Frume Sarah's World

Change-of-Address

2007-07-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

Greetings loyal FS readers!

I have decided to make a change. You can follow the continued adventures of Frume Sarah at http://www.frumesarah.com/.

Many thanks!

Watch out -- (Learning) Curve Ahead!

2007-07-10T17:02:00.000-07:00

It was a wise decision to start Peach in daycare a few days before my return to work. I am determined to get my act together by then. This Friday, that is.

Yesterday's exit from the house was a little frazzled. But I managed to remember all the bags, bedding, bottles, pump, and so forth. Couldn't locate Beernut's lunchbox so I sent him with his old "Thomas the Tank Engine" lunch bag. PC mentioned that was a social gaffe so I made a mental note to replace the lunch box ASAP. I was a little dismayed to find that not only was our favourite teacher sick for the day (and out for the week) but that our least favourite teacher is going to be in the Infant-Toddler Center for another week or so until she is moved to another classroom. But I managed to overlook that minor annoyance and go about my day.

A friend of mine had offered to take me out and do anything I wanted in order to get my mind off of the baby. I decided that a long-leisurely lunch at the Cheesecake Factory was just the thing. I had it all planned out; run a few errands (such as picking up the replacement lunch box for Beernut), pump, and then meet up with my friend. And it was all going according to plan...until...

I realized that although I had remembered to bring the pump, the tubing, the vehicle lighter adapter, the ice packs, and the collection bottles, I somehow managed to forget the breastshields which are necessary for actually collecting the milk.

{AAARRRRRGH!!!}

A choice to make -- cancel my lunch in order to return home and pump OR cancel pumping for the day and feed Peach at pick-up. I really think that if this had happened with my first baby, I would have totally freaked out! As the experienced mom that I am, I calmly decided that going a few hours without pumping would be OK. Going home and seeing the empty crib and all the lonesome baby items would not have been OK.

It was a very good decision. Spending time with a friend is a truly underrated necessity that should be a regularity rather than a luxury. I was reminded how calming it can be to visit with a friend.

I was acutely aware, of course, of my ever-enlarging breast which continues to grow heavy with milk throughout the course of our (wonderful) meal.

And it goes without saying that Peach had finished a bottle about five minutes before my arrival...

So we learn from our missteps, right?

Today I was extremely careful to check and recheck the pump. And I felt pretty good about that too.

Of course, in the midst of all that diligence, I forgot to drop off Beernut's medication in the camp office and had to double-back.

But hey, tomorrow's another day.

Growing

2007-07-09T19:05:00.000-07:00

It was a long day without my little man by my side. I managed to load the car in under 5 trips this morning and we dropped Beernut at camp before heading over to the pre-school. Poppyseed had asked to help drop off her little brother and was actually quite a big help. She entertained him while I was busy organizing his diapers, wipes, extra clothes, bedding, bottles, frozen milk, etc. We nursed and then it was time to let go.

Because that is really what today was all about; letting go of my baby.

When I explained to the older kids this morning (after snapping at them) that I was a bit nervous today, Poppyseed replied, "I'm nervous too."

"Really? What are you nervous about?" I asked.

"I don't want Peach to grow up yet," she replied.

I understand what she means. Peach was not only my largest baby at birth, but he weighes what Poppyseed did at her NINE MONTH checkup! Wearing 3-6 mos clothing and size 2 diapers, his journey through infancy is passing with such dizzying speed that I cannot catch my breath. "Slow down," I whisper as I watch him sleep. "Don't grow up so fast." But each child grows as he or she is meant to grow. It is selfish to wish time to slow its march.

Yet, I watch helplessly as my children grow...up...and apart from me.

Which is as it should be.

The Night Before...

2007-07-08T21:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't written in a couple of weeks. It's been crazy busy! My schedule is about to free up because {sigh} Peach is starting "school" tomorrow. This is in anticipation of my return to work on Friday.

We visited Peach's classroom last week. He will be attending the same school as his big sister, Poppyseed, who is thrilled to pieces that her little brother will be at her school. He'll be in her old classroom and will even have one of her beloved teachers from when she first started in the Infant-Toddler Center three years ago. The continuity is definitely nice. And it put my mind at ease when we saw Ms. B who called Peach "tateleh" and "bubbeleh". She clearly speaks our language!

Everything is all set. I've got his linens washed and folded, extra clothes, diapers, and wipes all packed and ready to go. He hasn't slept well today but maybe he is like a dog and senses something in the air. I have been pumping like crazy and have exceeded my goal of freezing at least 100 ounces of milk. Now I just have to get through tomorow...

One is the Loneliest Number

2007-06-21T21:14:00.000-07:00

First off, it really pays to have friends. Not only did I not have to buy a new computer, but I didn't have to send it anywhere to get it fixed!! My good friend's husband is an IT guy and was able to make it better than it was before -- and that is a good thing. So Frume Sarah is up and running once again.

What a long week. PC has been in NYC since last weekend for work, though he has managed to hang out with all of my NYC sibs at least twice. This has left me with all three kids. With many thanks to our wonderful sitter, I did manage to get out for about an hour by myself tonight. It was just to run errands, but even that is relaxing when I am all alone ;) It was the first time that I've been away from the baby -- with the exception of a 6 minute (round trip) visit to Golden Spoon -- since he was born nearly 10 weeks ago.

It was lovely to get out but...
the truth is...

I missed him.

I missed him in the way one misses her first love when he leaves the room. A sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach.

I knew I needed to do this so that I can steel myself when I return to work in 3 short weeks. Peach will start day care a few days prior to my return so that we can both acclimate to the separation.

Of course, when I leave him in day care, I will leave him with ample bottles of milk, which was not the case tonight. Tonight, I was banking on fact that he was completely conked out after a 40 minute crying jag. Which was not his fault. He woke up hungry just as we got tied up in traffic on the darn 405. He was shaking, poor guy, when I finally released him from his car seat. He whimpered for a few moments, gave a shudder, and passed out in my arms.

That was 4 hours ago...

Give 100% of My Regards to Broadway!

2007-06-17T15:02:00.000-07:00

I love these quizes! Especially when I get all the answers correct ;) All those years of high school musicals and choral singing definitely comes in handy when playing Jeopardy or silly little internet quizes. If you give this one a try, let me know how you do!!

In computer news, I will be purchasing a new one this week. Not having a computer is making me crazy. And not just a little crazy either...

Scootin' Right Along

2007-06-15T14:40:00.000-07:00

A big week. Peach turned two months old, Poppyseed celebrated her 4th birthday, and Beernut has successfully completed the first grade. My babies are growing up right before my eyes and I can't seem to slow the passage of time. Peach's big accomplishment, besides bestowing his winning smile on his adoring siblings, is scooting around on his tummy. Especially if the right motivation catches his attention!! Poppyseed keeps remarking how much taller she is or how much longer her legs are now that she is four (her birthday was only yesterday). Beernut has been weepy all week in anticipation of bidding farewell to his beloved teacher. She has been so incredible and made first grade a very positive experience for Beernut. We'll be getting together with her over the summer -- a prospect which lessened the pain of leaving the classroom for Beernut.

Frume Sarah apologizes for the lack of posts this week. Unfortunately, this was the week that our hard drive quit without giving any notice. Noe. Zilch. Just wouldn't turn on one morning. So now we must decide which makes more sense; repair the 4 year old computer...or invest in a new one.

Well, that is all for the time being. PC has been in Dallas this week, will be in NYC for a week starting tomorrow, and then will return to NYC the following week.

And the beat goes on...

This and That

2007-06-10T21:36:00.000-07:00

I keep a running blog in my head most of the day -- but until they have discovered a way for thoughts to print directly to the blog...

Well, anyway...

Quite a week this past week was. We'll start with Beernut. Poor Beernut. Having finally finished his soft food diet due to the "accident" last month, Beernut developed pink eye in his left eye. 5 days of drops (twice daily) was awful enough -- until it moved to the right eye and we had to extend the drop administration. Ugh! His school had the 10th annual Dance Day and he proudly danced the Hokey Pokey with the rest of the first graders.

During the dance program, I got to chatting with some of the other moms. You know the ones. The "other moms." The ones who volunteer hours upon hours in the classrooms, know all the mommy tricks, and have everything pulled together all of the time.

In other words, not me.

So I was talking to our Room Moms about the end of the year party. Turns out that Beernut's last day of school is this week. Guess I didn't get that memo. For some reason, I thought that it was next week. Anyway, one of our Room Moms is the co-president of the PTO and other one, in addition to chasing after her 4 kids with nary a hair out-of-place, is the Room Mom for TWO of her kids. How DO these women do it??

I took the opportunity to ask the PTO president if there was any way to move the Fall Family Fun Night off of a Friday night and onto a Thursday night. She told me that it was always done on a Friday. I pointed out that there was a time that it was on Thursdays. She didn't realize that Jews had their Sabbath on Fridays (thought it was just a Saturday thing) and told me that we couldn't move it just to accomodate a few families.

Guess we'll be missing it again next year...

Lil' Miss Poppyseed completed her year in the 3 year old classroom.

Starting the in the fall, our little girl will be in Pre-Kindergarten. That just doesn't seem possible. She is such a big girl! She is spending the weekend with PC's parents down in San Diego, allowing us to enjoy "the boys" and have some quality time with Beernut. (Peach is too little to understand "quality time.")

BTW -- Beernut has figured out why he and Poppyseed don't listen to me.

"You're not scary enough, Mom."
"I don't want to be scary."
"But if you're not scary, we won't listen to you."

Terrific.

Free Movies for Kids

2007-06-03T21:54:00.000-07:00

Seriously!!

Many thanks to Verbatim for linking to this article.

Tell your friends/kids/grandkids/neighbours...

Sometimes good enough is...good enough

2007-05-31T23:41:00.000-07:00

I have to keep reminding myself that I just had a baby a few weeks ago.

It isn't that I actually forget, for course. Not with Peach reminding me that he needs to eat every couple of hours ;)

What I do forgot is that I can't get everything done in the amount of time allotted to me each day. And I still have never been good at saying "no" to requests. So of course I was the first parent to volunteer to bake 4 dozen cookies for the oneg tomorrow night. I was actually hoping to use my new favourite chocolate chip recipe that I found from my new blog-friend, Hilary. And yet as the week progressed, and the fatigue progressed, it became clear that baking from scratch was going to be too labour-intensive.

Thank God for Nestle Refrigerated Cookie Dough. It just doesn't get easier than this!!
Admitedly, they won't be as delicious as completely homemade. But they will be a marked improvement over store-bought. Not fabulous, but good enough.

11.12

2007-05-30T19:24:00.000-07:00

That is the current weight of my almost 7 week-old son!

Eleven pounds, twelve ounces.

That's over three pounds in the past month. And it is music to my ears!!

Like most of us reared in the 50's, 60's, and 70's, I was fed formula and did not see other women nursing their babies. In fact, the first woman I recall breastfeeding is MrsGiraffe's sister, TanteBee. TanteBee was one of those new-fangled mothers who worked outside the home, used her maiden name as her middle name, and used her breast to feed her babies.

In other words, it was weird. At least, that is what I thought as an impressionable ten year old.

I was fed formula as were my siblings. My parents were fed formula as were their siblings. If it was good enough for us, it would be good enough for my babies. As a girl, I pretended to feed my dolls with toy bottles. If it was good enough for me, it was good enough for them. As I grew up, I figured that nursing must not be natural. After all, there were many books, classes, and support groups devoted to teaching women how to breastfeed. If it was natural, it should come -- naturally.

And yet...we humans are mammals. And the classification of a mammal is a vertebrate animal characterized by the production of milk in the females. The mammary glands are used to nourish the young. So in fact, nursing is natural. A natural, but lost, behaviour.

In the animal kingdom, and in more primitive cultures, young females observe mothers with their nurslings and are later surrounded by supportive and experienced nursers as they, in turn, become mothers. Our books, consultants, and classes are poor substitutes for these observable behaviours.

I nursed our first two children, but I never felt successful. I worried constantly that I was not producing enough milk -- an all too common misconception for it is extremely rare for a woman to be unable to produce enough milk to feed her baby. One of the pediatricians told me that my first-born son was not getting enough to eat. Not getting enough to eat?? You never tell a yiddishe mama that her poor little boychik isn't getting enough to eat. And so we supplemented with formula in order to satisfy him. Is it any wonder that I did not feel adequate? After I returned to work, I found it difficult to find time to pump and this did affect my milk supply. Beernut nursed for eleven months and Poppyseed nursed for seven. It did not occur to me to regard breastfeeding as anything other than a source of nourishment for my children.

I wanted my experience to be different with Peach. So I began to read the experiences of other mothers and have discovered that nursing goes beyond the feeding of a child. It can have profound physical and emotional impacts on the mother. It can have spiritual ones as well. The human body is an amazing creation. My milk is perfectly suited to the growing needs of my child. Human milk, for instance, contains a high percentage of lactose and fatty acids -- both required for the rapid brain development of a human infant. Contrast this with cow's milk which contains a high level of protein -- required for the rapid bone development needed by a calf who is mobile just hours after birth. The amount of milk my baby needs on any given day will fluctuate and my body will respond to his needs by manufacturing the right amount. The miracle of life does not end with birth...

Peach's weight gain is validation. Validation that I am making good choices about how I am mothering him - and in ways that differ from how I mothered his siblings. The selection of a supportive pediatrician makes all the difference in the world. Our doctor visits are like private La Leche meetings as he encourages my efforts.

And, of course, don't forget the water!! Though I have backed away from the 4 litres a day that I had been consuming during the waning days of gestation, I find that 2-3 daily litres keeps me satiated.

Every generation relies on the advice given by the medical community. Recognizing that trends change, I know that my parents made informed choices based on the information that they had available to them at the time. Just as I am doing with my children and they will do with their children. Just as my parents probably question some of these choices, so too will my children question mine.

In the meantime, my nursling is currently content and with a dreamy smile on his sweet lips as he sleeps happily in his bassinet -- which is next to my bed -- knowing that I am near and ready to respond to his needs.

Lailah tov...

Colour Appreciation

2007-05-27T21:36:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week, I had the occasion to see into the future. I took my almost 4-year old daughter shopping and had visions of shopping trips yet-to-come as she gleefully went from store to store. At the Gap, Little Miss Poppyseed picked out this outfit:

It really is a cute outfit and she was really excited to get it in anticipation of being the Shabbat Star at school next week.

Not long after we had ducked into Macy's to find a bathroom, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

"Oh! My! God! Look at those bags!"

{We had just entered the purse department}

"And they have jewelery here too!"

{She was beside herself}

On our way out of Macy's, we went through the shoe department where Poppyseed carefully pointed out her favourite shoes. Most of which, I might add, were by designers such as Ferragamo, Coach, and so forth. She is going to have some expensive habits, I'm afraid.

Stopping by Mrs. Bearsley's for a mid-shopping cookie, Poppyseed spied the cupcakes. I pointed out that cupcakes were pretty messy and given her track record, would stain her outfit.

"I could eat that one," she reasoned, "it matches my new outfit perfectly!"

So it does, my dear daughter. And so it does.

Homework Hassles

2007-05-23T18:06:00.000-07:00

Which one is longer: a second or a minute? Seems like an easy question, no?

Not so fast! This question was on Beernut's homework and I must be honest when I say that it stumped me.

Before you jump in and remind me that my mathematical abilities have always been on the weak side, let me inform you that this question was not on a math worksheet but on a language arts worksheet.

I don't mean to make life harder. It's just that the word 'second' and the word ' minute' have an equal amount of letters. Which means that neither is longer. They are the same.

But I am thinking that maybe I am overthinking this. Or maybe I just think differently.

Beernut answered "a minute" and I am hoping that is the answer that is being sought.

Meanwhile, is it any wonder that I took so long to complete my homework as a kid??

I am woman -- hear me moo!

2007-05-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

My entire life revolves around sustaining my newborn son. All I think about, read about, and talk about is milk! As amazing as it is that the female body can nurture life, so too am I amazed that my body can nourish that same life. Every one to three hours, my young son seeks me out, motivated by hunger, loneliness, sadness, or fear. And I alone have been able to provide comfort.

That changed yesterday as we find ourselves anticipating my eventual return to work. PC dragged the pump out of storage and I prepared a bottle for my little guy. Peach finished close to 2 ounces in no time -- but he was not happy with the substitute apparatus. He looked so sad...and I felt so sad. Sad because already he is growing so quickly. And this signified his first step of separation. With bottles, he is able to be nourished by others and no longer needs to be with just me.

