nothing, he realized that all the punishment wrought upon him was for saying nothing.
Similarly, in Megillat Esther, the Scroll of Esther, Mordechai says to Esther "Im hacharesh tacharishi ba'et hazot, revach v'hatzala yaamod layehudim mimakom acher, v'at uvet avich tovedu..." - "If you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter, while you and your father's house will perish." (Translation courtesy of Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures--The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text
)
We *MUST* break the silence and protect our children. How can we be a holy nation if we harbor the unholy among us?
Ezzie talks about the statements released by the Baltimore Vaad here.
This problem is not new. When I was studying writing, one girl who was a member of a very religious community found herself dealing with the silencing of the problem in her writing. She described how parents refused to believe there was a problem, or, if they did believe there was a problem, they refused to report it for fear of hurting their children's chances of getting a good shidduch - a good marriage match.
When a professional I know was teaching new religious therapists, she encountered a story of a known abuser who was living in a certain community. While several children had independently accused him, none of the parents would allow their children to testify against him for fear of the family's reputation. This silence allowed the abuser to go unpunished, and to continue having access to more victims.
There have been numerous stories of rabbis in schools being moved to a different school in order to silence accusations. In the next school, the accusations surfaced again. Then the rabbis were moved on to a new community of unwitting parents and a new supply of victims.
The Baltimore Vaad has taken the very first step in breaking the silence, and I applaud them.
This past Shabbat, at my synagogue, Rabbi Lau (no, not this one, his son, Rabbi David Lau) spoke about the weekly portion, Shemini. The ending of this parsha is very upsetting. The children of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, future leaders of Am Yisrael (the nation of Israel) bring strange fire to the Mishkan - the tabernacle - and are killed by G-d.
It is said that when Job read about their death, he took it very hard. At first blush, that seems quite odd. Job had already lost all of his own children. Why would he mourn so bitterly for Aaron's two sons?
One midrash claims that Nadav said to Avihu, "When will these two old men die so we can lead the nation?" and Avihu didn't respond.
The midrash says that when Pharoah said that he wanted to kill all the sons of Am Yisrael, there were four people present - Pharoah, Yitro, Balaam, and Job. Balaam spoke for it, and was punished later. Yitro spoke out against it. Job, knowing he could not stop the inevitable, said nothing. When Job realized that Avihu was killed for saying nothing, he realized that all the punishment wrought upon him was for saying nothing.
Similarly, in Megillat Esther, the Scroll of Esther, Mordechai says to Esther "Im hacharesh tacharishi ba'et hazot, revach v'hatzala yaamod layehudim mimakom acher, v'at uvet avich tovedu..." - "If you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another quarter, while you and your father's house will perish." (Translation courtesy of Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures--The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text
)We *MUST* break the silence and protect our children. How can we be a holy nation if we harbor the unholy among us?
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Monopoly!
I looked at all the blogs that I ordinarily read. Guess what? Nobody's posted anything new in a few days! They're all too busy cleaning for Pesach. Fortunately, I had coffee tonight, so I'm raring to go, and my back hurts enough that the bendy work is completely out of the question...
So... it's time to blog! And I have the monopoly. My readers have no other blogs to read!
So I can bore you all with details about how I washed out my microwave even though we have a whole other microwave for Pesach... Or I can warn you that it's not a good idea to pour water into the oven to clean it. I could even tell you about the amount of stuff that I still have to do tomorrow.
But I think I'll relate a nice story instead. Many many years ago (I think 6 or 7), my mother ran her wonderful self-cleaning oven and it self-cleaned. The next day, she wiped it out. Then she left her shiny, clean oven waiting for Pesach cooking. The morning of Erev Pesach, she turned on her oven to start her roast, and... it didn't work. She quickly called the first repairman whose number she could find. Claude (yes, that's his name) amazingly was there within about 30 minutes, isolated the problem quickly, and within another 20 minutes, the oven was working again.
We've had Claude repair other poorly behaved appliances since. He fixed a fuse on my oven a few years back, and declared my dryer dead about 8 months ago (he said he could fix it, but the price of the repair wasn't enough less than the price of a new dryer.) So, when my washer stopped wringing out my clothes - leaving everything sopping wet, I said "0k, I'm going to call Claude." Yaakov, in his best Tim Allen imitation, decided that he was going to fix it. Which meant that he somehow got the entire floor soaked, and then declared that he needed more tools, so he'd have to do it the next day. Well... this is the week before Pesach. I really couldn't do without a washer while he was at work the next day. So I woke up and called Claude. I started to describe the problem...
"Wait, what kind of washer do you have?"
