Adventures in Mama-Land

I get it.  We're all isolated, or at least, most of us are.  We're home with kids.  It's exasperating. How are you holding up? If you’re like lots of people I'm hearing from -- and the eerily similar memes they’re sharing – you’re thinking one of a few things: a) this is why I'm not cut out for homeschooling b) this is why I didn't homeschool my kids c) homeschooling is killing me !!! Sometimes, this disgust / exasperation is cleverly disguised as admiration for people who DO homeschool, but it basically comes down to the same thing -- homeschoolers must be nuts. And I totally feel for you.  I’m absolutely certain you’re going out of your tree with rangy kids running around begging you for their next snack or meal or whatever it is. (I created this helpful guide to aid GZ in understanding what he was allowed to snack on right before supper…) Look, I don't speak for anybody.  Heck, I'm not even a homeschooler anymore.  So maybe somebody else can ...

How often do you lie down with your kids?  When they're little, obviously, it happens all the time, when you're nursing them, or trying to coax them to sleep.  These days, with my youngest kids 12 and 14 years old, I don't really have an excuse anymore. But really, why don't we? Why not lie down with your kids, cuddle them, cherish them?  Hold onto them not in a way that's clingy and all about our needs, as parents and imperfect human beings, but about them and how special and unique they are? Sometimes, when I start out writing about something, whether it's a blog or story or article, I don't know exactly what it's about until I get to the end.  Maybe, if you write, this happens to you, too? And then at the end, there’s this "aha" moment, and I realize what was really on my mind the whole time.  After I wrote almost this entire post, I looked back and was startled to realize that it probably emerged here and now because of the spectr...

Not long after we moved to Israel, I found Naomi Rivka, who was 8 at the time, playing with her Barbies.  The Barbies were all dressed up, as usual, but there was something new: one the head of one, Naomi Rivka had wound a delicate assemblage of toilet paper and lace, towering high and graceful over the doll's pretty, slender face. Here in Israel, we were suddenly surrounded by beautiful, graceful, slender young married Sephardi women, for whom a tichel, piled as high as possible, is the de rigeur headware -- and that was exactly how Naomi Rivka wanted her Barbie to look. And because 8-year-old girls are reasonably transparent, chances were good that that was how she herself wanted to look someday.  Tall, slim, high cheekbones, okay... those may be genetic factors.  But gloriously crowned in a high, swirling tichel... that's something you learn from your environment.  That's something little girls pick up from looking around and role playing years, and even decades...

You know how we're supposed to be modest and not go shouting our accomplishments from the rooftops? Well, sometimes, I'm a little too modest.  And then I need a talking-to from my miniature Social Media Coordinator, aka Naomi Rivka, age 13. Sitting around the Shabbos table, I mentioned that I'd finally finished my book of parsha poems, The Rhyming Torah .  And she asked the obvious question:  “So are you going to let people know?” As a busy little social media bug, she knows all about the ins and outs making your way to fame and fortune on the busy, busy internet of today.  And as my kid, obviously she wants me to succeed.  But I had to be honest. “I don’t know…” I said.  “I hadn’t really thought about it.” “Well, you at least have to tell your blog,” she announced. So that’s where this post comes in. I don’t usually do launches for my books, self-published or otherwise, but I probably should.  I’ve had a few just in the past year, and I believe each...

It's been five years since we gave up the family car. Sometimes I don't think about that huge change, because it came at a time of so many other huge changes in our lives.  But I realized today it was worth stopping for a moment and reflect back on what that's meant and how we are with it. For about 15 years, I was a Mom on Wheels.  I had the big family car and drove it almost everywhere.  And it was a huge part of my identity even if I didn't like to admit it. I didn't start out that way... although to be honest, who does? And incongruously enough, I always thought of myself as more of a public transportation person.  I guess that's cognitive dissonance for you.  I took public transportation everywhere -- except when I drove the car, which much of the time was ALWAYS. And the shameful truth is, I quickly came to love being behind the wheel.  How could you not?  You're in charge.  You set the schedule -- although traffic sometimes has somethi...