I took him into bed for an afternoon nap. He nuzzled right up to me and gazed up with his big blue eyes. He smiled and drifted to sleep. And all was safe in his world.

I LOVE the Internet

2007-05-21T17:46:00.000-07:00

I really, really do! It allows me to "travel" without leaving the comfort of my own home. It allows me to "window shop" in my jammies ;)

So I have found lots of fun new websites like this one: Mason and Matisse, which has really trendy (read: expensive)stuff for babies. If I were going to get something for Peach from this site, it would be these supercute Robeez Soft-Soled Shoes.

And how did I find this website??

From Adventures in Babywearing -- which is having an awesome product giveaway, which you can read about here.

And how did I find this website??

From Delightful Blogs.

The internet is like a journey of tangential wanderings...

The Best Intention

2007-05-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

"Did you set the alarm?"
"No."
"We should set the alarm..."
"No, I'll get up on time..."

Famous last words.

Needless to say, we overslept by over an hour this morning. And were amazed that the older kids were still asleep.

"Why won't they do this on the weekends?"

PC showered while I fed Peach.

PC then went to awaken the kids...and yelled back into our room, "They're up!"

And then I hear the following:

"Beernut, you didn't come and get us."
"No, Daddy. We were very quiet so that you and Mommy could get your sleep."

A very sweet, but ill-timed sentiment!!

P.S. Beernut actually made it to school before the tardy bell.

Is This For Real??

2007-05-17T22:38:00.000-07:00

Diet Coke Plus is everything you love about Diet Coke, plus several essential nutrients you want and your body needs. Each 8-ounce serving of Diet Coke Plus provides 15% of your daily value of Niacin and vitamins B6 and B12, and 10% for zinc and magnesium.

Is it just me or is this really disturbing?? Diet Coke is junk food! There isn't supposed to be any redeeming value to it. Just a refreshing taste. If I want health benefits, I'll eat my veggies!

It's the Little Thngs

2007-05-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it is the simple things that strike us as so funny...

Or it might be the lack of sleep since Peach was born...

Anyway, my dear friend "Kay" (who lives in Jerusalem) sent home with my parents a CD -- and she included the gift receipt!!

For some reason, this totally cracked me up.

And then I realized that a UPC is a UPC and I could probably return it to my local Tower Records. Of course, my local Tower Records has gone out of business. Plus, I LOVE the CD. But it was considerate of Kay to give me the option of getting something else in case I didn't like what she had selected.

I really appreciate the gift giver who is more interested in my enjoyment as the recepient than her feelings as the giver.

Mother's Day 5767

2007-05-16T22:35:00.000-07:00

Spending the past 4 and 1/2 weeks at home on maternity leave has definitely awakened some latent domestic inklings. The proof is in what I was hoping to receive as a Mother's Day present.

When PC mentioned to one of my friends that he was getting me a mixer, she calmly explained that no woman wants to get a mixer as a Mother's Day gift.

And so he surprised me with this:

***********************

Postscript -- I must mention here that DadGiraffe, who is normally clueless about such matters, actually recognized that his son-in-law's lovely gift was from Tiffany's!

Time Flies...

2007-05-16T21:51:00.000-07:00

It's All Fun & Games 'til Someone Gets Hurt

2007-05-06T08:06:00.000-07:00

As if life with a brand-new baby (child #3) isn't hard enough...

Last week I received the following email:

I am plonit bat plonit, I'm ploni ben plonit's Mom. He talks about Beernut a lot. I was wondering if you got the flyer about the Pump it Up night and if Beernut would be going? Ploni was hoping Beernut was going to attend. Please email me or call me if you need any additional info.

Well, this was a great email to receive. Beernut does not often get such positive feedback from his peers. It so happens that this young friend is in Beernut's social skills class and loves Nintendo as much as Beernut does. We were so thrilled that we thought it was a great idea for Beernut to attend the party...even though it was on a school night.

Given that Peach was just shy of two weeks at this point, I stayed home with the baby and Poppyseed and sent Beernut to the party with our (fabulous!!) sitter. Not five minutes after they arrived, disaster struck.

Apparently, and no one knows exactly how this happened, Beernut's face somehow got in the path of Ploni's older brother's foot. And knocked out his two front teeth. Beernut has something of a blood phobia -- and gums bleed. A lot. He was hysterical in the background while I was on the phone with the sitter. I was so sleep-deprived that I could not recall if his upper teeth were baby teeth or permanent teeth.

A trip to the dentist the next morning showed that they were in fact baby teeth. Good news. However, his two front lower teeth (which are adult teeth) were now loose. And the dentist also feared that Beernut had sustained a slight jaw fracture. So off we went to the oral surgeon -- who determined that no fracture was revealed on the panoramic xray. However, Beernut would need to be on a soft diet for a MONTH in order to allow the lower teeth time to get over the trauma.

It's going to be a loooooooon month!!

Peach Has Arrived

2007-04-25T17:27:00.000-07:00

Peach arrived on 13 April 2007, corresponding to 25 Nisan 5767, and was entered into the Covenant of our People on Friday, 20 April, corresponding to 2 Iyar.

He has dark hair and a gentle nature.

And we are grateful!

The Perfect Hard-Boiled Egg

2007-04-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

There are three foods that I always connect with Pesach -- matzah, strawberries, and hard-boiled eggs. It isn't that I don't them during the year. It's just that I eat an enormous amount of said items during the 7 days.

No longer living at my childhood home, I am now responsible for the boiling of my own eggs. I suppose PC could take care of it, but this is one of those times that he pulls the "but you do it so much better than I do" card. Really. (He does it with baked potatoes and making the bed too.)

Now why he thinks I do it so much better got me to thinking; is there really a "better" way to hard-boil an egg. I always thought that you just toss a pot of water on the stovetop, wait for it to boil, put in the eggs, and voila! Hard-boiled eggs.

A quick internet search has taught me that apparently there is a "correct" way to boil an egg.

And so I present to you --

The Perfect Hard Boiled Egg

Recipe By : Julia Child, “The Way to Cook”
Serving Size : 1 Preparation Time :0:40
Categories : Cheese/Eggs Family Recipes

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method
-------- ------------ --------------------------------
For 1-4 Eggs:
1 to 4 Eggs
2 quarts water -- * see note
For 12 Eggs:
12 Eggs
3 1/2 quarts water -- * see note
For 24 Eggs:
24 Eggs
6 quarts water -- * see note
Special Equipment_________________________
High (not wide) Saucepan with cover
Bowl w/ice cubes & water (large enough to
completely cover eggs)

*note: water should cover the eggs by 1 inch, so use a tall pan, and limit
cooking to 2 dozen eggs at a time.

1. Lay the eggs in the pan and add the amount of cold water specified. Set
over high heat and bring just to the boil; remove from heat, cover the pan,
and let sit exactly 17 minutes.

2. When the time is up, transfer the eggs to the bowl of ice cubes and
water. Chill for 2 minutes while bringing the cooking water to the boil
again. (This 2 minute chilling shrinks the body of the egg from the shell.)

3. Transfer the eggs (6 at a time only) to the boiling water, bring to the
boil again, and let boil for 10 seconds - this expands the shell from the
egg. Remove eggs, and place back into the ice water.

Chilling the eggs promptly after each step prevents that dark line from
forming, and if time allows, leave the eggs in the ice water after the last
step for 15 to 20 minutes. Chilled eggs are easier to peel, as well.

The peeled eggs will keep perfectly in the refrigerator, submerged in water
in an uncovered container, for 2 to 3 days.

NOTES : The perfect hard boiled egg has a tender white, and a yolk properly
set. There is not the faintest darkening of yolk where the white encircles
it (a chemical reaction caused by too much heat in the cooking process).
Eggs cooked this way can also be peeled neatly.

*********************************************

Yes, you read that correctly. FORTY minutes to hard-boil a few eggs. A bit labour intensive for what it is. However, I am forced to admit that the eggs tasted great and there was absolutely no green discolouration. Even PC declared them "terrific!"

What Really Matters

2007-03-28T16:12:00.000-07:00

It appears that once again I am going against convention in not discovering the gender of our baby prior to birth. I get asked daily -- usually by strangers -- if I know what I am having. When I respond that we are waiting to find out, the shock clearly registers on the face of the individual. As though I've said something so completely shocking and out-of-the norm. The follow-up question is usually "this is your first?" as though that might explain our odd decision. When it comes to light that this is my third and that we have both a son and daughter, the response is always the same.

"So it doesn't really matter, then, does is."

I find this extremely strange -- and a little insulting. First of all, it never really mattered. Not the first time. Nor the second time. And not this time. Though I certainly desired the experience of mothering a son and a daughter, I always figured that any mothering experience would be wonderful regardless of the gender of the child. The fact that I happen to already have one of each in no way impacts what I hope with this one.

For all I really want is a healthy child.

Would I love for Poppyseed to have a sister? Of course! I can't imagine making my way through life without my sister. Or sisters -- now that I've acquired two more through marriage.

Do I think that life would be even better for Beernut if he had a brother to share in life's adventures? Absolutely! And Poppyseed would certainly hold an important position as Daddy's only girl :)

But I can't have it both ways. And to be quite honest, either scenario will be a blessing to our family. It just irks me that people make assumptions about gender desirability.

Furthermore, since I ascribe to our tradition of preparing for the impending birth by not preparing (!), there is no logistical reason of discovering the gender prior to the blessed event. As a hard-core devotee of supersition, I certainly would not want to attach too much personality (or God-forbid the actual name) to this potential life. Even with modern medicine, I won't breathe easy until the little one is safely delivered.

So no -- it doesn't matter. It never did.

Nesting

2007-03-27T10:41:00.000-07:00

According to the baby books, it is common for soon-to-be moms to experience an uncontrollable urge to prepare for the arrival of baby. This urge is known as nesting. This apparently is a natural instinct seen throughout the animal kingdom and in humans is thought to give the monther a sense of control and accomplishment as the birth nears.

Nesting can come in a variety of forms. Some women find themselves unable to pass by a bathroom without scrubbing it with a toothbrush. Others have been known to iron anything in the house that couldn't out run them. And yet others have cleaned the kitchen cupboards and organized everything by size to the point that you make sure the silverware patterns match when it's stacked in the cutlery drawer.

Sadly, my nesting urges have shown my true colours -- to read everything in sight! I've read a couple THOUSAND pages in the past two weeks and there is no sign of stopping. A lot of chick lit (Wife in the Fast Lane, The Reading Group, Friendship Test, Alphabet Weekends), some classics (Marjorie Morningstar, Rebecca), contemporary fiction (The Namesake, Intepreter of Maladies), and some mystery (all of Elizabeth George's books except for her most recent).

"Where does she find the time?" you ask yourself.

Well, I spend a lot of time at the hospital being monitored each week. So that gives me some built-in reading time. Plus, I always seem to find the time somewhere. It's like breathing. I find the time to do that too.

I'm betting that PC would probably prefer that I iron or sort or clean.

Clueless

2007-03-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

It truly is amazing that I manage to make my way through this world being as clueless as I am.

We had a lovely Bar Mitzvah service at shul yesterday. Noticing that the hue of the yarmulkes was a kelly green, I asked the young man if green was his favourite colour. He laughed, "No, it's for St. Patrick's Day."

"Really?" I replied, "when is that?"

"Rabbi, it's today."

I mean, I did know that it was in March...sometime...

And I also knew that yesterday was the 27th of Adar.

That's got to count for something, right??

Ah...Modern Conveniences!

2007-03-12T19:29:00.000-07:00

There is no way that I would have survived as a housewife in any prior generation. I just don't have it in me. I'm not that great of a cook. Can't really bake. And my housekeeping skills are just OK. I have never mastered a hospital corner and it would take personal coaching from a Gap employee before my folding skills were up to snuff.

My kids, who haven't been bothered by the absence of a balabuste in their lives, recently rejected the Kraft Parmasean cheese that they has previously enjoyed in favour of "the good cheese that Bubbe makes for us." Unable to compete with Bubbe's culinary prowess, I figured that they'd just need to make do with what we've got.

Lucky kids! It turns out that Kraft debuted a new product called "Grate-It-Fresh."

That's right -- cheese that has its own grater attached.

It just doesn't get any easier than this ;)

Don't Count Your Chickens...

2007-03-12T19:20:00.000-07:00

So Beernut has been on a certain medication for several months and it has been mostly effective. However, we'd noticed that his afternoon dosage wasn't working and he was experiencing some side effects. No prob. The pediatrician added another afternoon med to the mix with hopes that all would be well. One caveat: Beernut would need to swallow this pill. Unlike his other meds, which we are able to pour the contents onto his tongue, this med loses its effectiveness if taken in this fashion. Dr. P sent us home to practice. "How does one practice swallowing medication?" you might ask. Applesauce and M & M's. Beernut loved practicing. And it worked much of the time. So we moved on to the medication. And at first, it worked fabulously. In fact, Beernut exclaimed that he'd like to take all of his medication this way. "Great!" I thought. "I've actually managed to teach my kid how to swallow pills"

Well, it was short-lived. More often than not, the pill got stuck on the way down...and then came back up. I figured that chocolate pudding would do the trick. And it did -- once!

Needless-to-say, Dr. P came up with Plan B -- a totally different approach that does not involve pills, applesauce, or pudding.

A Pointless Consequence

2007-03-07T17:41:00.002-08:00

Beernut often seems to suffer from what I like to thing of as the "droppsies." No matter what is in his hands...it will end up on the floor. Like the remote. The remote must end up on the floor a minimum of a dozen times a day (I am not exaggerating!). Of course, this might explain why the remote hasn't been operating at its usual level of efficiency of late.

This morning, after the remote had landed on our nicked-up hardwood floors for the 9th or 10th time today, I took away Beernut's remote privilege. Not five minutes later, I heard the channel being changed and could actually feel the steam streaming out of my ears.

However, when I reached the family room, the remote was exactly where I had left it. "Look Mom! I figured out how to change the channels just by pressing the buttons on the TiVo."

Heck, I don't even know how to do that. So while it was a wasted punishment, at least I will still be able to watch TV when (and it is when, not if) the remote ceases to work.

Baby Talk

2007-03-06T10:16:00.000-08:00

So out-of-the-blue Beernut asks about the party we are going to have when Baby (aka "Peach") is on its 8th day.

We should have a cake that says "Welcome to our family."

That's a great idea, I respond.

I know...we should have peaches because that's our special name for the baby while it's in your tummy. And Jordan Almonds too, of course.

Of course.

You know, we should also get the leaf for the tree at the party too.

We have a recent tradition at our shul that at each Family Service, we honour anyone who has put a new leaf up on our Simcha Tree during the past month. For some reason, Beernut has really taken to this new tradition and has been anticipating the right moment to honour the birth of our latest addition.

It's nice to know that he's been paying attention ;)

Post-Purim Blues

2007-03-05T17:06:00.000-08:00

I always feel a let-down after this holiday. Maybe because the run-up to it is so intense. At least it is in our house. We LOVE this holiday. I mean in a major way. For weeks in advance, we plan our costumes and wait daily for Ebay packages to bring the bits and pieces that make the outfits just right. No baking this year, sadly, due to my ever-creasing girth and inability to fit comfortably in our galley kitchen. The many hours spent preparing the Purim Shpiel and the Megillah reading -- and then poof...over in just the flash of an eye. This year, thanks to timing, it was a weekend full of festivities. Services on Saturday night, carnival on Sunday morning, and an adult-only costume party on Sunday night. It was a fantastic weekend. One celebrating our ongoing survival against enemies who would rather do away with us.

And so it was particularly upsetting for me to discover that for many of the non-Jews in our area, their awareness of Purim was informed by an article which ran in the LA Times this past weekend. An article entitled "A More Sober Marking of Purim?" While it is true that drinking to excess present real problems and underage drinking is both illegal and dangerous, this is not a story that should have landed in the secular press. This is an internal issue that we must deal with -- within our community and not before the eyes of the secular public. Furthermore, there is so much more to Purim than drinking. And how very sad that the real message of this holiday had to be obscured behind what some editor felt was newsworthy.

Water, water everywhere

2007-03-02T14:02:00.000-08:00

So it's been an interesting week!