"Spectra, I think"
"Front or top load?"
"Front"
"Okay, there's a panel on the bottom right. Open it. Turn the round thing. The filter should come off. Is it dirty?"
"Yeah, filthy"
"Okay, empty it out into the trash, put it back in, and have a chag sameach!"
I was in shock. I mean, firstly, who knew that washers have filters?! I knew about dryers, but washers?! Second, that was just REALLY REALLY nice of him. He could have come out and "fixed" the machine and charged for labor, and been completely honest about it and I wouldn't have felt ripped off. So now, I know exactly who to call tomorrow morning about the oven that shorted out the whole house... I don't think there's an electricity filter in the oven...
So... it's time to blog! And I have the monopoly. My readers have no other blogs to read!
So I can bore you all with details about how I washed out my microwave even though we have a whole other microwave for Pesach... Or I can warn you that it's not a good idea to pour water into the oven to clean it. I could even tell you about the amount of stuff that I still have to do tomorrow.
But I think I'll relate a nice story instead. Many many years ago (I think 6 or 7), my mother ran her wonderful self-cleaning oven and it self-cleaned. The next day, she wiped it out. Then she left her shiny, clean oven waiting for Pesach cooking. The morning of Erev Pesach, she turned on her oven to start her roast, and... it didn't work. She quickly called the first repairman whose number she could find. Claude (yes, that's his name) amazingly was there within about 30 minutes, isolated the problem quickly, and within another 20 minutes, the oven was working again.
We've had Claude repair other poorly behaved appliances since. He fixed a fuse on my oven a few years back, and declared my dryer dead about 8 months ago (he said he could fix it, but the price of the repair wasn't enough less than the price of a new dryer.) So, when my washer stopped wringing out my clothes - leaving everything sopping wet, I said "0k, I'm going to call Claude." Yaakov, in his best Tim Allen imitation, decided that he was going to fix it. Which meant that he somehow got the entire floor soaked, and then declared that he needed more tools, so he'd have to do it the next day. Well... this is the week before Pesach. I really couldn't do without a washer while he was at work the next day. So I woke up and called Claude. I started to describe the problem...
"Wait, what kind of washer do you have?"
"Spectra, I think"
"Front or top load?"
"Front"
"Okay, there's a panel on the bottom right. Open it. Turn the round thing. The filter should come off. Is it dirty?"
"Yeah, filthy"
"Okay, empty it out into the trash, put it back in, and have a chag sameach!"
I was in shock. I mean, firstly, who knew that washers have filters?! I knew about dryers, but washers?! Second, that was just REALLY REALLY nice of him. He could have come out and "fixed" the machine and charged for labor, and been completely honest about it and I wouldn't have felt ripped off. So now, I know exactly who to call tomorrow morning about the oven that shorted out the whole house... I don't think there's an electricity filter in the oven...
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Ten Things NOT to Say to Your Wife During Pesach Cleaning
10. Watcha doin?
9. What's for dinner?
8. Why is there stuff on the bedroom floor?
7. We don't need to fix the washer this week.
6. Sure, I'll just make something to eat and take it into the other room and I'll be out of your way.
5. But I'm not in the mood for pizza.
4. But we ordered in/ate out last night too.
3. If you want, you can get a maid (when it's clearly too late to find one).
2. Why do you need to kasher the oven. I'm not going to be here during chol hamoed? (but wife is...)
and the number one thing not to say to your wife during Pesach cleaning.
1. Well, if you'd kept things cleaner, you wouldn't have this mess.
9. What's for dinner?
8. Why is there stuff on the bedroom floor?
7. We don't need to fix the washer this week.
6. Sure, I'll just make something to eat and take it into the other room and I'll be out of your way.
5. But I'm not in the mood for pizza.
4. But we ordered in/ate out last night too.
3. If you want, you can get a maid (when it's clearly too late to find one).
2. Why do you need to kasher the oven. I'm not going to be here during chol hamoed? (but wife is...)
and the number one thing not to say to your wife during Pesach cleaning.
1. Well, if you'd kept things cleaner, you wouldn't have this mess.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Avoiding Pesach Cleaning
Last year I didn't post about Pesach cleaning until later in the process. The following are the triLcat stages of Pesach cleaning, in case you're curious:
1. Eating up the chametz.
2. Procrastination
3. Desperate procrastination
4. Cleaning gestures
5. Extreme procrastination
6. Laundry and bedrooms
7. Ultra-Procrastination
8. Kitchen Cleaning
9. Collapse
10. Seder
Last year, I didn't write until I was at stage 7. This year, I'm only at stage 5. Fortunately, it turns out I was tagged on a Meme last year, so I have a great way to procrastinate.