Spotted this lying on the table last night. Recognize it? Right—it’s a wallet. Specifically, it’s a kid’s wallet, my kid’s. My baby’s wallet, property of my 10-year-old baby boy. Which is hilarious, if you think about it. When YM was just a newborn, he had some little prescription we needed to fill, and my husband couldn’t stop staring at the piece of paper with his name on it. “He has his own prescription,” my husband said, in awe and wonder. Two weeks before, he hadn’t existed, hadn’t even been a “he,” as far as we were concerned. And now he had his own documents, a health card, a doctor, an identity. He was a person. But of course, for the first little while, it’s just a joke. You joke about his brand-new ID, or the well-meaning friend who made out a baby-gift cheque in the baby’s name, or some letter he gets in the mail from the government. Later, you laugh about his library card, his swimming lesson registration, , his college savings account, his nursery “school.” Because none ...

It’s finally here!!!  These are my advance author copies.  The actual book is being released exactly two years from when I submitted it to Apples & Honey Press, which is almost lightning speed in the children’s-book industry. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then surely a video is worth a couple million pictures.  Here you go! But just in case you’re the type who prefers pictures… Here are NR & GZ, hamming it up and pulling out the first copies… This is where I told GZ, “Feign an expression of delight!” I think he literally has no idea what human emotions are or how they work. Now… displaying

Well, we're back in the homeschooling saddle, if only for a few days before I'm heading off on a crazy-stupid two-day gallivant across Europe. The entire month before summer vacation, every Israeli parents' WhatsApp group is on fire with camp registrations and plans to ensure that our beloved sweeties don't have to go more than ten minutes without a “misgeret ,” or framework.  It's mostly for the parents' benefit, so they don’t have to miss work, which I get, but I also believe kids need a break.  I mean, school let out last Friday, and on Sunday morning, most of my kids' friends were off to the various "day camps" run by the schools. That one Shabbos can't have felt like much of a vacation. I was wondering how it would go with summerschooling this year, because NR is getting older and GZ is the same amount of stubborn as always, or perhaps more so with age.  But if these last 3 days are any indication, it's actually going better than in...

I just caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection, in a car window, on my way to the train station. “Wow,” I thought.  “That sure does look like the real deal.” What do I mean by the real deal ? Well, you know .  Okay, I’ll come out and say it.  A 40-something frum woman, hair covered, a little dumpy, a little boring, pretty content with her quiet life off somewhere in Nowhereville, Israel, following the ways of Hashem.  You’d never know I was only faking it. Becoming a baalas teshuvah in my early 20s, fitting in was super-important, because if you think about it, I was kind of in freefall.  I’d given up a whole lot – friends, beliefs, even, to some extent, family.  So being accepted was kind of a matter of survival – if I wasn’t accepted, I’d be all alone. So when did I stop caring? I don’t know if I ever did, but

For Israeli parents, one word seems like the absolute number-one most important to remember – yes, even before Bamba and Shoko beSakit (chocolate milk in a bag, a staple of childhood here):  Misgeret. Misgeret (מִסְגֶּרֶת) literally means “frame.”  This is a misgeret: And so is this: And so is this: Because the other meaning of the word “Misgeret” is “where you put your kids.”  In English, you might say something like “structure” or “system” or “framework.”  But I don’t know if you’d panic about it in quite the way parents here do. Sure, like working parents everywhere, Israeli parents want to make sure they can work without disruption by kids’ days off, summer vacation, etc.  So structure is important for that.  But it’s more than that.  I think parenting here used to be more laid-back, until maybe a decade ago when people started panicking about math and science scores and keeping up with the rest of the world, and now the biggest reason fo...