My first appointment was on Monday and they delivered the alarming news that my amniotic fluid was on the low side. The parametres are between 5 and 25 cm -- and I was at around 8.4. Nisht gut! But looking on the bright side, not as bad as it could have been ;)

I was sent home with the strict orders to build serious rest time into my schedule and drink water.

Working at my computer, as it turns out, does not qualify as rest time. They mean horizontal time. So I have made it a point to leave work for a few hours each day to really lie down and rest. It turns out that this allows for all blood flow to go directly to the placenta, which in turn will get to the baby, whose kidneys will then output the amniotic fluid.

As for water, it's not like I wasn't drinking before. However, I am now to be drinking 3 litres a day. 3 LITRES A DAY!!! That is a heck-of-a-lot of water. Just over 100 ounces, if you really want to know. Juice is off-limits, of course, as it interferes with my blood sugar numbers. Tea is a diuretic so that won't help. Apparently the more liquid I drink, the denser my blood pressure is and that increased flow is good for the baby.

So now -- I am totally obsessed about water. I play little games with myself. 40 ounces before noon and I know I'm doing well. Another 40 by 4:00pm. Then it's just over 20 to go. Silly, I know. But it seems to be working because....

When I returned to the hospital on Thursday, good news!! Baby's reactivity was good and the fluid numbers had risen to 15.24. They are happy with anything about 12 cm so this is good.

Of course, I am not to return to my evil ways of working 13 hours straight and being lax about the water. But I remain hopeful that with a continued aggressive approach to the water and rest, things will stay in the safe zone.

Chag Purim Sameach...

Rolling Right Along

2007-02-25T09:33:00.000-08:00

Week 32 commences today! This is a good thing for the following reasons:

1. The end is in sight.

I know at this point that no matter what happens, this baby will be delivered sometime between now and when taxes are due -- which is 7 more weeks for those of you still getting your tax info organized! This is a precaution set down by my my perinatalogist who won't let me go past 39 weeks. Babies of diabetic moms run an increased risk of getting too large (though this does not seem to be an issue given the tight control we've kept through 3x/daily insulin injections) as well as a high risk of stillbirth. Contrary to a recent rumour I heard, a delivery by April 15 has NOTHING to do with the fact that Rebgiraffe and MrsGiraffe are leaving for Israel on April 23. Anyone who knows me and family clearly knows that induction would never have been an option for any reason other than a medical one.

2. I start going to the hospital 2x/week for testing.

I get much more relaxed once I get to this point because I am under regular surveillance! This decreases the possibility that the baby could get into trouble without someone noticing. I am very old-fashioned in this respect. I like being in the hospital environment, surrounded by medical experts, who assume the responsibility for my welfare and that of my unborn child.

So that being said -- for those of you who have seen me recently:

* Yes I know I look huge.
* No, I am not carrying twins.
* No, I am not "about ready to pop."

I am exactly right on target for a 32 week pregnant woman. A bit tired. Still getting sick most days. But overall, grateful for the opportunity to join in partnership with God in the creation of new life.

Awesome!

2007-02-23T08:18:00.000-08:00

OK -- personally I do not observe the mitzvah of t'fillin. But I just love this doll!! Barbie really can do anything ;)

For more info -- you can check out her website.

The Irony of it All

2007-01-23T12:39:00.000-08:00

I love this country...and for so many reasons. Here is just one example:

At some point in the not so distant past, I was the victim of a crime. A minor crime. Some goniff stole the registration sticker from my rear license plate and the very nice Highway Patrolman brought it to my attention. All I needed to do was get a replacement sticker, have a police officer verify that I had placed it on my license plate, and send it back to the courthouse -- accompanied by a $10.00 processing fee, of course. Not too bad. Of course, that did not take into account the $15 fee that the police station charged as a verification fee. So -- being a victim cost me $25.00.

And if they were to catch the guy and he was unable to afford a lawyer, my tax money would provide him with legal representation.

And that, my friends, is just one of the things that I love about this country!!

Au Pair Update

2006-12-26T16:12:00.000-08:00

So here's the news that's fit to print:

Au Pair (A/P) is here until January 5th. Apparently we have to house her for two weeks after the exit interview. We are not letting her drive since (a) she dinged our car and (b) never got us the paperwork that we need to insure her. So the kids will be spending a lot of time at home over the next two weeks.

We'll start getting applications tomorrow. One thing that we've made very clear -- the new A/P must bring driving record WITH HER!

So for now, we are looking for someone to do the pick-ups two afternoon a week until the new A/P arrives (which, God-willing, will be in February). My parents are being awesome and will do the schlepping the other two days. And, of course, I'll do it on my day off. Quite a change from the nice consistency we've had the past two months. But this is temporary. Just hoping that we'll be able to find someone who is willing to do the driving -- and is only looking for a temporary job.

We're not prepared to write off the entire au pair process yet. It has been discouraging, to be sure. However, I've known many families who have had a wonderful experience. Hopefully we'll be one of those families.

In the meantime, we just soldier on. It's a little awkward having someone live in your home who doesn't really want to be there anymore. But, as the story goes, it could always be worse! (Pooh-pooh-pooh)

Au Pairadise??

2006-12-24T12:38:00.000-08:00

Things are nisht gut in au pairadise! Our au pair has given notice. Apparently she doesn't care for being an au pair. Too stressful. Too much work. Making her sick. And what she really wants to do is go to college. She's been unhappy, it turns out, for about four weeks. Never mentioned a thing because "there was no point in saying anything until I made up my mind." One way to approach a problem, I suppose. She has been accepted to a community college in a different part of the county and arranged to move in with two friends -- classes begin on January 8th!

As for us? We go back into the system and begin again. We are a little gun-shy, but feel better prepared this time. And though in any situation both sides are responsible, it is clear to us and to the agency that at least 95% of the blame lies with the au pair and not with us. 8% of au pairs are just not suitable and somehow get through the whole process before anyone figures that out. We'll start looking at candidates and hopefully will find a good match in the next couple of weeks. It will then take about 6 weeks for the new one to arrive in our home.

It's a darn good thing that I'm a calm person by nature or else I'd be totally freaking out right now ;)

All Jewish All the Time

2006-12-21T18:10:00.000-08:00

at least during the 8 days of Chanukah. That's right. XM Satellite Radio has a channel devoted entirely to Jewish music. And for those who do not subscribe to XM, it is available online for free this entire week. Much of the music has absolutely nothing to do with the Festival of Lights. It is just Jewish in nature -- and sometimes the only thing Jewish has been the artist. But it has been fun to hear such a wide variety of Jewish tunes coming from my computer speakers as well as being introduced to new composers and artists. It will continue through the end of Chanukah so go ahead and take a listen.

A lichtegeh and freilichin Chanukah!

Hello World!

2006-12-20T12:22:00.000-08:00

Frume Sarah is back in the saddle. As some of you know, it's been a crazy few months with the anticipated arrival of "Peach" sometime after Pesach. The morning sickness was just unbelievable this time 'round. It was never just in the morning -- and it lasted about 21 weeks!! I still get a bit queasy in the morning and late at night as well. But very little throwing up now (sorry for the graphics here) and that is a very good thing. I've finally gained a little weight -- which is also a very good thing.

And it isn't as if I haven't had opinions and musings that I longed to share with you. I just lacked the koyach (strength) to type.

However, I am committed to push aside the exhaustion in order to share my innermost thoughts and rants with you.

Happy reading!!

You Know You've Made It -- Part II

2006-07-22T21:27:00.000-07:00

We were in the LA times last week!!! Really! It was a great article and a lot of fun to wake up and read about my life in the paper.

Enjoy!

Hotter than ...

2006-07-22T21:16:00.000-07:00

Ay yi yi!

It's like living in Manhattan...except we're not. It is SO hot and SO humid. We actually had an electrical storm this evening. It doesn't seem to have helped much with the mugginess. PC actually said that he doesn't know how he's going to make it through the summer without A/C.

You may have noticed that I haven't posted in quite some days. I have been just so busy with the new job and have been having a minor (read: MAJOR) childcare crisis the past several weeks. We are in the midst of looking for a new nanny -- and that takes up all my free time. And in typical Frume Sarah style, this was the same week that the washing machine stopped working and though the spa is finally fixed -- it's not clean enough to use.

B'li Neder alert: I do hope to be back in the next few days with some thoughts about Israel, who has been foremost in my thoughts and prayers.

You Know You've Made It When...

2006-07-13T11:52:00.000-07:00

the Forward publishes an article about you!!!

How cool is that?

The Forverts has been around since 1897 and though it hasn't been a daily since 1983, it remains one of the preeminent Jewish periodicals, published in English, Yiddish, and Russian each week.

And this week, you can read about Frume Sarah :)

Frume Sarah and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

2006-07-10T21:26:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those days??

I should have known...

Poppyseed didn't sleep last night. As a result, Poppyseed's mother (yours truly) did not sleep last night. All day long, strange little problems kept cropping up and yet I kept going.

While in the grocery store, I received a phone call from the nanny. Seems that the water in the house was not running. Not a huge problem once we determined that no pipes had burst. Due to a miscommunication, PC had thought that the gas and water bill was on automatic payment. PC was wrong.

No big deal. The water will return in the morning. As long as no one has to go to the bathroom...we'll be fine. The bigger problem is that the gas company is unable to switch the gas back on until Friday morning. However, according to PC this too is no big deal.

"We'll just take cold showers," he suggested.

"How about a hotel?" I retorted.

As I wandered around the grocery store muttering to myself, I was unaware that there had been a queso accident in aisle 17. It wasn't until I walked right through it (in my cute flip-flops) that I just about lost it. How was I going to clean the queso off my foot without any water??

Sure, it sounds funny after the fact. But at the time, it was all I could do to restrain myself.

"Is it a full moon or something?" inquired the checkout girl?

"As a matter of fact, it is just about the middle of Tammuz."

Ok so she didn't have a clue what I meant -- but thanks to the fact that we still don't have drapes up in the master bedroom, I always know where we are in the lunar cycle.

And the days just kept on going in a similar vein. Poppyseed, who conveniently seems to be suffering from a case of shilshul, spilled her drink at dinner. When I discovered something sticky and hard in Beernut's hair, his response was "I didn't know that was going to happen!" [For the future, Beernut -- when you put melted Otterpop in your hair, it will always leave it hard and sticky.]

Yet when it comes right down to it, even with all the frustrations, life is good. Sure, we could be a little cleaner as we settle down to end this day. But we've got our health (poo-poo-poo), a roof over our heads (kinna hura), and tomorrow is (b'ezrat HaShem) another day.

Another shande far di goyim

2006-07-05T23:38:00.000-07:00

I should have known when I read the synopsis that I wasn't going to like tonight's Law & Order repeat. Here is an adapted run-down from the NBC site:

Religious sensitivities flare when a man is mysteriously killed after desecrating a treasured edition of the Hebrew Torah. As the authorities investigate, they find the dead man was paid by the cousin of a prominent synagogue member to defile the book -- which might prompt a lucrative property sale. But as the Assistant D.A. probes the family feud, his prosecution is hobbled by political pressure and a debate concerning whether the greater crime was done to the slain man or to the holy text.

Why did this have to be on television for all the world to see? The stereotyped characters, the money thing, the rabbi twisting the Law in order to justify his participation in a lie -- ay, yi, yi. It was painful to watch. Do we know people like this? Of course we do. But does it have anything to do with being Jewish? I've met plenty of people who have a New York accent, are stingy with money, a bit on the crafty side, and are definitely NOT members-of-the-tribe.

Maybe I should be happy that we've become so integrated into American society that a whole episode is dedicated to us...

Or maybe we don't need to be so integrated.

I am turning into someone from my grandparents' generation. I am embarrassed when we are portrayed so negatively for all the world to see. With the current climate, we don't need any more negative portrayals.

Ironically, the anti-Semites still claim that Hollywood is run by the Jews.

Homecoming

2006-07-03T21:28:00.000-07:00

After all the waiting, I've finally come home. Mostly, that is. As of this past Shabbos, I am now one of the rabbis of my home congregation -- with my father as the senior colleague. (See January 15, 2006 entry for more details)

It was a lovely service, but I must admit that I was really, really nervous. As the service began, I had some serious Bat Mitzvah flashbacks. I couldn't remember which melody I'd chosen for the opening song and I made certain (as instructed by my childhood cantor) not to cross my legs for fear I would forget to *uncross* them and fall flat on my face. (She was not making this story up; the senior rabbi managed to do this very thing at his kitchen table about 20 years ago the same day his family had planned a trip to Disneyland!)

Nervous? you ask. About what should I be nervous?

A bimah partnership is not built overnight. It comes with time and with many shared bimah experiences. My dad and I have well over 50 years of collective bimah experience -- only we don't have it together. And though we know each other really well (!), we've yet to learn one another's non-verbal cues and worship styles. Additionally, I'm learning which keys work best for me, work best for him, and work best for our congregation. I can already see that several pieces will need to be lowered if the congregation will have any hope of joining with me in song.

Now I'm on my own! It's July -- historically, a time when senior rabbis go on vacation. I've been moving boxes into the building these past few days. You may recall from the May 5th entry, that I moved 40 boxes out of my last study. And I've still got some boxes that never even made it to the JCC since I was a little short on bookshelves. So I'll be transferring boxes throughout the entire week! Thanks to the overwhelming generosity of some congregants, my newly-painted study will have plenty of bookcases to house my precious friends.

You can look forward to more regular postings now that Frume Sarah is back in the saddle!!

My Baby's Growing Up...

2006-06-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

Three years ago today, Poppyseed was born.

"I can't believe that my babies are all grown up," I sighed.

"Don't worry, Mom," comforted Beernut, "you'll have another baby someday."

I really love that kid.

"Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This..."

2006-06-13T22:34:00.000-07:00

Poppyseed's First Dentist Appointment

Oy! You'd think I'd get better at this stuff with each subsequent child. Supermommy still didn't remember the digital camera to document the event. I did remember "Blankie" (her lovie), but that didn't seem to help with the traumatic announcement.

Though there was no evidence of visual decay, Dr. H declared that the thumbsucking must stop immediately. Poppyseed heard this...and dissolved into heaving sobs.

"I can't suck my Thumbie? I going to miss her!"

All day little Poppyseed's thumb would inch towards her mouth...and she would look at it and reply,

"I not sucking my Thumbie anymore 'cause...'cause...{sob}...'cause I not suck her anymore."

CarTalk with Beernut

After what must have been a frustrating day in Kindergarten, Beernut heaved himself into his carseat (quite a feat for a kid who barely weighs 41 pounds)and exclaimed,

"Mom, you shouldn't have wished for me. You wasted your wish."

And finally...

"Provided By Management For Your Safety"

A toilet seat cover to some.

But after a long day, a life saver to me.

On all other days we vote just once, but on this day we vote twice!

2006-06-06T22:41:00.000-07:00

The reason?
Apparently, today is both the Statewide Primary as well as the city's election day. And because we have yet to streamline the voting process, city ballots need to be cast and counted separately from the county, because the City of Long Beach uses a different voting system than the county. The good news is that two ballots allowed for each of my children to cast one -- so no fighting!

This was the first year that Beernut really understood what we were doing. Poppyseed was just in it for the cookies and "I voted" stickers.

Whatever gets people to the polls...

Marking time Jewishly

2006-06-06T22:15:00.000-07:00

It happened so fast. It was in his mouth and suddenly it was on the table.

"Mazal tov!" I exclaimed

His first baby tooth.

Beernut was so excited! That is until he noticed the blood. It really wasn't all that much blood. But Beernut has this thing about blood.

"This isn't as exciting as I thought it was going to be!!" he quivered.

A dark shadow passed over his face with the appearance of bloodspecks on his dinner.

"You know, the tooth fairy is going to visit tonight."
"What if I wake up when she tries to reach under my pillow?" Beernut worried.
"Beernut, if Daddy and I can move furniture in your room without bothering you, the tooth fairy won't have any difficulties."
"Well, maybe we should leave the tooth fairy pillow on my door handle just in case."

There isn't a prescribed blessing for a loose tooth. Perhaps because it is a natural and expected occurance. Nor is there a mitzvah involved. But to allow the moment pass unmarked seemed anti-climactic. And not very Jewish.

"Let's say our special blessing for firsts, OK? I'll do the Hebrew and..."
"I'll say amen," he interrupted.
"That's right, Sweetheart, you say amen."

And so we thank You, Dear God, for creating us, keeping us alive, and bringing us to these very special moments.

You know we've made it...