Thanks Biur Chametz.
Here it is. The A-Z meme:
Accent:
American in English, just slightly funny in Hebrew. Americans think it's Israeli, though.
Booze:
Red wine and cocktails. These days, I'm sticking to Kedem grape juice though
Chore I Hate:
Washing dishes and floors both destroy my back. Everything else is just unpleasant.
Dogs/Cats:
Love dogs, especially MY dog. Cats are ok. I'll pet them if they ask.
Essential Electronics:
All electronics are essential! except the stupid tetris game I used to have. It never worked right anyway.
Favorite Perfume/Cologne:
I like most of the Dali ones, except the red one. It smells like candy.
Gold & Silver:
I prefer gold.
Hometown:
Modiin.
Insomnia:
High sleep latency.
Job Title:
Housewife
Kids:
1 Stepson and one baby on the way.
Living Arrangements:
Rental apartment.
Most Admired Trait:
Ability to be very empathetic.
Number of Sexual Partners:
Get your head out from under our covers!
Overnight Hospital Stays:
Entirely too many, but looking forward to my next one being in July and ending with me taking home a whole new person.
Phobia:
spiders, especially big yucky ones
Quote:
"Well, I like you. You're nice, and you're funny, and you don't smoke, and okay, werewolf but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either."
Religion:
Jewish
Siblings:
1 sister, 3 brothers
Time I Usually Wake Up:
Whenever Poofy can't wait any longer for his walk.
Unusual Talent:
That's Private!
Vegetable I Refuse To Eat:
Eggplant
Worst Habit:
Talking when I should shut up.
X-Rays:
I'd LOVE to have X-ray vision!
Yummy Foods I Make:
Everything I make is yummy. Yaakov likes my chicken with potatoes. People generally devour my lasagna. I always make too much stir-fry, but people like it.
Zodiac Sign:
I don't know, but my birthstone is a diamond and my Hebrew birthday is 2 days before Pesach. A good gift would involve help cleaning or the doggone covers for my couches!
1. Eating up the chametz.
2. Procrastination
3. Desperate procrastination
4. Cleaning gestures
5. Extreme procrastination
6. Laundry and bedrooms
7. Ultra-Procrastination
8. Kitchen Cleaning
9. Collapse
10. Seder
Last year, I didn't write until I was at stage 7. This year, I'm only at stage 5. Fortunately, it turns out I was tagged on a Meme last year, so I have a great way to procrastinate.
Thanks Biur Chametz.
Here it is. The A-Z meme:
Accent:
American in English, just slightly funny in Hebrew. Americans think it's Israeli, though.
Booze:
Red wine and cocktails. These days, I'm sticking to Kedem grape juice though
Chore I Hate:
Washing dishes and floors both destroy my back. Everything else is just unpleasant.
Dogs/Cats:
Love dogs, especially MY dog. Cats are ok. I'll pet them if they ask.
Essential Electronics:
All electronics are essential! except the stupid tetris game I used to have. It never worked right anyway.
Favorite Perfume/Cologne:
I like most of the Dali ones, except the red one. It smells like candy.
Gold & Silver:
I prefer gold.
Hometown:
Modiin.
Insomnia:
High sleep latency.
Job Title:
Housewife
Kids:
1 Stepson and one baby on the way.
Living Arrangements:
Rental apartment.
Most Admired Trait:
Ability to be very empathetic.
Number of Sexual Partners:
Get your head out from under our covers!
Overnight Hospital Stays:
Entirely too many, but looking forward to my next one being in July and ending with me taking home a whole new person.
Phobia:
spiders, especially big yucky ones
Quote:
"Well, I like you. You're nice, and you're funny, and you don't smoke, and okay, werewolf but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either."
Religion:
Jewish
Siblings:
1 sister, 3 brothers
Time I Usually Wake Up:
Whenever Poofy can't wait any longer for his walk.
Unusual Talent:
That's Private!
Vegetable I Refuse To Eat:
Eggplant
Worst Habit:
Talking when I should shut up.
X-Rays:
I'd LOVE to have X-ray vision!
Yummy Foods I Make:
Everything I make is yummy. Yaakov likes my chicken with potatoes. People generally devour my lasagna. I always make too much stir-fry, but people like it.
Zodiac Sign:
I don't know, but my birthstone is a diamond and my Hebrew birthday is 2 days before Pesach. A good gift would involve help cleaning or the doggone covers for my couches!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Goodbye, Ido Arad
This was never supposed to be a regular thing on this blog.When Shaindy passed on, I felt the need to pay a tribute to her for creating such an amazing academic program. When Teddy Kollek passed away, the loss was felt nationally. Ido's untimely death is something entirely different.