As I sit here, late at night, the Ministry of Education is debating when Lag Baomer will be .  Bet you thought they’d figured that out years ago, but nope.  First, they pushed it off to the following day (“Lad” Baomer?), but now critics are saying that was illegal and they should put it back. Lag Baomer is less than a week away as they sit and debate. Which is great.  I can sit here and chuckle at how nuts this place is, that they can’t even figure out when to do their government holidays.  Maybe in another 69 years, they’ll have it all hammered out.  In the meantime – we don’t know which day the kids will have off school. For me, this isn’t a problem.  That’s how come I can sit here chuckling.  But for hundreds of thousands of parents all over the country, it’s no chuckling matter. It’s not a problem for me because I’m home anyway. In this country, built on socialism, pioneering work ethic, high taxes and low incomes, I’m a rare bird: a mom who ...

The biggest musical sensation here in Israel this winter / spring is a small and strange song called “Geshem, Geshem,” written by Jihan Jaber, an Israeli Arab Hebrew teacher who wanted to give her students an easy, fun way to learn Hebrew. And if she can use it to teach kids Hebrew… why can’t you? GZ is totally into the darbuka, a simple little drum that apparently he’s been learning in music class at school.  This is the original and easiest accompaniment for this song (see video below), but really, whatever percussion instrument you have will do. I’ve created a cute little mini-book that you can print, staple, and read / sing with kids. There’s also a completely blank version so kids can add their own illustrations before cutting out the individual pages.  I’ve moved the text a little here so there’s as much room for creativity as possible on each page:

So the Rony Pony baby is… um, not exactly a baby anymore? When did that happen?  We just woke up one day and – well – you know.  All the cliche stuff.  It’s all true. I started this blog, of course, to blog about her infancy and the joy of being with all four of my children every single day – or at least, of feeding them supper every day, of diapering them every day, of homeschooling them every day.  After a decade of being a single and working mama, it felt like a miracle a lot of the time. Now, a big chunk of that period is behind me.  Probably a lesser person would get a new blog and move on, but this is my home, and it’s okay to redecorate from time to time as our lifestyle changes.  True, I don’t come home very often these days, but when I do, it’s happy-making to be here. Here’s what I said at the not-so-big event last week.  We made a challah-making party for the girls in her class.  No shtick, no DJs, no craziness.  It was very D...

Scared to vaccinate?  Don’t worry, you’re not alone.  Tons of people – generally intelligent, thoughtful, loving moms, are petrified that they’re going to subject their baby to a procedure that’s going to wind up causing problems. It’s the ultimate nightmare:  you deliver your happy, healthy, kicking, sunny baby to a doctor for a needle.  After a few hours of screaming, the baby settles down, and you’re thankful that it’s over… until a few weeks later when your baby starts to CHANGE. I’ve read Jenny McCarthy’s book and tons of blogs and articles from mamas who have experienced this or something very much like it. I read so many that by the time my third child was born, I decided not to vaccinate.  I had already vaccinated the first two, but I figured it wasn’t too late.  I was doing everything differently:  warmer, fuzzier, more bonded, more attachment, more nurturing; cloth diapering, breastfeeding, babywearing.  I was a brand-new mom....

Eight years is a long time.   Eight doesn’t seem like a special number at first, unless you’re Chinese, and then, I’m told, it’s extremely lucky.  But even in Judaism, eight is a special number: it means one more than nature, as we see in connection with bris milah and the eight-day miracle of Chanukah. It’s also my shoe size, if you don’t count the half. When it comes to a yahrzeit, eight feels like the first "big" number, the first time you can't honestly say "it's only been a few years..." Today, we sat basically at the same bus stop where we sat across from the Merkazit (central station) in Yerushalayim eight years ago.  Today, we were minus two kids in one way, but minus four kids in another, because the two who were babies then have magically been replaced by two who are quite a bit older and smarter (and GZ can walk now, which is a plus). Today, we didn’t do anything we haven’t done before:

I shared this post last week on Facebook asking why so many Jewish kids' books are so awful.  Lots and lots and lots of people clicked Like.  Some even shared it.  But very few people actually answered the question, so I’m asking it again here. What do you think?  Why is there so much bad Jewish children’s literature? Before we start, though, here’s another picture from Shmelf the Hanukkah Elf , the masterpiece that kicked off this whole controversy. Yup, a nice Jewish story to share with your Jewish kids for any Jewish time of year! I don’t want to write too much because for once, I really do want to hear what you have to say.  But just to get those brain-thoughts flowing….Here are some comments that a few people did post on Facebook:

Before, I begin, I want to say that there are few people who adore Lego as much as I do.  OK, if you're one of those fans who can tell the difference between a BURP a LUMP and a POOP [ glossary here ], then good for you.  You win. But short of that, well, I adore Lego. REAL Lego. For years, in Toronto, I made a habit of picking up used Lego for the kids at Value Village.  Painstakingly, I'd pick through the sets chucking out any FAKE Lego - all the Megabloks and other imposters, weeding them out like toxins. But here in Israel, Lego is expensive.  Ridiculously expensive.  Like over 100nis for a tiny set that would cost under $10 in the States, and maybe $12-15 in Canada. So, I admit - painfully, reluctantly - I've started buying the fake stuff. It started last summer when I happened to show Gavriel Zev some of the super hero menschies (I know, they're called minifigures – I call them minifigs for short) that were available on AliExpress for 99 cents inst...

Looking for a sukkah craft for slightly older kids that hasn't been done to death? I totally was, because we're making GZ's birthday party in the sukkah and I wanted to do some kind of simple craft that would appeal to the boys without being too fiddly. I eventually found this post about a Xmas craft, and decided that, writ slightly larger, these would make terrific sukkah decorations.  They have all the elements I love - namely, tinfoil, glue and Sharpies (!!!) PLUS they don't take much time for 8-year-old boys' attention span. And I think they look terrific - shiny and bright to light up any family's sukkah. Here’s what you'll need: - Cardboard circles - I used a bowl with a diameter of about 5.5" to cut these babies out.  The originals are much too tiny to see at night in a sukkah!  I used fairly thick cardboard from a box that held a six-pack of soda bottles. - Yarn - original post says fine yarn, but I blew this up accordingly to a medium-wei...

We’re back to summer schooling, which includes weekly book reports / reviews (I know there’s a difference, but whatever…).  I thought it would be fun to share a list of book reviews my kids have written over the last however-many years, mainly during the summer. Hopefully, I’ll update this list as the kids create new reviews.  I’ve vowed that I’m going to make them write one new review each week for the remaining 7 weeks of summer… (NOTE:  Some of the links are messed up.  I have vowed to fix them but it seems like it’s not going to happen until summer is over.  Forgive me if you hit a broken one!) Almost a Winner (Teddy Mars) - Funny and interesting, a review by GZ, age 8         The BFG – A Great Classic, Review by YM, age 12 and GZ, age 8       The Fourteenth Goldfish -  A fun and suspenseful story, a review by NRM, age 11         Schooled by Gordon Korman, Review by NR, age 11 ...

Let me tell you a thing you might already know about sea turtles:  they live in the sea. Obvious, right?  Except the one time a sea turtle comes out of the sea is a female turtle, when she’s ready to lay eggs.  She crawls up onto land, digs a pit and lays her eggs there.  Then, it’s back into the sea with her. So what happens to the eggs?  They need a miracle, that’s what.  When they hatch, the baby turtles are on their own.  They need a mad dash to the sea to get themselves covered and protected by the water before Very Bad Things can happen.  Bad things like predators.  Like dehydration. Because they are sea turtles, they can only survive in the sea.  But their eggs can only incubate on land.  So the mad dash is inevitable – it is essential for their own survival. This is like us, as Jewish mothers.  (Hint:  the water, as always, is Torah.) I met a young couple once who'd adopted a baby from China.  I wa...