2006-06-04T17:19:00.000-07:00

when the most dramatic moment at the National Scripps Spelling Bee hinged on the correct spelling of the word 'hechsher.'

Apparently, 14 year-old Saryn Hooks from North Carolina spelled it 'hechsher' while the judges believed the correct spelling to be 'hechscher.' I guess no one told them that unless one is firmly entrenched in the world of academia, transliterating a word from Hebrew into English usually involves several options.

Good thing that the word wasn't 'chanukah!'

The Pot Making a Racial Statement

2006-06-04T16:02:00.000-07:00

It gives a false impression, spell check does. Though it attempts to be thorough, can we really expect it to replace the eagle-eye capabilities of a careful editor?

Recently, I was most appalled to read that "fortune coolies" were to be served at a luncheon held at a Chinese restaurant.

Besides the Divine injunction against cannibalism, it's just not P.C. to refer to the hired help as coolies any longer.

In the words of my revered teacher, Dr. P, "spell check will never correct pubic library."

Alaska, cont'd

2006-05-25T12:01:00.000-07:00

It really was a great vacation! We went sea kayaking in Sitka -- which was a great way to get out into nature. Our tour guide Billy reminded us of Keanu Reeves in Parenthood -- and not in a good way! It was his first tour and he was a little more concerned about getting us back to the boathouse than actually pointing out the local flora and fauna. Not to mention his ongoing concern about us being "discomfortable." Like, that is so not a word.

I would highly recommend sea kayaking to anyone looking for a great workout. And in 40 degree weather (that is Fahrenheit, BTW), it is an effective way to stay warm.

Baby, it's cold outside!

2006-05-24T23:57:00.000-07:00

Well, Frume Sarah and PC have returned from their trip to Alaska. It was actually a forshpice (appetizer) of Alaska as we had but two stops in Alaska; Sitka and Ketchiken. It was beautiful and we do plan to return and explore our 49th state.

All's Well That Ends Well

2006-05-05T16:56:00.000-07:00

All 40 boxes have been packed and moved out of my study at the J. Diplomas off the wall...the very last thing was to remove my mezzuzah. There should be a blessing. Or something to say. Some way to mark the moment of departure. Even when it is a good departure, there is still some sadness.

Frume Sarah will be sailing the seven seas so it'll be rather quiet 'round here til mid-May.

I'll return with stories galore!

And the massage?

2006-05-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

It was just wonderful, thanks for asking!

La Stone Therapy
A unique type of massage incorporating the use of heated smooth stones, placed along the spine and other areas of the body and integrated into the massage. The combination of heat, oils, and massage allows for deep relaxation and a trip out of this world. A very special experience. Excellent for chronic muscle tension.

I'm hooked!

In Print!

2006-05-04T18:49:00.000-07:00

I rushed out my front door first thing this morning in order to check for my article in this week's Jewish Journal. And there it was -- a glaring mistake! I misidentified Barack Obama as a Representative rather than a Senator. I had picked up on the mistake and had hoped that it could be changed in time. Apparently I was too late -- eek! It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have identified the Junior Senator from Illinois as a Republican. Oh well. Luckily it was corrected in the online edition which may be found here.

My Perspective

2006-05-03T10:17:00.000-07:00

[This is the article that is slated to run in this week's Jewish Journal of Los Angeles. I will post the link when it is up. I will also write more about the trip in the next day or so. It is day 5 of my sabbatical and I have a Hot Stone Massage in 45 minutes so I've got to dash!]

As I drove my children home after school, how many men, women, and children were fleeing from their homes this week in Darfur? As I tucked my children snuggly into their beds, how many mothers crept out of their refugee camps at night to gather firewood to keep their children warm this week in Darfur? As I flew to our nation’s capital in support of our government’s commitment to justice in Sudan, how many villages were burned to the ground by the government-backed militia (known as the Janjeweed) this week in Darfur?

In the shadow of the Jefferson Memorial and with the Washington Memorial just across the Basin, we ended Shabbat. Bimheira v’yameinu yavo eileinu, im mashiach ben David. Speedily in our days, may [Elijah the prophet] come with the messiah, son of David.

These words we sing as we usher in the new week. Hoping, praying that this will be the week that will see the coming of the messianic time. This week is different. We, who stand over two hundred strong, are thinking of a people thousands of miles away who truly need that peace and need it right now. The victims of the genocide in Darfur so very present in our hearts as we pray together.

A military helicopter flies directly over us and we pay no attention. If I were a woman in Darfur, that very same helicopter would strike fear within me. A military helicopter in Darfur signifies not safety but the beginning of a raid by the Janjeweed. How fortune I am, O God, to be a thousand worlds away. And how ashamed I feel to even utter those words.

I sleep fitfully. What am I doing here? What real impact will this gathering really have? Several thousand people gathering on the Mall cannot end the suffering. Our Tradition gives us only two instances where we are actively commanded to seek out opportunities to fulfill a particular commandment. They are “Seek peace and pursue it” (Psalms 34:15) and “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20). Rodef. To pursue. To be one who pursues peace. One who pursues justice. Pursue – it is such an active word. During the restless night, I realize that my presence here is not merely a symbolic act nor should I view it as an act of passivity. Rather, by being here and joining my voice with many others, I have become a rodefet. I have become one who pursues.

This is to be a family reunion of sorts. I am joined by my mother, my brothers, my sister, one of my sisters-in-law, and her cousin. Completing the Amado-Einstein-Schorr group is my young cousin whose mother had introduced me to activism by encouraging me to write letters on behalf of the Refusniks two decades ago. How proud I am to stand with over one hundred Jews from Los Angeles, an effort coordinated by Jewish World Watch and the Jewish Federation-Council of Greater Los Angeles.. And our group stands amongst groups from congregations, day schools, Hillel students, JCCs and other Jewish groups from all across North America. Over fifteen-thousand people. Young and old, we have come together with a unified purpose.

Jews marching for Jews. Self-explanatory. But Jews marching for African Muslims? Why? Why stand up for a group of people whose lives have no impact on mine?

Because my faith demands it of me. Because I cannot be angry at the world for allowing six million of my people to be slaughtered if I am not willing to raise my voice in protest for the Darfurians.

The association of Darfur with the Shoah is a natural one for us. When we hear phrases such as ‘ethnic cleansing’ and ‘relocation,’ we know all too well what these euphemisms are concealing; the organized destruction of a people.

Many of the signs reflect our natural instinct to draw connections between the realities of Darfur and the memories of our recent past. Signs bearing the slogans “Never Again,” “Never Forget,” and “Save Darfur” are in English and Hebrew. And there are others. A refugee from Liberia, with the Texas flag draped over his shoulders, carries a sign declaring “I saw it, I escaped it, stop it now!” Three co-eds from the University of Iowa drove all night to hold signs that say “to remain silent and indifferent is the greatest sin of all.” A high schooler from Boston wrote the words “Schindler’s List, The Killing Fields, Hotel Rwanda. Don’t wait for the movie.”

Now what? What do I do now that the March is over? I don’t have the international respect of Elie Wiesel whose mere presence is a constant reminder of what can happen when the world remains silent in the face of evil. I don’t have the political clout of Senator Barack Obama whose impassioned words elicited great cheers from the crowd. Nor do I have the popular attention of George Clooney whose recent visit to Darfur just last week will do more to forward this cause then a dozen marches. What I do have is the desire to see the genocide brought to an end. I can write to President Bush. I can make responsible choices in the voting booth. I can stand in front of the consulates of NATO and African Union nations, Russia, and China between now and June 2nd, a day that corresponds this year with the day we celebrate God’s revelation at Sinai. How fitting that these visits, as suggested by Rabbi David Saperstein of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, will “be taking place during the counting of the Omer, in which we move from the freedom given us at Passover to the responsibility that came with accepting God’s laws at Sinai.” I can receive regular email updates from the Save Darfur Coalition (www.savedarfur.org) and American Jewish World Service (www.ajws.org). I can encourage my colleagues to join with the more than forty Southern Californian congregations who have already become active members of Jewish World Watch. And I can continue to talk about Darfur with my friends, congregants, and neighbours.

Speedily in our days, O God, speedily in our days may this nightmare end and may our brothers and sisters in Darfur know enduring peace. May this be Your Will.

Frume Sarah from A-Z

2006-05-03T00:44:00.000-07:00

Everything you wanted to know about me from a to zed, alef to tav, negative infinity to positive infinity...

Accent: I've always wanted one, but don't think I really have one. Often accused of being a Valley Girl...

Booze: Pathetically low tolerance. Kahlua and Cream reminds me of the U.N. Pub in Netanya.

Chore I Hate: Am I limited to just one?

Dogs/Cats: What about them?

Essential Electronics: Internet, cellphone, TiVo.

Favorite Perfume/Cologne: On me: Anais Anais, but still looking for new signature scent. On PC: Armani

Gold/Silver: Yes. But never together!

Hometown: Fountain Valley, CA

Insomnia: Not since Beernut was born almost 6 years ago.

Job Title: Rabbi.

Kids: Two, so far.

Living Arrangements: With my family in our little house.

Most Admired Trait: Compassionate listener.

Number of Sexual Partners: One!

Overnight Hospital Stays: Six.

Phobia: Heights

Quote: People consider faith a minor thing, but I consider it very, very important(Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav).

Religion: Jewish.

Siblings: Younger sister, two younger brothers (and one sister-in-law).

Time I usually wake up: 9:30am if left to my own devices. 6:05am now that Beernut is in grade school.

Unusual Talent: They're all pretty usual.

Vegetable I refuse to eat: It would be faster just to name the few I do eat.

Worst Habit: Eating habits (see above!)

X-Rays: Back, stomach, ankles, knees -- a whole bunch.

Yummy Foods I make: Spaghetti sauce, lamb chops, artichoke dip, Toll House Pie.

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Want to play? Consider yourself tagged. This is a long one, though, so I'm not putting anyone on the spot this time.

Homeward Bound?

2006-05-02T14:55:00.000-07:00

At some point around midnight, (my cousin) Raven suggested that it might make sense to stay up all night rather than risk missing our 4:30am wake-up call. It seemed a little crazy at the time, but as I was putting the finishing touches on my article for the Jewish Journal, it wasn’t long before I too realized that going to sleep would be a tremendously-risky move. Taking a break around 3:00am-ish, I sat down on my bed to watch “Philadelphia” – a movie that I hadn’t seen in years. Not too long after that. I realized that despite her best efforts to pull an all-nighter, Raven was fast asleep – with remote firmly in hand.

I figured that once the movie had ended, we’d have just enough time to finish packing up and grab a taxi. By some lucky stroke, I happened to glance that the clock only to notice that it was 4:53 and we needed to be in a cab no later than 5:10am. I jumped up and tried to rouse Raven from her deep, deep slumber. Not an easy task, let me tell you. And even once she was up, it was slooooooooooooooow going. I had sudden insight into how she almost missed our flight out to DC just 45 hours earlier. This girl moves like molassess!

The traffic was in our favour and we were safely deposited to Washington Dulles International Airport 2 hours, 23 minutes before our flight by a taxi drive whose radio entertained us with Contemporary Gospel music. Early? A bit. But security really did take a while. And my 14 year-old cousin seems to require a Starbuck fix every few hours – and it was a very long line. (Incidentally, I didn’t start drinking coffee until my 4th year of Rabbinical school.)

After jaunt into the Borders (she apparently required a bookstore fix every few hours as well. Sound like anyone you know, PC?), we made our way to Gate D24. And we sat. We sat and we sat. And then at about 7:55am, we boarded our flight. It would be of little surprise that only moments after inflating my travel pillow, I was fast asleep. A gift really. About 90 minutes later, I foggily became aware that we were still at the gate. Or, more accurately we had returned to the gate. Apparently we had gotten as far as the runway when the pilot noticed an illuminated light on the dashboard (or the airplane equivalent) indicating that one of the jets was having an issue. Back at the gate, the mechanical technicians had just corrected the problem and were performing a diagnostic check to make certain that we were “good to go.” So I called PC, DadGiraffe and Raven’s mom to inform them of our delay. And then I went back to sleep. A really hard, deep sleep too.

So deep that I was truly surprised to hear the arrival announcement. It seemed like just minutes ago we were sitting at the gate at Dulles and here the captain was making the “check, cross-check” announcement. Well, as it turns out, it was just minutes ago that we’d been at the Gate D24. Flight 149, it seemed, needed a new part – and the part was at National International Airport. Isn’t that a funny name? National International? Good thing they’ve renamed it Reagan International. Anyway, once they got the part over to Dulles, it would take about an hour to get it into place.

“Not to worry,” the kind customer service representative at Gate D12 told us, as she handed us a slip of paper with an 800 number on it. “Just call this number to get on the next flight out.” Call the number? Isn’t that what you, my kind customer service representative, is supposed to be doing? “Or you can stand on this really long line.” Now that seems like a lovely way to stretch my legs after sitting on a grounded plane for 180 minutes. How thoughtful of you. “But if you aren’t trying to make a connection” – and we weren’t – “you might as well wait since this flight is definitely going to go.”

The word ‘definitely’ should have been the tip-off. Nothing about this day has been definite. It was now 10:30am and we were now tired and hungry. A dangerous combination. We went to an eating establishment that was masquerading as the Golden Arches. Given my vast experience with McDonald’s both domestic and international, I can say without hesitation that the poor customer service was matched only by the poor food quality. What a disappointment.

Back to Borders. Though I had resisted the ever-present urge to make a literary selection (yeah for me) during our first Borders venture this morning, I reasoned that the travel delay now required some new reading material. There are always dozens and dozens of books that are of interest, but after being steeped in all things Darfur this weekend, I wasn’t in the mood for anything light and fluffy. I chose Paul Rusesabagina’s autobiographical account of the Rwandan genocide.

So tired was I that after about page 24, I had to close my eyes for just a few minutes. Around 12:30pm, I awoke with a start. Women’s intuition? Sixth sense? Whatever. It was a darn good thing I did because apparently Flight 149 – the one that was “definitely going to go” – had been cancelled. No one around me had heard any announcement. Word was just traveling by word of mouth…

I approach the ticket counter with some other disgruntled customers. The "kind customer service representative" was getting less and less kind. Though she claimed to have made an announcement, not one of us sitting at Gate 12 had heard said announcement. But not to worry. She had already booked us on a flight scheduled to depart at 3:26pm. Unfortunately we would have to stop in Dallas as "all the direct flights have either left or are already booked." Bummer!

So Raven and I hauled our stuff down to Gate 19 and sat. We sat and sat and sat and sat. And then, we overheard someone say that this flight was delayed. Something about mechanical trouble. We checked the board at the gate, but no change had been made and no actual human was at that counter. So we checked the big board in the hall and sure enough, new flight scheduled to leave at 5:00pm. Again, no announcement.

I'm all for postive thinking. A positive attitude can make the difference, sometimes, between success and failure. However, sometimes a situation calls for a realistic attitude rather than a positive one. Case-in-point -- the inbound flight from Dallas was only first scheduled to land at 4:36pm. Now I realize that American is a new airline and doesn't have much experience in this department, but even I know that the likelihood of a 24 minute turn-around (and no, I didn't do that math myself. Raven did it for me.) is slim-to-none. Furthermore, we were now scheduled to arrive in Dallas just 35 minutes before our connection.

To be continued...

Cinco de Mayo

2006-04-27T11:55:00.000-07:00

Beernut's class is having a fiesta in honour of Cinco de Mayo next week. They seem to be taking a page from some Reform temples that observe Jewish holidays on the closest Friday because Cinco de Mayo is being celebrated on Quatro de Mayo. Who knows.

Anyway, this morning Beernut asks, "do we celebrate Cinco de Mayo?"

And that is what it all comes down to for him. Is this particular holiday one of ours or one of theirs? And if it is not one of ours, is it OK for me to participate?

A few weeks ago, we had a similar problem with Easter. Beernut's classroom teacher, who has made a genuine effort to be inclusive, sent the following email:

The kids are making bunny ears and bunny bags for an egg hunt on Thurs. All we do is look for plastic eggs to put in our bunny bag and then come in and eat bunny cookies and juice while wearing bunny ears we made. Our spring festivities take place on Thurs. from 10:35-11:15. I realize our theme is around spring bunnies but if you would not like Ben to participate then I can send him to do work in another classroom during that time. Please let me know.