Ido Arad was my neighbor. He lived in the next building over. He and his wife and daughter moved a few blocks away several months ago, and I hadn't seen him often since then.
I got to know Ido a few years ago when I moved into this apartment, but I sort of knew him before that. He had davened at my synagogue for a while. I knew that my sister and her kids knew him too. He had the uncommon job (for a man) of being a kindergarten teacher. He'd worked in the afterschool program my nieces and nephew attended. More than that, he was one of the ones that parents actually liked, my sister included.
On Friday nights, a few of us walked home from synagogue together. I always joined the group - I hate walking alone. Ido was part of that group. He was always listening, joking, smiling.
When I'd walk my dog, sometimes I'd catch a glimpse of him and his family eating dinner together. I remember thinking how warm and cozy his family dinners looked. When he sold his apartment, I wished I could buy it, because such a warm family had lived there that I would want to live in that warmth.
Last summer, during the war in Lebanon, Yaakov and I were coming back from Tel Aviv one evening, and Ido met us at the train station. He was in uniform, heading back from his assignment in the north. When I asked him how he was, he said he was tired, but overall, just happy to be getting home to his wife and daughter. When we got on the bus, he apologetically ended our conversation so that he could get some sleep.
On Friday, Ido was driving home for Shabbat. He never made it home. His car went off the road, into the foundation of a building site, falling some 15 meters.
On Sunday, we buried Ido. The rabbis who spoke at his funeral couldn't contain their tears. Men and women alike cried openly. Everyone who spoke about Ido said the same things - they said that he always had a smile for everyone, always had a kind word. They said that he was full of joy. So many people really loved Ido. Why does G-d take such beautiful people away from us?
* The picture in this post is of Ido with a girl who was in his kindergarten. I was unable to find a picture of him alone or with his wife and daughter.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Ten Good Things to do While Your Wife is Napping
10. Teach the dog to "speak."
9. Practice your yodeling.
8. Install curtains.
7. Clean out your toolbox.
6. Vacuum the keyboard.
5. Wash the bedroom floor.
4. Install a doorbell.
3. Make the bed.
2. Practice your juggling routine (complete with music and comedy routine.)
1. Prepare to be a Baal Tekiya for Rosh Hashana.
9. Practice your yodeling.
8. Install curtains.
7. Clean out your toolbox.
6. Vacuum the keyboard.
5. Wash the bedroom floor.
4. Install a doorbell.
3. Make the bed.
2. Practice your juggling routine (complete with music and comedy routine.)
1. Prepare to be a Baal Tekiya for Rosh Hashana.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Who's the Baby?
On one of my recent posts, a friend commented on the fact that we've chosen not to know our baby's gender.
The comment was "seems odd to me. You have soooooo many surprises in line for you, and I'm not talking about the color of hair and eyes, I mean will that kid like reading or playing ball, will she be curious, mathematical, spiritual, difficult or easy? will he have good or bad coordination, will she be a picky eater or not? The very least you can do is at least know the gender so you can prepare the clothes, crib color and all :-)"
Well, here's the thing. Actually, some research has shown that parents who *do* know the gender before birth have difficulty bonding with their babies, because they have more of a picture in their mind of what "a girl" or "a boy" should be. Oftentimes, their particular girl or boy is not at all like what they expect. My husband, for example, thinks that girls like to organize things and put them away neatly. He obviously never met me... He thinks boys like to take everything apart and leave a big mess. He obviously never met my oldest brother. So that's one argument against knowing.
Secondly, I'm not a superstitious person, but I do subscribe to the tradition of not buying things for the baby before the baby is born. Most of my readers are now saying "yeah, right, you're not superstitious. uh huh! we know all about you." My mother, on the other hand, is probably nodding her head.
Many years ago, my father had the experience of visiting at the home of a bereaved couple after a stillbirth. There was a perfect nursery, with sweet curtains and a crib and pastel-painted walls. There were teddy bears and rattles and pacifiers. And there was a huge empty space that should have been occupied by a baby. It's unlikely, but it's not impossible. These things happen.
On the other hand, the room we plan to use for the baby has already been painted as a baby's room - the previous owners had two children in that room. We also plan to have the baby in a bassinet in our room for the first few months. We'll use that time to finish any decoration of the baby's room.
Next comes the very basic issue of the fact that ultrasound is only about 85% accurate. Which means that if you are "mentally prepared" for one or the other, there's a 15% chance that you'll have to make a pretty radical readjustment.