I can tell one thing. Making my kid stay inside to do work while the other kids are doing a fun activity that includes chocolate isn't going to instill a positive Jewish identity in him, now is it?

So I write back a sweet note and of course, allowed him to participate.

The day after the Easter Egg Hunt, Beernut proclaims Easter a "wonderful holiday!" I inquire and he responds, "I love Easter because that is when the Easter bunny gives us chocolate and spreads Easter joy to all the boys and girls."

I thought I was going to throw up.

And then my little Beernut continues, "so why can't Jews celebrate Easter? Jews like bunnies and Jews like chocolate."

That is a good questions, Beernut -- if Easter was only about bunnies and chocolate. And so I had to try and explain to my 5 year-old Jewish kid what Easter was really all about. (Yet one more thing I didn't learn in Rabbinical school.)

So I wrote the following to my dad:

Is there any point in trying to educate the schools that this is not a universal practice but really is tied to a religion? And if it is to truly celebrate spring, why is it not done in close proximately to the equinox??

Or is this just my problem since he’s not at a day school?

To which he wisely responded:

One of the reasons to send our children to a public school is to acquaint them with the world around them. Being acquainted with the secular aspects of both winter and spring seasons that coincide with Christmas and Easter are part of cultural literacy.

Your children live their Judaism at home, in shul, with family, with friends, etc.

I am reminded of the time the guys and I went into a drug store on the corner of Laurel Canyon and Osborne to get some candy on the way home from Pacoima Jr. High. The man behind the counter asked, "Are you looking forward to a visit from the Easter Bunny?" Without a moment's hesitation, I responded, "No, but I do expect John the Matzah Man!" Your kids will likely be as comfortable with their Judaism.

We do live in a multi-cultural society...and we do live as a minority in a a society that is colored by its Christian majority.

Some Jews try to insulate our kids from this reality by sending them to Jewish day schools, but that only puts off the inevitable. Or, we can make aliyah...and then be a minority THERE as Reform Jews!

Shver tzu zein a Yid!!

And you know what? He's right! It is hard to be a Jew.

And you know what else? I wouldn't have it any other way!

Get a move on...

2006-04-24T10:14:00.000-07:00

Time for my annual heath kick! Last year at this time, I decided to run a marathon. I finished it and feel as though I really accomplished something great. And yet, the exercise regimen didn't take. Not only have I not run a step since crossing the finish line last October, I haven't gone for a walk or hit the gym. Needless to say, the fat that I left back along that 26.2 mile course has finally caught up with me. Seems you can't quite outrun your body's natural proclivity without fierce diligence.

Attempted to stay on the right path with a healthy breakfast from a nearby heath restaurant. No more than two hours had passed when my hunger returned with a vengeance. Had a healthy snack. An hour later -- ravenous. I'm not feeling so positive about this healthy stuff right now.

And trying to figure out how to squeeze in time for a walk or some other 30 minutes of cardio this week is giving me such a tension headache that I feel like chucking the whole thing.

Does anyone know if shlepping counts as exercise? I've got an entire library to pack up in the next four days and I'd really love to get exercise points for getting everything boxed up and into my car!

Frume Sarah the Writer?

2006-04-20T21:13:00.000-07:00

It's true. I was asked today to submit an 850 word essay about my upcoming DC trip to the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles. The editor asked that I craft an article about the DC rally from a first-person experience. She would like a reflection of the experience, the challenges, the highs and lows of the journey and rally -- in other words, a really long Frume Sarah blog entry!

How thrilling! How exciting! I finally get to realize one of my fantasies -- to be an essayist. E. B. White. Anna Quindlen. Frume Sarah.

OK, not exactly. But for one brief moment, I can pretend, can't I?

Dayeinu!

2006-04-20T10:06:00.000-07:00

A true liberation as we move past the matzah and eggs of Pesach and towards the blintzes of Shavuot. I feel as if a weight has been lifted. The children seem no worse for the wear after their self-imposed hunger strike. Apparently Beernut tried to convince his teachers at school that Pesach ended on Monday night and that "my Mommy must have forgotten and packed me a Passover lunch, but it's OK if you give me pizza for lunch today." Luckily, the staff has enough experience with 5 year olds to know not to trust their judgement in such matters.

Why is this room different from all other rooms?

2006-04-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

Second night seder at Mile Square Banquet Facilities.

I hadn't been to this place since December 15, 1988. Almost twenty years ago and I really do remember it like it was yesterday. The Fountain Valley High School Troubadours were singing at the local Rotary Club or Chamber of Commerce Holiday Lunch. [Guess I don't remember it as well as I thought.]

Anyway, there I was in my turquoise blue choir dress and black jazz shoes, belting out "Mary Had A Baby" when I saw him. What was my dad doing at my choir show in the middle of a work day? And what was that he was holding? Ithaca? Is that an Ithaca College pamphlet in his hand? Wait...is today the day I'm supposed to hear from Ithaca? Oh my God! This must only mean one thing!!

Everyone has their "Say Anything" moment and this was mine. OK so it wasn't exactly like in the movies. John Cusack wasn't there holding the boom box over his head. But having my dad triumphantly waving the Ithaca info over his head was the next best thing.

The Return of FS

2006-04-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

I haven't really gone anywhere but I've returned after 13 days of silence.

I think it was John Lennon who said something about life happening while you're making other plans.

I've been meaning to write...really! But then life keeps getting in the way.

Anyway, would it surprise you to know that Pesach starts one week from tonight and Frume Sarah hasn't even begun the process of changing out her kitchen?

It's the same damn story every year. I think I have a mental block to this chag. I mean, it isn't as though Pesach sneaks up on me. In fact, a few days before Purim, I am already getting that sinking feeling inside. "It's just four weeks away...just four weeks away..." I simply despise this holiday.

It's not the seder...so don't start writing in about how much you love the seder and how great Passover is because you love the seder, blah, blah, blah. Uh...hello? Passover is waaaaaaaaaaaaay more than the seder -- all three of them! (The Frume Sarah Family Seder on night one, the Congretional Seder on night two, & the PC Family Seder on the Saturday night during Pesach) If it was just about the seder...I'd freakin' love this holiday! Are you kidding me? Frume Sarah is all about rites and rituals. The Seder is like the epitome of Bibliodrama. Sign me up!

It's the food. I just can't deal with the pesadike food. And now that I have kids (one of whom is even pickier than I ever was!), it is even more complicated. There are just so many restrictions and I have trouble figuring out what to make and I don't like most of it and so on and so on.

You know...I could eat whatever I wanted in the house and no one would be the wiser. If keeping Pesach to such an extent is such a burden, I could just chuck the whole thing.

And yet...

Generations of oppression and forty years in the desert. Does my discomfort really compare to those of our ancestors? It's a small price to pay for freedom, this yearly commemoration.

So while I complain bitterly, and belive-you-me I do complain bitterly, I feel a deep sense of gratitude that I can enjoy my religion and customs free from the bondage and enslavement of generations past. Each grumble is matched by a silent prayer of gratitude to the Freedom Fighter, who brought me out of slavery to a place of redemption.

Is Frume Sarah AWOL?

2006-03-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

No such luck. my treasured readers. Just overwhelmed with the pre-Purim preparations. I've got many things to report. Finding the time, however, has been a challenge. So I will do my best to share some of my recent musings over the next day or so and then I am off to Boston for a conference -- without -- HORRORS -- access to the internet!

Stay tuned...

Today's Lesson

2006-03-14T22:00:00.000-08:00

Today was a day of frivolity. Of masquerading. And of carefree joy. Were it not for brave Esther, who took an unpopular and potentially fatal stand so many years ago, we would certainly not be here today.

Purim is a holiday free from normalcy and rules. Not only are we encouraged to gamble, cross-dress, and drink to excess, but we make fun of a sacred text and of ourselves. Don’t be fooled, however, into thinking that Purim is a trivial or minor holiday. In fact, so important is Purim that it will be the only holiday celebrated during Messianic times for even in a perfect world, we will still need to laugh at ourselves.

The story of Purim takes its name from the Hebrew word, pur, which means “lot” (as in lottery), for in the Megillah, Haman cast lots to pick a date for the slaughter of the Jewish people.

This story is without a doubt the oddest one in our Bible. The name of God does not appear – not even once! Its sexual shenanigans, philandering king, and violence are the stuff of soap operas and melodrama. Its dark undertones and giddy triumph over mortal danger, though, has always made it a favourite among a people with a long history of persecution and unhappy endings.

Is bravery reserved only for folktales and legends? Can we measure up to the valor of our ancestors and take the risks necessary to preserve Jewish life in contemporary times? Or if given the opportunity, will we take two steps back just because it is easier than taking that one step forward?

Ugly voices call for our destruction. Not in Babylonia. Nor in Shushan. Nor in Berlin in 1938. But right here. And right now. The President of Iran calls for our demise. And we do nothing. Hatred pours forth on college campuses across North America -- indeed even in my very own neighbourhood -- and still we do nothing. What will it take for us to gather together and say “no more!” When will we rise up in the manner of Esther and Mordechai and say “enough!”

On this day of rejoicing, O God, point the way to peace for all Your people. Give us the strength to stand up in the face of derision. On this day of remembering our deliverance, O Gracious One, deliver us from all hatred. Point us to a place of tolerance, partnership, and peace.

One Shot Too Many

2006-03-14T10:54:00.000-08:00

Dear Loyal Readers,

I have many thoughts to share as I have not had the chance to write at all this past week. However, I have a pounding headache and it's got Slivowitz written all over it!!

I just returned to my desk after hearing the least satisfying Megillah reading I've ever heard in my life. One of the agencies in our building (there is a reason I'm a diehard BJE supporter) arranged for a Megillah reading. 5 people came. This is not a misprint. 5 people...out of all the Jews who work in this building. Well, 6 if you count the reader. Or maybe just 2 if you only count the men. The reader was from Chabad and in fact the only other man present recited the blessing on our behalf. Although women are also commanded to hear the reading, we can't actually say the blessing. Um...someone explain this to me. And a real explanation -- not just a cynical, pseudo-Ortho explanation.

The reading of the Megillah on Purim is one of those time-bound mitzvot that women are actually obligated to observe. The reason is, according to Rabbi Yehosua ben Levi, that they too were involved in the miraculous rescue from certain death at the hands of Haman.

What does this mean? The Rashbam (in Pesachim 108b) points out that it is a woman (Esther!) who brought about the rescue in the first place. I think that this is a great reason. The Tosafot, however, disagree with this reasoning. I suspect that it is not a slight to Esther. Rather, the Tosafot, in true Tosafot-form, focus on the grammatical problem presented by the phrase "they too." How could ben Levi's statement point to a woman's primary involvement in the story (e.g. Esther) when this phrase seems to indicate something else? So the explanation favoured by the Tosafot is that since the women were equally threatened by Haman's evil decree, so too were they equally saved. Also, a great reason.

Now Rashi points out that since women have an obligation equal to that of men, women are eligible to read the Megillah and any men hearing that reading will fulfill his obligation. A man way beyond his time. Sadly,his opinion is contested by the Baal Hilchot Gedolot, who states that the obligation for women is to hear the reading not the actual act of reading...while men have the obligation to read it. Therefore, when one man hears it read by anbother man, it is considered as if he has read it himself. Not the case if a woman has read it. If you'd like to take a closer look at this and try to come to a comfortable conclusion (good-luck!), check out Orach Chaim 689:2 (that's in the Shulchan Aruch, compiled by your friend and mine, Joseph Caro).

Back to this morning's reading -- so the Megillah chanter sped through the reading so fast that it was damn-near impossible to follow along. The law clearly states that every word must be heard in order to fulfill the mitzvah of reading the Megillah. I'm sorry but there is no way that the Speedy Gonzales method of reading would have satisfied the Sages of old.

There is a tradition that I'd never seen (I think that few Reform shuls observe it)until today and that is the congregational participation in the recitation of four key verses, known as the verses of redemption:

1. There was a Jewish man in Shushan, the capitol whose name was Mordechai, son of Yair, son of Shim'i, son of Kish, a Benjaminite. (2:5)
2. Mordechai left the King's presence clad in royal apparel of blue and white with a large gold crown and a robe of fine linen and purple, then the city of Shushan was cheerful and glad. (8:15)
3. The Jews had light and gladness, and joy and honour. (8:16)
4. For Mordechai the Jew was viceroy to King Ahasuerus; he was a great man among the Jews, and popular with the mulititude of his brethern; he sought the good of his people and was concerned for the welfare of all his posterity. (10:3)

A nice tradition actually, and one that I would love to introduce to my shul. Needless to say that at this morning's reading, I was the only one in the "congregation" reading the verses and to be honest, I didn't read all that well. I was too busy trying to figure out where we were. And the man who was the only one kosher enough to recite the brachot on our behalf -- well, he didn't say much.

So what did we learn today children?

I learned that I like the way we do things in the Reform community -- most of the time, that is. I like that our Megillah reading is in a language that we all understand. I like that it is read slowly and with feeling. I like that men and women must take equal responsibility for their own obligations to God.

And now, I am going to take more medicine for my headache and head down to get ready for our Purim carnival. I shall return with further Purim musings.

In the meantime, be happy, it's Adar!!

Chag Purim Sameach!

Jewish Choices

2006-03-07T12:36:00.000-08:00

Dear "Emily,"

I've been thinking about you ever since you rushed up to me two weeks ago with the news that you'd broken up with your boyfriend. "I wanted to tell you because I knew that you'd be happy!" you exclaimed. "And I'm dating someone from school, which I also know would make you happy," you continued.

You're right -- I am happy that you are no longer seeing your former flame. Not because I wish you unhappiness or angst, but because I want you to marry a Jew. And even though you are only in high school, "Em," you are already establishing the dating habits that will one day lead to marriage.

Before you jump up and accuse me of racism or prejudice, let me point out that my desire for you to marry a Jew is not motivated out of a dislike of non-Jews. It is out of my concern to preserve our heritage. In other words it isn't "them" -- it's me!! A political conservative who chooses only to date other conservatives is not being racist. Nor is a vegetarian who refuses to date a carnivore. It is not racist to limit one's dating options to those who share certain interests or beliefs. When a certain position is important to us, it is understandable that we would choose only to date like-minded people. Remember also that anyone can potentially become Jewish through conversion. Racists wouldn't invite the people they hate to join their group -- and we do!

"Emily," I've had the honour to watch you grow from a cute little girl into a lovely young woman, and I care a great deal for you and your family. As one of your rabbis, I have partnered with your parents in instilling in you the values and teachings of our Tradition. And one value that is incredibly important is that you marry Jewish.

Your parents have done an admirable job in this area. They've connected with our shul and have maintained their affiliation as active members long past the Bat Mitzvah services of both you and your sister. They send you to a Jewish Day School, belong to the JCC, and support your participation in our local Bureau of Jewish Education programs. Judaism is a living part of your home, and they've done everything they could do to show you how Judaism is important to them.

Now it's your turn. From the moment you leave for college in the fall, you will determine your own Jewish choices. Hillel or not? AEPhi or another house? Missing class on the holidays or not? Dating exclusively Jewish or not?

The statistics are overwhemingly against you. Just under 50% of our young people are marrying out of the faith. So if you are committed to marrying a Jew, the odds are not in your favour. And for those who are not committed to marrying Jewishly, the evidence shows that Judaism will stop with them and not continue to the next generation. "The truth is, not more than about a third of the products of mixed marriage identify Jewishly," said Jonathan D. Sarna, a professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University. "There is a great fear that if a small Jewish community simply acquiesces to a situation of high intermarriage, that pretty soon, do the math, that a small community, which is really an endangered religious species, will simply disappear."

Given all of this, the most important reason for marrying a Jew is because I want you to find a life partner who will join you on your own Jewish journey. Not because I want you to rear Jewish children (which I do) or because I worry about statistics (which I also do), but because ultimately I believe that Judaism is the language of your soul and I want you and your soulmate, your b'shert, to speak the same language.

So yes, "Emily," I am happy for you. Happy that you came to your own conclusion to end a relationship with a non-Jew. And happy that you are seeing a "nice Jewish boy" from school. And proud that you are making good Jewish choices.

May the Holy One continue to bless you on your journey...

Purim is Coming!!

2006-03-03T10:20:00.000-08:00

All I needed to know about being a Jewish parent I did not learn in Rabbinical School. You see, Rabbinical School was only five years and in my case, BC – Before Children. I learned much important and practical information. However, it is the ongoing journey of Jewish parenthood that has been the impetus for ritual creativity.