Finally, in some ways, we'd like to know (although we have possible names picked out for both a boy and a girl) but we don't want to tell other people. If we know, one of us (the one who has the baby inside of her) has a slightly big mouth... and probably we would end up telling everyone else... so we're going to stick to not knowing.
And one more thing to the guy who asked me... If you've never been pregnant, you really don't know how it feels. I didn't know how it felt until I was pregnant. I always assumed that most women wouldn't want to know, but I was told by the dr who did my ultrasound that about 90% of women he sees *do* want to know - and honestly, I understand the wanting to know. It's just not for me.
Shabbat Shalom,
t.c.
The comment was "seems odd to me. You have soooooo many surprises in line for you, and I'm not talking about the color of hair and eyes, I mean will that kid like reading or playing ball, will she be curious, mathematical, spiritual, difficult or easy? will he have good or bad coordination, will she be a picky eater or not? The very least you can do is at least know the gender so you can prepare the clothes, crib color and all :-)"
Well, here's the thing. Actually, some research has shown that parents who *do* know the gender before birth have difficulty bonding with their babies, because they have more of a picture in their mind of what "a girl" or "a boy" should be. Oftentimes, their particular girl or boy is not at all like what they expect. My husband, for example, thinks that girls like to organize things and put them away neatly. He obviously never met me... He thinks boys like to take everything apart and leave a big mess. He obviously never met my oldest brother. So that's one argument against knowing.
Secondly, I'm not a superstitious person, but I do subscribe to the tradition of not buying things for the baby before the baby is born. Most of my readers are now saying "yeah, right, you're not superstitious. uh huh! we know all about you." My mother, on the other hand, is probably nodding her head.
Many years ago, my father had the experience of visiting at the home of a bereaved couple after a stillbirth. There was a perfect nursery, with sweet curtains and a crib and pastel-painted walls. There were teddy bears and rattles and pacifiers. And there was a huge empty space that should have been occupied by a baby. It's unlikely, but it's not impossible. These things happen.
On the other hand, the room we plan to use for the baby has already been painted as a baby's room - the previous owners had two children in that room. We also plan to have the baby in a bassinet in our room for the first few months. We'll use that time to finish any decoration of the baby's room.
Next comes the very basic issue of the fact that ultrasound is only about 85% accurate. Which means that if you are "mentally prepared" for one or the other, there's a 15% chance that you'll have to make a pretty radical readjustment.
Finally, in some ways, we'd like to know (although we have possible names picked out for both a boy and a girl) but we don't want to tell other people. If we know, one of us (the one who has the baby inside of her) has a slightly big mouth... and probably we would end up telling everyone else... so we're going to stick to not knowing.
And one more thing to the guy who asked me... If you've never been pregnant, you really don't know how it feels. I didn't know how it felt until I was pregnant. I always assumed that most women wouldn't want to know, but I was told by the dr who did my ultrasound that about 90% of women he sees *do* want to know - and honestly, I understand the wanting to know. It's just not for me.
Shabbat Shalom,
t.c.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Movin' Right Along
First and foremost, since Passover is around the corner, I need to encourage you all to watch a silly Passover video. This will help those of you who are miserable about your Passover cleaning to realize that you're not alone. Here's a link to the original Margaritaville song by Jimmy Buffett.
Second, yesterday was the first time that there were kicks visible through the skin. I was at my neighbor's house, and all of a sudden I realized that I actually could not just FEEL Baby G., I could SEE my dress moving. It was INCREDIBLE! It wasn't easy to see, and it only happened a few times (my neighbor kept missing it), but I felt my baby and I SAW him/her.
In case anyone is wondering, we don't know whether it's a boy or girl. The doctor told us that he knows, but we have chosen to keep it a surprise. Lately, I've been feeling like it's a boy, but before that I felt like it was a girl, so I'm not giving my gut too much credence at this point.
I guess that's it for now.
t.c. Goodman
Second, yesterday was the first time that there were kicks visible through the skin. I was at my neighbor's house, and all of a sudden I realized that I actually could not just FEEL Baby G., I could SEE my dress moving. It was INCREDIBLE! It wasn't easy to see, and it only happened a few times (my neighbor kept missing it), but I felt my baby and I SAW him/her.
In case anyone is wondering, we don't know whether it's a boy or girl. The doctor told us that he knows, but we have chosen to keep it a surprise. Lately, I've been feeling like it's a boy, but before that I felt like it was a girl, so I'm not giving my gut too much credence at this point.
I guess that's it for now.
t.c. Goodman
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