Take Purim. To some, our annual costumed festival might look like a Jewish Halloween. These two holidays could not be more different. Purim costumes are always for fun with no intention to scare others. Also, Purim is all about giving rather than getting. The focus is not on receiving candy. Rather, it is our custom to give Shalach manos (gifts of food) to friends and tzedakah to the needy.

As I have mentioned before, I’m not a lover of Halloween. I am, however, a huge fan of Purim. I love the costumes and the frivolity of this holiday. The raucous and bawdy behaviour that is forbidden in shul but this one time of year. Our family really gets into this holiday and talk of what we will be wearing to shul has been a favourite topic over the past few weeks.

And this sparked a moment of sudden creativity – to take an annual family picture in costume. By no means an original idea as I suspect many families do this around Halloween. However, why not take this opportunity to remind our kids that we have our own “dress-up” holiday? It is, what we professionals like to call, a teachable moment! When we parents make a very big deal about a particular practice or behaviour, we draw our children’s attention to it. Purim is a very big deal. Its silly nature veils the serious lesson of the day; that the world is a changeable and sometimes dangerous place for minorities, and that in order to survive, we have had to take risks and stick together. We look to Esther as a role model of a Jewish woman who is not only a beauty queen, but a real person who acts to save her people.

So it's time for a new Purim tradition. I dog-dare, double-dare you to make Purim a delightful celebration in the life of your family. Pull out those costumes, head over to the portrait studio, mug for the camera, and then head over to shul for the megillah reading. I promise – you’ll have memories to last a lifetime.

Be Happy, it’s Adar!!

Whose Rules?

2006-03-01T09:09:00.000-08:00

Cancer happens to other people. Right? It doesn't happen to you. Or me. Or the young. Or the good.

Hogwash.

Cancer does happen to you. And me. And the old. And the young. And the good. And the bad. It crosses socio-economic, racial, religious, and political lines. Cancer does not discriminate.

And this past month, I learned of three pre-menopausal women diagnosed with breast cancer. Two of them under the age of 38.

So guess what? Cancer doesn't follow our rules. Cancer plays by its own rules. It's aggressive and lethal.

Our tactic should be equally as aggressive. What are you doing to help in the war against cancer?

Susan Komen Foundation
Retinoblastoma International
Leukemia and Lymphoma Society
American Cancer Society
Important Breast Cancer legislation(Lifetime Channel)
Sharsheret (Linking Young Jewish Women in the Fight Against Breast Cancer)
Y-ME National Breast Cancer Organization
The Breast Cancer Site

Each link will take you to a site that provides patient services, medical information, and ways that you can help. A Google search will yield even more cancer resources. These are just a few of the cancer sites I visit on a regular basis.

Baruch Ata Adonai rofeh hacholim.
Blessed are You, O God, Healer of the sick.

Is this a sign?

2006-02-27T20:41:00.000-08:00

So I haven't run a blessed step since I completed my first (only?) marathon exactly four months ago.

Then, out of nowhere, I receive a package from Nike. To thank me for my "outstanding fundraising accomplishments" in the Nike Women's Marathon last fall! These are not your average parting gifts either.

Contents:

one Imara Run watch

one Women's Large Duffel Bag

one pair of Shox lightweight socks

one shoe wallet

one hydration pack

When PC saw these gifts, he remarked, "too bad you've given up running."

I've had a few days to mull this over and now I'm thinking "maybe it's a sign."

Knitting Update

2006-02-27T13:41:00.000-08:00

So my Grandma was right. [Wasn't she a pretty little girl? I almost said "cute," Grandma, but I know how you feel about that description!] Knitting does get easier with a lot of practice. I've torn out all of my stiches (3 times!) and finally seem to be getting the movement down smoothly. Even PC remarked how straight and even my stiches seem to be!

Everyone has advice. "You should use bigger needles in the beginning," one woman suggested. "Working on a project is a better motivation that just practicing stitches," commented another. "Think loose!" advised yet a third.

I just keep stitching away, nodding, and taking the advice that makes sense and thanking everyone who offers their expertise. And I keep reading. It turns out that there is another way to hold the yarn that works a bit easier than the way I had been doing it. Experimentation and keeping an open mind are going to be valuable tools for me -- great life lesson too.

"When I be five, I knit too!" exclaimed Poppyseed. God-willing, my Grandma will share her skills with yet another generation.

Amen!

Lemon Juice

2006-02-25T22:38:00.000-08:00

I can still hear his laughter ringing through the theatre.

Other people must have been laughing because the antics of the Marx Brothers are irresistable. But it is my dad's unmistakable laugh, not to mention the knee-slapping, that resounds in my memory today. This is a guy who really enjoys his comedies.

Duck Soup, I think it was. It wasn't just the movie that was memorable, but the theatre. Back in the "old days," there was a private screening room in the old MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas. They ran old films all day long and an usher would bring popcorn and soft drinks to the guests who were reclining on divans and sofas.

Anyway, this past Thursday, I saw a screening of Ushpizin
at the Pacific Jewish Film Festival. What a delightful film. If you have not had the chance to see it, you will be happy to know that it is scheduled to be released on DVD in April. I highly recommend it as well as the critics.

It was interesting, entertaining, and very well acted. Culture warning -- you'll need to enjoy reading your dialogue unless you were paying really close attention in Hebrew school! That's right -- this Israeli film is in Hebrew. Because of the obvious delay, I was about a second or two ahead of the audience and my laughter would ring throughout the theatre well ahead of others. Except that many a time, it was lonely laughter. Apparently no one told the other patrons that this was a dramatic comedy. In fact, several times, the ladies directly behind me would snigger "what is that lady laughing about? This isn't funny?"

I don't know about you...but watching a religious man realize that his secular houseguests had sliced open his $1,000 etrog [thinking that it was a lemon] and drizzled the juice on his salad was funny to me.

The Frozen Chosen

2006-02-25T22:20:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or are we actually taking over the world? The world of figure skating, that is.

This is amazing.

Of the three ladies who won medals, two are Jewish. Sasha Cohen (Silver) is an MOT (member-of-the tribe).

So is Russia's Irina Slutskaya (Bronze)

Emily Hughes, who replaced Michelle Kwan on the US team, is also Jewish. [That means, of course, that her older sister, Sarah, who is the 2002 Gold medalist, is also Jewish. Sarah was the very first member of the tribe to capture a gold medal in figure skating at the 2002 Winter Olympics.]

In the ice dancing category, all three of the U.S. ice dance couples at the Olympics feature one Jewish partner.

Melissa Gregory (partnered and married to Denis Petukhov) is Jewish.

So is Jamie Silverstein (partnered with Ryan O'Meara).

So is Chicago-born Jew, Ben Agosto (partnered with Tanith Belbin, a recently naturalized Canadian) who won a Silver medal -- the first for the US in Ice Dancing in 30 years.

For the record: Though he claims to be "a little bit Jewish," Johnny Weir was was raised Catholic.

Definitely not an MOT.

Are you there Moses? It's Me, God

2006-02-23T22:13:00.000-08:00

Last week was such an exciting week. Remember? We recalled what we would consider the watershed moment of our ancestors. It was in past week’s Torah portion that the Children of Israel came face-to-face with God. It was in that moment that our covenantal relationship was established and sealed for all time. It was our Sinai moment, and it was so powerful that the Israelites instructed Moses to carry on the conversation...without them. So moved were they that they could no longer bear to be in God’s Presence.

In this week’s portion, therefore, God draws Moses near to Him in order to convey the terms of the covenantal agreement...alone. Without us.

God said to Moses, “Come up to Me on the mountain and be there, and I will give you the stone tablets with the teaching and commandments which I have inscribed to instruct them.” (Exodus 24:12)

A very straightforward verse and yet there seems to be a redundancy in the first half when God says. “come up to Me…and be there.” Where else would Moses be but “there?” The Kotzker Rebbe, who had the same question, teaches that “come up to Me” speaks of Moses’ physical location while “be there” is God’s way of telling Moses to be mentally present as well.

How often do we find ourselves just going through the motions? We are certainly physically present but we are not always mentally engaged. We get home from a long day at work and go through the mail or messages while our children try to engage us in conversation. We are there in person, but definitely not in spirit. This week’s portion strives to be our mental check. “Make certain,” God says, “that you are fully involved in My sacred work. It is not enough to just show up!”

May we learn from this to connect on every level in order to achieve God’s imperative to His servant Moses.

Keyn y’hi ra-tzon – May this be God’s Will!

"Maimonides, What Say You?"

2006-02-22T09:52:00.000-08:00

I love the Olympics! I am actually one of those crazy people who watch skeleton, biathalon, and luge. For the same reason that I watch badminton, track and field, & archery. The pageantry. The sportsmanship. The artistry. The athleticism. I am in awe. And having trained and completed my first (only?) endurance event this year, I have an even greater appreciation for the athletic pursuit.

Of all the sports, I have always love ice skating the most. My laundry list of reasons are no different from anyone else's list [poetry in motion, dazzling spins, Ice Castles, etc.]. Except for this -- my favourite childhood babysitter was an ice skater. And her teacher, if my memory has not been warped by the passage of time, skated on the Donny & Marie show. And that was just sooooo cool!! We even had a picture of my sitter in a blue skating dress posing in front of a winter background. I loved that picture and I loved that sitter. [For the record, my former sitter's son will become Bar Mitzvah in six months, and I'll be on the bimah for it. Who would have thought??]

Whether watching Kristi Yamaguchi skate to gold in Lillehammer from my hotel room in Paris (1992) to watching the 1995 World Championships at Beit HaNasi (Jerusalem) to watching Tara Lipinski skate to gold in Nagano in the Cooks' family room in Rockville Center. I am enthralled with this sport and secretly dream of taking lessons and learning how to skate.

Thanks to TiVo, I have been able to watch every blessed moment of figure skating from Turino. Some of the moments have been breathtaking. And some, well... Is it just me or does skating sometimes bring out the oddity in people?

I have two words -- Johnny Weir. Here's a third word -- excessive. And if you don't think that owning 40 pieces of Louis Vitton luggage is excessive, just read the rest of the Washington Post article.

The RamBaM said it best:

a wise man will carefully avoid excess, lest he give the impression of haughtiness. (Yad: Deot, 1180, 5.7)

Too late.

Betwixt and Between

2006-02-21T09:26:00.000-08:00

Is it an awful thing to admit that I sometimes tire of discussing the Middle East?

I shudder even as I write this, but it is true. Sometimes I just want to talk about something else. And yet, I can't help but scour the headlines daily for news about our homeland.

I never completely feel at home...in either place. I am a proud and loyal American. My family has been here for three generations, my grandfather served in the Army, and I consider myself American. And yet my Judaism sets me apart from the majority and I am keenly aware of a sense of otherness. When I am in Israel, I am set apart by both my American-ness (that is not really a word, of course.) and my Reform ideology. And still, I feel a sense of belonging there that I cannot describe.

So when I tire of the discussion, I feel guilty. Guilty because in fact I have no right to tire of a discussion that does not directly impact my physical well-being. It is rather chutzpadic of me to arbitrarily decide when I feel like thinking about the political mess in Israel and when I would rather pretend that it does not exist. You can bet that for Israelis, they would love to have the freedom to take a day off from the national tension that has become part and parcel of living in Israel.

And so I once again direct you to Rabbi Daniel Gordis, whose dispatch this week once again elucidates so poignantly what it means to live in Israel. And I am particularly excited to report that Rabbi Gordis's new book Coming Together, Coming Apart: A Memoir of Heartbreak and Promise in Israel is scheduled to be published this summer. If his earlier writings are any indication, this will be a passionate and insightful look into the soul of our people.

In the meantime, as the Psalmist urges,

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; May those who love you prosper. May there be peace be within your walls, and prosperity within your palaces. (Psalm 122:6-7)

Amen v'amen.

Knit One, Purl Two?

2006-02-20T21:01:00.000-08:00

Ok...well I'm not really up to the purl part yet. After about four hours, I'm still trying to get the knit stitch down pat.

I decided some weeks ago that it was time to learn to knit. PC thinks that I'm crazy for taking on something else. Since I've given up running, I figure that I should fill that time with some other worthwhile activity -- and knitting seems to fit the bill.

All of the women in my family are accomplished needle workers. Knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, sewing. A few half-hearted attempts as a young girl and I seemed destined not to join their ranks. Lack-of-patience or perhaps a lack-of-talent. Who knows? Luckily for me, I was born into a generation that did not require young ladies to perfect their needle skills.

Or maybe not so lucky. Instead of being tormented in my youth, I struggle with a new skill in my adulthood. And that adage about old canines isn't so wrong. It is not impossible to acquire a new talent, but it is certainly more difficult to do so as we grow older. So while my childhood was free of the painstaking hours earlier genreations of girl spent knitting rows and then tearing out imperfect stitches, and for that I am thankful, I now wrestle with clumsy hands to create something that might have come much easier to my younger self.

It turns out that you can't actually learn everything just by reading. That's not to say that a little advance research won't help with a new skill. At a certain point, however, one just needs to learn by doing.

I decided to enlist the help of my grandmother. As the matriach of our family, and a most accomplished seamstress, I figured that she would have much to offer in the way of advice and expertise. And even though I have heard many of our family stories from her, I hoped that other information would flow as freely as the knitting needles. [I feel accomplished already for just 10 days ago, I referred to these as "knitting sticks."]

What did I learn during our first lesson?
I learned that knitting requires an awful lot of concentration and patience in the very beginning.
I learned that my grandmother was taught to knit when she was about 15 by a tenant that lived in one of the buildings owned by my great-grandmother.
I learned that the very first sweater that my grandmother knitted was for her beloved brother Henry and that he was wearing it the day that he died.

I didn't know any of those things. The first item I would have discovered on my own, but I could have never uncovered the other two facts had we not been sitting together and knitting.

I don't expect to make great things. If I do, an added benefit. What I am hoping is to to learn great things. Information that will add to my story.

The truth according to whom?

2006-02-17T11:54:00.000-08:00

It’s all about perception. Didn’t someone once say that perception is ninety percent reality? Or as Christopher A. Ray wrote, “Perception is merely reality filtered through the prism of your soul.”

Take this week’s Torah portion. After 400 years of Egyptian enslavement and a close escape through the Sea of Reeds, we finally come face-to-face with our God. The details of this experience, as well as our forty years of desert wanderings, will be recorded by Moses. It will be his voice that will reach across the generations, keeping our history alive in every age. Therefore, it will be his perception that will colour our story.

What about the other voices? How can we know a complete story if the other voices are silent? And how would our understanding be altered if we could hear someone else’s perception?

We All Stood Together
My brother and I were at Sinai
He kept a journal
of what he saw
of what he heard
of what it all meant to him
I wish I had such a record
of what happened to me
It seems like every time I want to write
I can't
I'm always holding a baby
one of my own
or one of my friend’s
always holding a baby
so my hands are never free
to write things down
And then
As time passes
the particulars
the hard data
the who what when where why
slip away from me
and all I'm left with is
the feeling
But feelings are just sounds
The vowel barking of a mute
my brother is so sure of what he heard
after all he's got a record of it
consonant after consonant after consonant
If we remembered it together
we could recreate holy time
sparks flying
(Merle Feld, A Spiritual Life: A Jewish Feminist Journey Albany: SUNY Press, 1999, p. 205)

When we hear stories from our children, do we stop and take into account that the facts are being presented from their perspective and may not be the whole story? Conversely, when we form an opinion about something, do we heed the fact that our children may have a very different perspective of the same situation? Poppyseed once took a class that I didn’t think was as good as it “should” have been. And yet, Poppyseed loved it! She could not wait to go to class each week and was sad when it was over. Looking through her eyes, I saw a completely different experience and learned to value the class for what she got out of it rather than what I expected.

As we read our people’s story of revelation, may we remember that we are hearing only one side of a multi-faceted story and learn ways to filter stories through the prisms of other souls.

Kol Tuv!

Where is everyone??

2006-02-16T15:17:00.000-08:00

I did anticipate a drop in my readership now that the voting for this year's JIB awards has been completed. But my goodness, it's really been down the past couple of days. And it can't be in reaction to the lack of a good posting because (a) one would have to visit the site in the first place and (b) I've had some pretty good postings this week.

I mean...with just family alone I should be getting about two dozen hits a day ;)

Sydney Taylor

2006-02-16T13:18:00.000-08:00

On my way to lunch today, I was thinking about books. Typical since I am almost always thinking about books. It so happens that I was thinking about what book I will start reading next. Strange, I know. But I worry about this. What if I finish a book and I don't already have another title lined up and ready to go? Of course, this makes it seem as though I only read one book at a time and that's simply not the case. I am generally in the midst of several books simultaneously.

As I was considering my next read, I thought back to one of my favourite childhood books and decided it is time to revisit Sydney Taylor's series. Poppyseed is still to young to enjoy them and I don't want to wait another 5 years to reread them. That got me to thinking about the author herself. I know nothing about her! All I know is that I love her books and that a Jewish literary award is named in her honour.

A wonderful essay about Sydney Taylor appears on the Nextbook.org website. How ironic (?) that it should appear just this week -- the same week that I was thinking about this very thing. It turns out that Sydney Taylor's given name was Sarah and that she is the middle sister...with four sisters named Ella, Hennrietta, Charlotte, and Gertrude. Just like the book! There were four brothers, but, for reasons the article does not clarify, only one brother appears in her stories. These tales were originally conceived as stories that Mrs. Taylor would share with her own daughter and only became public when Mr. Taylor clandestinely entered one of his wife's manuscripts in a writing contest.

The essay, by author Melanie Rehak, is a particularly well-written and interesting one. It brings to light, however, a fact I found disheartening; Sydney Taylor had come out of this joyful childhood only to become an assimilated Jew. How does this happen? What hope do we have to raise children who will remain engaged and commited Jews when the childhood we offer is not steeped in Judaism as in earlier generations?

Maybe my angst has just been furthered by the valentine-incident of two days ago. Who knows. I mentioned it to the classroom teacher who wasn't exactly clear what the problem was. [Um...Jesus in the public school? Problem seems pretty clear to me.] Maybe I just worry that despite my best efforts to expose my children and their contemporaries to an exciting, meaningful, and beautiful faith and heritage, it just won't be enough. And I will have failed.

Much to say...no time to write!

2006-02-15T21:54:00.000-08:00

So I've got three entries I'm in the midst of crafting. However, I was slammed with a migraine (nasty things, I tell you) and PC finally returned after a 5 day business trip to NYC. Don't worry -- Frume Sarah will share her thoughts tomorrow ;)

Spreading the Good News

2006-02-14T22:27:00.000-08:00

Since I've already mentioned that I'm not a huge fan of Valentine's Day, I won't go into detail. Feel free to read about the origins of the holiday and draw your own conclusion as to why Frume Sarah might have an objection. PC is out-of-town and it didn't phase me at all. He gave me a card. I gave him a card. But if there had been no exchange of cards that would have been OK too.

Beernut brought home a bag filled with valentines, candy, stickers, and other chazzerai. It was not a mandatory event. Kids were given the option whether to distribute valentines or not. The only guideline was that the valentines were not to be addressed to the classmates. The teacher explained that in order not to take out too much time from the lessons, distribution would go more rapidly if the room moms could just put the valentines into the bags without worrying about which one belonged to which kid. OK -- so not the most meaningful valentine exchange in the world, but I appreciate the teacher not wanting to waste classroom time on this.

Beernut was so excited to go through his goodies. There were stickers, notepads, pencils, and candy. And he shared commentary on either the classmate or the particular valentine as we made our way through the loot.

"Scooby Doo! I love Scooby Doo." "Oooo...Spiderman. He is so cool." "Nicole is so nice." "Sponge Bob...he is my favourite" [OK, we've never watched Sponge Bob in our house. How did he fall in love with that yellow sponge?]. "Cool basketball one."

Except, silly little unathletic boy, it's a soccer ball not a basketball. And it says "God's Love. The Ultimate. John 3:16. Established in the beginning." On the back, it has the John 3:16 quote. The first part of the quote, that is. [For those who are unfamiliar with this particular quote, I encourage you to take a look the next time you stay overnight in a hotel.]

I don't subscribe to this theology. Beernut doesn't. Our family doesn't. I am not making a judgement statement about this theology. Just acknowledging that it is someone else's and not ours. And though I know that spreading the good news (this is the definition of "gospel" after all!) is a key tenet of the Christian faith, it blows my mind that any parent would think that a valentine with a strong theological message is an appropriate one to pass out to a bunch of five and six year old children -- in a public school!

Do I say something to the teacher? The room moms? The principal? Do I place a call to the ADL? Is this a battle worth fighting? Is this the price I must pay for sending my son to public school?

At what point do we just sit back and try to blend in with the majority culture? We believe strongly in the public school system, and feel fortunate to live in an area filled with superior school districts. Learning to be a part of the larger community and how to reconcile one's Judaism with the host culture are important life skills. We expect Beernut and Poppyseed to live in America (though they are mostly free to make their own choices!) so it will be imperative for them to know how to live as Jews in a Christian majority.

That being said, I am just left with a bad taste in my mouth.

I knew I didn't like this holiday!

The Scent of A Woman

2006-02-14T07:26:00.000-08:00

I love perfume! The bottles are so pretty. And I find that my mood matches the scent I've chosen on any given day.

When I was younger, I thought that I would one day find a signature scent. After all, my mother wears Shiseido and my Tante H wears White Shoulders. To this day, smelling these scents conjures up a vision of either woman. I've searched long and hard and yet that one perfect scent has eluded me.

I started out, like most teenage girls of the '80's, wearing Love's Baby Soft. Tante H gave me Nina Ricci's L'Air du Temps for Chanukah one year and I really loved that. It was my first "grown-up" scent. Chanukah 5750 -- my parents gave me Anais Anais. Ah...I fell in love with this scent and really felt that this was the one. As it so happens, I had fallen in love with a certain young man and felt that he was the one too. However, the scent didn't do it for him...and one of them had to go. I married the young man...and ditched the perfume.

The certain young man had selected a wonderful scent for me in celebration of our wedding. We really thought that we had come upon "the" scent with Jessica McClintock. Oddly, this beautiful scent takes a nasty turn when it hits my skin. Sadly, this was not to be.

The next several years saw a number of scents come and go: Sunflowers, Tommy Girl, Tommy Girl Freedom, Clinique Happy, Clinique Happy Heart. All lovely scents. And though PC enjoyed these, they just haven't felt right to me.

There had been a certain scent that PC had long admired and finally after unsuccessfully trailing after women in public places, he finally got the name!
Estee Lauder Beautiful Sheer. A sweet, floral fragrance. He loves it...and I think that it is fine.

So here's the question: for whom am I wearing perfume? If the purpose is to be alluring to my beloved, than does it really matter what I think of the scent??

"Yes!" scream my feminist friends. "No!" shout my traditional friends. What does Frume Sarah say?

"On the one hand, it is important to captivate my husband. After all, as a Jewish woman, the creation, growth, and stability of a family is my paramount responsibility. On the other hand, if wearing a particular scent makes me feel good about myself, is it not to my advantage to select something that I really love?"

And so the search continues. A recent stop at the frangrance counter yielded the following recommendations [and more importantly, samples!]:

Donna Karan Cashmere Mist
Chanel Chance
Valentino V Absolu
Dolce & Gabanna Light Blue
Ralph Lauren Pure Turqoise

Stay tuned for the results.

Four Recent Experiences That Made Me Feel Like My Mother

2006-02-13T00:02:00.000-08:00

They say that at some point we are keenly aware that we have become our parents. Over the past 48 hours, I have had not one, not two, not three, but four experiences that brought me back to my childhood. Except now, I am the mommy and not the child.

1. Taking Beernut to the Pediatrician.
For a variety of reasons, we have decided to switch the kids to my childhood pediatrician. Since they are healthy, it seemed like a good idea to take a trip to the practice under calm circumstances. When Dr. P came in, he drew a face on a tongue depressor. I had totally forgotten that Dr. P and his partners do that. I can't tell you how many of those sticks we must have had around the house. In fact, I am confidant that ACE (PepGiraffe explains the monikers here.) probably still has a stockpile of decorated depressors hidden in the ole' homestead somewhere. It just felt so comforting to see that some things never change.

2. Wearing Bangle Bracelets.
Certain sounds just take you right back to days of yore. When I was little, my mom used to wear four gold bangle bracelets. My dad had given her each one to celebrate each birth of their children. Do you think that it was weird to just wear one? After all, PepGiraffe didn't show up until I was two. Did my mom only wear one? One bangle doesn't make any noise so I'm not sure I would have noticed. Whenever I wear my bracelets, the sound reminds me of my mom. It's a mom sound. Hey, I make a mom sound now...

3. Poppyseed Watching Me Get Ready for Work.
I loved to sit and watch my mom get ready for receptions or any of the other rebbetzin things for which she would get farpitzed. I thought she was so beautiful. "One day," I thought, "I'm going to get dressed just like her." One day is here...and Poppyseed tell me that I look pretty.

4. Beernut Zipping Up My Dress.
If my dad was already finished getting ready and my mom needed help with the zipper, then I got to help. I couldn't reach my zipper as I was getting ready for the Hall of Fame dinner last night. PC is in NYC for business (and poker with my sibs) and I needed some assistance. Beernut, who is growing more every day, still needed to stand on the bed in order to zip me up. He felt like such a big helper...and I felt like such a mom.

Will my children remember? Will they look back on days like this and remember these moments?

What Do I Know From Sports?

2006-02-12T22:57:00.000-08:00

Nothing, actually. I can think of fewer rabbis less qualified to deliver an invocation than I. And yet, radio personality Vic "The Brick" Jacobs called me up to the dais to deliver the opening remarks at the Inagural Orange County Jewish Sports Hall of Fame Dinner of Champions just a few hours ago.

I'd never actually heard of Vic the Brick. When our Board of Directors asked me if I'd ever heard him, I responded "he's not on NPR is he?" I know...and I don't mean to sound like a radio snob. It's just that the only stations I listen to with any regularity are KPCC (89.3) and KCRW (89.9) -- our local NPR affiliates. Neil Conan, Terry Gross, Lakshmi Singh, Robert Siegel -- these names I know. Vic the Brick? Never heard of him. Until tonight.

The Merage Jewish Community Center honoured the following individuals this evening:
Shawn Green, Leigh Steinberg, Jason Lezak, Rami Zur, Steve Bisheff and Merton Isaacman.

Out of this list, I'd only heard of two of these guys. [Can you guess which two?] And honestly, I couldn't have picked any of them out of a line-up if my very life depended on it.

So how, you might ask, of all the rabbis in the world did they pick me to deliver the invocation?

The guy they wanted was unavailable. Yep -- I was the pinch hitter. [See...I might not be athletic but reading the sports pages at least gives me the right vocabulary!]

I figured that at the very least I would have the opportunity to remind a bunch of Jews that a very important Jewish holiday began tonight -- Jewish Arbor Day ;)

There once was a man named Honi. He was walking along one day and saw a man planting a carob tree. Honi asked the man, "How long will it take for that tree to grow?"
The man replied, "Seventy years."
Honi looked shocked as he asked, "How do you know that you will live another seventy years?"
"I don't, but just as my grandparents and parents planted for me, I am planting this tree for the generations to come," replied the man.

Tonight, on this eve of Tu B’shvat, our celebration of trees, we celebrate these outstanding individuals whose accomplishments are known throughout the world. Providing inspiration to young athletes across the globe, we will dedicate this wall tonight and for years to come will honour those who are planting the seeds for the next generation of athletes.

The poet Zelda wrote, “each of us have a name given by God, given by our parents, and given by our stature."

The world knows these athletes by their physical strength and glorious achievements. This is reason enough for these gentlemen to be recognized. But for our community, they are known to us for yet another reason. In addition to their athletic triumphs, they have continued to remain true to our faith, to our people, and to our God. For our children who will pass by this wall each and every day, these amazing individuals will be a constant reminder that one can climb to great heights while still embracing Judaism. And for that, we are thankful.

Baruch Atah Adonai ozeir Yisrael beeg'vurah.
Blessed are You who girds this people Israel with strength.

May you go from strength to strength and may this be God’s Will! Amen.

A pretty solid invocation, I thought.

Not one of these guys said a thing to me afterwards. Harumph! Like they meet a female rabbi every day.

Nothing to Say...

2006-02-11T22:17:00.000-08:00

Well, this is not entirely true. I always have something to say. But PC is on a business trip, my darling children were rather nightmarish today, I've got a pie in the oven (not a euphemism but an actual pie), and my house is a disaster. Plus the Olympics are on :)

So I'm calling it a night and will return (b'li neder - my intention but not actually an oath) with more Frume Sarah-isms tomorrow night.

Incidentally, on the way home from Bubbe and Zayde's tonight, Beernut wanted to know if they are done having children. "Is four all you get?" he wondered. I told him that four is all the Bubbe and Zayde got but now, thanks to some nuptials, the count is up to six children and two grandchildren. I then asked him how many he thought we should have. He thought for a minute and said "five. Five is the right number for us." Once I finished laughing, I explained that I didn't think that five children are in our future.

I also felt like pointing out that after their behaviour today, Beernut and Poppyseed can be secure that they won't have to share their rooms with any future sibs.

Cute kids.

35-40?

2006-02-09T14:10:00.000-08:00

I love surveys.

Isn't that funny?

Whenever I'd run across a survey statistic in a magazine or newspaper article, I would wonder, "who'd they ask? They didn't ask me. Why doesn't anyone ever ask me?"

So now, in my nonexistent spare time, I answer surveys. Not as a second career -- they're not that lucrative -- but as a hobby. Strange, I know.

I've answered questions about furniture, travel practices, shampoo, and granola bars. I've product tested conditioner, body lotion, and facial moisturizer. And in every case, I answered as a member of the 29-34 demographic.

But today...today was different. No longer could I automatically put an X in the 29-34 spot. I've moved up in the world, as they say. [Who are they anyway??]

Let's hear it for 35-40!!!

Mentchlikeit – the code of behaviour that involves acting like a mentch. Living an honest and compassionate life.

2006-02-08T11:33:00.000-08:00

Expressions of mentchlikeit can be found in the most surprising of places. Take the Sports section. Though we might expect examples of sportsmanship to be elucidated in the tales of games and competitions that fill the pages of the D section, I have found most articles focus on statistics, accounts of athletic prowess, and the all too frequent fan-incited riot.

This past weekend -- the one when I got to read the paper cover-to-cover -- I came across one of those feel-good stories that one might see as a made-for-TV movie on the Lifetime channel. Even without any overacting and hyperbolic dialogue, this story moved me to tears.

Responding to the cries of the crowd ("Put Kevin in! Put Kevin in!"), and with just five minutes remaining in the last home varsity game of the season, the coach put team manager Kevin Cogan on the court. The ball was passed to Kevin, who dribbled up to the basket and made the layup as he had done so many times in practice. The gym exploded with cheers from both sides of the court. Why the overwhelming response? This team manager has cerebral palsy.

The story in-and-of-itself is heartwarming. The line that really got me, however, was a quote from the team captain, J.J. Hernandez. "We played hard defense to get a lead and get Kevin in." This didn't just happen because a coach instructed his guys to give the poor disabled kid a chance to fulfill a dream. This happened because a compassionate group of young men saw an opportunity to help a teammate and embraced it. They fought hard to ensure the lead necessary to bring Kevin onto the court.

Is mentchlikeit of this order rare? I'd like to think not. I believe that the world is filled with people who are compassionate, kind, and giving. People who respond to the Divine Spark in others by extending themselves in ways both large and small.

But for those times when we lose hold of our optimism, we can remember Kevin, J.J. and the boys from Fullerton Union High.

Did you know...

2006-02-06T09:50:00.000-08:00

that 'recap' comes from a musical term? It does and you can thank my $80,000 music degree for that tidbit. A 'recapitulation' is the third movement of a sonata form, and a 'recap' is just a shortened form of the word.

You know me, though, so you are not surprised that there are two other definitions of 'recapitulation.' [1. a concise summary; 2. the hypothetical occurrence in an individual organism's development of successive stages resembling the series of ancestral types from which it was descended so that the ontogeny of the individual is a recapitulation of the phylogeny of its group. Hey, it pays to read a lot!!] The musical definition is actually the third definition. However, I don't exactly remember my theory professor presenting it that way...

Anyway, a recap of my awesome birthday solo-getaway starts NOW:

Hoping to leave as early as possible, I managed to tear myself from the homestead about 12:00 noon on Shabbos. It had been my intention to leave earlier and make a pit-stop [read: Barnes & Noble] on the way to the hotel. However, there were children to be bathed, dishes to be washed, and so forth. I popped the trunk, tossed in by overnight bag, cranked up Bette Midler, and set off for paradise.

To valet or not to valet? That is the question.

Heck...it's only a $5.00 difference and hey, it's my birthday.

Amanda was a great help at the reception desk. Pleasant, courteous, and upon hearing the wonderful package PC had put together, upgraded my room and gave me access to the concierge Lounge.

A quick trip to the room and then down to the spa.

The hotel has recently gone under a major renovation, including the construction of a spa. I've been to quite a few spas and this one is definitely one of the nicest. It will be even better once the construction is completed!

As I put my things into the locker, I was reminded of how like a mikvah experience this was. Or at least the romanticized mikvah experience of my imagination. Having only been to mikvah twice (a future posting on this topic is necessary), I desire a more regular dunking habit. And in my dream mikvah, it would actually resemble a day spa. And why not, ladies?? Rabbis?? Any reason why it couldn't??

I took a really, really long shower -- alone. Not just alone, but uninterrupted. If you've got kids, you know why this is worth mentioning. The whirlpool wasn't ready yet. Sadness. Neither was the cold foot plunge pool. Also sadness. I've never been a fan of heat so the sauna was out. Since the steam room was a Eucalyptus steam room, I gave it a try. Too hot -- even with the ice cold wash clothes covering my face. Smelled good, though.

By the way, did I mention that I'd left my eyeglasses in the locker?

And then it was time for my treatments to begin.

First - a Lavender and Salt exfoliation. Truly, one of the best exfoliations I've ever had.

Second - a Lavender Dreams massage. Pretty fab as well.

Finally - a facial customized for my particular skin type.

Two-and-a-half hours of pure relaxation and bliss. Would I be a nicer person if someone kneaded the tension away on a regular basis?

Shockingly, I was not ready for a nap upon reaching my room. I showered, visited the Concierge Lounge for some fruit, water, and cheese, and then walked over to a local book store. Though I try not to engage in commerce on Shabbos, I couldn't imagine not curling up with a book for a long, uninterrupted stretch of reading. I selected an enjoyable-looking book (The Ivy Chronicles) and grabbed a quick bite before heading back to my room...having an ice cream cone on the walk back. Why not? It's my birthday and I didn't have any cake.

It was a really fun book. Perfect for relaxing. And then I watched a movie on TV...just because I could. Ah, this is nice.

A huge King-size bed with luxurious pillows and a down comforter. A good night's sleep. Breakfast brought on a tray with a flower and the Sunday paper. I read the whole darn thing...every section...even the Classifieds! Just because I could.

Another solitary shower (what is that...like the third one in a 24 hour period?) and 45 minutes to style my hair. My goodness, it looks so good when I can do it without kids clinging to me.

And then...to the mall for some Sephora-therapy. Jessica worked on me for close to three hours. An improvement? Possibly. More importantly, it was just a delight to spend quality time with myself without worrying that there was somewhere else I should be.

PC gave me the best gift without my having to tell him what I needed most of all...time to myself.

Being with someone over half my life definitely has its advantages.

One of These Things is Not Like The Others...

2006-02-05T21:04:00.000-08:00

One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?

1978...1984...1989...1995...2001...2006

Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn't belong?
If you guessed this one ** 2001 ** is not like the others,
Then you're absolutely...right!

[Words and Music by Joe Raposo and Jon Stone ]

Figure it out yet?? Why is 2001 not like the other years? Clue: This has nothing to do with Pesach!!

In 1978, 1984, 1989, 1995, & 2006, my birthday fell on a Friday. And I remember each and every one of them.

Weird, I know. In fact, even though I have strong memories of my 7th birthday falling on a Friday, I checked it this morning because I thought it unlikely I could actually recall such a strange fact. Unlikely, perhaps -- but not impossible.

In many synagogues, people who are celebrating a birthday in a given month are invited to the bimah for a special blessing at the Family Service. My guess is that receiving a blessing on my actual birthday made such an impression that it's stayed with me all these years. I don't remember what I got as a present or even what we did to celebrate my birthday other than a special Shabbos dinner and going to shul.

Another one of those tip-offs?

1984 was my 13th birthday and I lead the service the following morning as a Bat Mitzvah. When I came to the Shabbos table on my actual birthday, a beautiful pair of silver candlesticks were at my place. Until then, my sister and I had shared a pair of brass candlesticks -- but now, like Jewish women throughout time, I would have my own pair. The same pair that would follow me from my parents' home to a home of my own.

1989 was my 18th birthday and what more is there to say? It was my senior year in high school, I had already been accepted into the college of my choice, had a boyfriend (PC!!!), a significant solo in Handel's Samson, and the lead the school musical. Life was good!

1995 was celebrated in Jerusalem. It was my first year in Rabbinical School and I led services in the HUC chapel in honour of my special day. It was a year of struggles and growth and discovery.

And, of course, this year was on a Friday. It was special as Friday birthdays always are. PC arranged doughnuts in the shape of '35' and captured Beernut serenading me with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" on my brand-new video camera. [Do we call it a digital camera since it is digital?] This was most significant as I am the official family photographer (still and video/digital) and appear in NO pictures or film! Poppyseed was the Shabbat Star (akin to Star of the Week) in school, MrsGiraffe watched Poppyseed while I took a long pre-Shabbos shluffy and then we went to shul for dinner and services. As expected, we were gone before the opening song! These kids just can't make it for the 7:00pm service yet. So I missed my blessing.

Or did I?

"And when the clock strikes midnight, Cinderella..."

2006-02-03T00:01:00.000-08:00

"...coach will turn back into a pumpkin."

OK, not really. But at midnight EST -- that's 9:00pm for those of us on the West Coast -- voting will officially end for this year's Jewish and Israeli Blog Awards.

So if my blog moves you, then vote for me. And if not, vote for someone whose words inspire you!

Click here!!

Take Good Care of Your Heart...

2006-02-02T15:12:00.000-08:00

He was only 58 years old. And had been given a clean bill of health just that week. So it's no surprise that an early Shabbos morning phone call from my mother was a complete shock. Heart attack.

We observed his 9th yahrtzeit this week. Though I named my firstborn after him, I sometimes still forget that my Uncle B, z"l, is gone. [Between the death of my Uncle B, z"l, and my Uncle A, z"l, the year before, we haven't had an operational VCR in our family for almost a decade.]

It is often referred to as "the silent killer," but is it so silent? There are clues. Vascular disease (including high blood pressure and high cholesterol) typically runs in families so it pays to know your history. If you are carrying extra weight, and you know who you are, you have cause to be concerned. In addition to the scale, a sedentary lifestyle is a strong contributing factor as is one's eating habits. Diabetes increases one's propensity, and need I mention smoking??

So not so silent if you know your risks, and if you know your risks, you can make changes in the areas that are changeable. Just as we can choose our friends and not choose our family, so too can we change behaviours and not change our genetics.

Early warning signs are important to know. And if you are female, it is particularly essential that you understand we tend to present with atypical symptoms. Consistent heart pain? Only 1/3 of women experience this during a cardiac episode verses 2/3 of men with the same ailment. Stomach upset? Common for women and not common for men. We need to know the warning signs especially in light of the fact that heart disease kills more women than all other types of cancer combined.

Tomorrow is National Wear Red Day, and I encourage you to participate. ItÂs a simple, powerful way to raise awareness of heart disease and stroke. By joining together with thousands of women, companies and organizations, and cities across America, you'll help the American Heart Association support ongoing research and education about women and heart disease.

How?

Contribute $5 to the American Heart Association's go red for women movement, and wear red and jeans. Your generous act of tzedakah will support vital research and education efforts. You will help save women's lives.

Do You Know The Secret Password?

2006-02-01T14:11:00.000-08:00

A young man was dating a non-Jewish girl, who was very interested in learning about Judaism. They took classes and the girlfriend expressed interest in going to synagogue. The young man, who was excited to bring his girlfriend to shul, spent a considerable amount of time describing what the service would be like ("standing, sitting, but no kneeling") and what she might expect ("great food after").

The evening arrived and progressed smoothly...or so the fellow thought. During the all-important car ride home, the girlfriend was seething. "What was the point of trying to make me comfortable when you didn't even tell me the secret password?" she sputtered.

You know. The secret password that the sweet Brotherhood usher or some other welcoming face proclaims when you cross the sanctuary threshold.

"Shabbat Shalom!"

Doesn't seem so threatening. And yet...imagine, if you will, what it would be like if you'd never heard these words before. What is an appropriate response? Is this a question? A statement? What reaction should it elicit?

All too often, those of us in the know unwittingly keep those who are not in the know in the dark. How often do the intellectual elite use phrases, words, or analogies that will be missed by others? How often do we use Jewish colloquialisms or vocabulary from the pulpit and inadvertently crack someone's fragile sense of belonging?

The above story is a true one, and got me thinking about what I can do to help close the gap between the haves and the have nots. After all, more and more of our congregations and centers are filled with people who were not immersed in the language and culture in the ways prior generations have been. And even those of us who were fortunate to be surrounded by such richness in our youth may not know the origins of so many of our phrases and customs. A perfect example? "Shabbat Shalom."

Believe-it-or-not, there are others like me out there who ponder the origins of such things. Others who are far more erudite and knowledgeable than I. In fact, Philologos writes a fabulous weekly column in the Forward on such matters and uncovers their philological origins. A recent installment of Philologos investigates the secret code, enlightening even those of us "in the know."

So the next time you insert "Shabbat Shalom" (Hebrew greeting meaning 'Sabbath of peace'), "farfallen" (Yiddish for 'a lost cause'), or "bimah" (Hebrew for 'raised platform,' and used generally to refer to the pulpit area in a synagogue) into the conversation, just remember that we are instructed not to put a stumbling block before the blind and to take this teachable moment -- and teach!

You Say It's Your Birthday...

2006-01-31T21:11:00.000-08:00

It doesn't take much to instigate a dark and dreary middle school or high school flashback. It seems that the most innocuous statement can send the ego spiraling back in time to former days of social ineptitude and adolescent awkwardness.

In other word, it doesn't take much to remind a geek of her innate geekiness!

What's this about? Birthdays. Mine in particular. I received an email today from the Sunshine Committee. This is a committee we have at work whose sole purpose is to make people feel included, important, and loved on the annual celebration of their entry into this world. The email was asking for any individual whose birthday falls in the month of February to identify him-or-herself. A seemingly beneign request, no?

No! I mean, yes, it is seemingly beneign...and no, it sent me over the edge. Now, we all know that I've had a stressful few days and so perhaps this was the proverbial straw. I've got another theory however...

Remember the really popular girls at school? The ones who would be greeted by birthday signs on the front of the front gate? Who would arrive at lockers decorated gaily by "best friends?" And who would prance around school all day with a balloon bouquet? Yeah...well so do I. And that was not me! I was the one whose birthday would go unnoticed. Not in the disturbing Sixteen Candles way. I mean my family is many things...and we may have held a birthday celebration or two on an alternate day. But no way would our parents actually *forget* our birthdays. Somehow, though, it was never enough. And when school friends would discover that it was my birthday (or that it had been my birthday), they would say things like "I can't believe you never said anything!"

Seriously now, what was I going to say? "Um, in case you didn't know -- because we obviously aren't as close as I thought we were -- my birthday is actually today and I feel like a complete dork because no one noticed." What is the right thing to actually say here? And if you tell people a few days ahead of time, their felicitious wishes seem contrived.

Skip ahead a couple of decades and I have yet to discover a comfortable and natural way to spread news of my birth date. I would think that in the workplace, there must be someone in the HR department in possession of such knowledge. Wouldn't it be less clumsy for the HR Dept. to communicate said information to the appropriate people...say the Sunshine Committee, for example?

So I deleted the email and figure that if people are meant to know, they know. And if they don't, then they don't.

What's Jewish About Valentine's Day?

2006-01-30T17:30:00.000-08:00

Considering that "St." is part of the name of the holiday? Maybe nothing.

Or maybe something...

I've always liked Valentine's Day. I feel a certain affinity with this holiday due to its proximatey to my own birthday. [Actually, there is another holiday closer to my birthday but it involves a furry animal and math...so for obvious reasons, it's not high on my list.] I still remember the first Valentine's Day gift I received from a boy. A pink elephant and a box of chocolate. I was about eleven and thought that it was the sweetest thing...

The most perfect Valentine's Day gift? TiVo (Valentine's Day 2004) was just about the sweetest gesture ever! I know how it sounds, but seriously...I love television and I'm a mother of two. With TiVo, I always have my kids' favourite shows on hand and can zip through my favourites any time of the night without having to remember to set the VCR.

But I digress...

I've never had a theological problem per se with Valentine's Day. It was never a big deal in my family of origin and we've never really made a big deal about it our relationship. It's been downplayed in our house simply because Beernut and Poppyseed have been at JCC preschools where it is not acknowledged.

This year, of course, will be Beernut's first exposure to Cupid and it's got me a-thinkin!

Is Valentine's Day an approprite celebration for Jews?

I feel certain that for most of my readership there is no question that Valentine's Day does not conflict with the tenets of our faith. In fact, I reckon that most of you can't even figure out why I'm even asking the question.

Christmas. That's the reason.

Stay with me here...

Valentine's Day is in no way a religious holiday. Yes, there is a saint distantly associated with the day, but we all know that it is a completely secular holiday. And it is one that celebrates love. Hey, Judaism is in favour of love. So not only should there be no conflict, maybe we should embrace it.

And lo and behold -- that's what the Orthodox have done! Ascribing to the "if you can't beat them, join them" philosophy, the Orthodox Union’s [national youth movement] National Conference of Synagogue Youth (NCSY) is “initiating a campaign timed to coincide with Valentine’s Day about the importance of dating and marrying Jewish.” Since kids are being inundated with hearts, valentines, plush animals, and (kosher!) chocolate anyway, NCSY will take this as an opportunity to reinforce the traditional views of dating and marriage.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, for generations, our Sages have taken behviours and practices of our people and given them a Jewish spin. Take the dreidel. Not exactly Jewish in origin, but definitely Jewish now.

But it's very easy for me to strip Valentine's Day of any religiosity it might have had in earlier times. And that's when I begin to worry. Because this is the same line of reasoning I hear today regarding Christmas.

"It's not a religious holiday, Rabbi, it's an American holiday." "We don't go to church or anything. It's just a family celebration." And so on. As Steven Bayme, director of Jewish Communal Affairs at the American Jewish Committee, said, "When people contend Christmas is a secular holiday, they're missing the historical framework here. Christmas is a holiday of another faith, rooted in historical events in which Jews reject their theological significance." Not just historical events, but religious ones as well. And we don't have the right to secularize someone else's holiday just because we are experiencing an acute case of tinsel-envy.

Are we not venturing too far on this slippery slope by observing a seemingly secular holiday simply because it's what our neighbours are doing and it doesn't seem to detract in any way from the authentic practice of Judaism?

Probably not. But I think we need to have the discussion. We need to consider our actions and decide where we draw our own lines. Because if we don't, we might find ourselves slipping down that slope...

We are the Jews, the mighty, mighty, Jews...

2006-01-26T17:17:00.000-08:00

The way some people fear us, you'd think that we are super-duper powerful. It's a heady feeling, really. If you believe some of the propaganda out there, we are responsible for the war in Iraq, 9/11, the tsunami, and the Civil War. (And probably a slew of other calamities as well.) We control Hollywood, the media, and the economy. For a group that comprises just 0.2% of the global population, we certainly seem to be disproportionately mighty.

It gets tiring. No, not being so powerful. For we really aren't responsible for such things. It gets tiring being blamed. It gets tiring being hated by so many. To be the world's punching bag.

Two weeks ago, author Andrew Klavan wrote a wonderful op-ed piece on this very topic. I thought that he raised some really valid points and even kept a sense of humour about a subject that is extraordinarily serious.

At the end of the day, it seems as though we are destined to be blamed for anything from a meteorological disturbance to the economic fluxuations of the Free World. Despite the best intentions of the Amalekites, Babylonians, Romans, and Nazis, we're still here.

They're not.

I luv Jewish Boys!

2006-01-25T12:13:00.000-08:00

I always have. When the other girls had a thing for Tom Cruise, Kirk Cameron, and Scott Baio, my head was filled with visions of Jonathan Silverman, Matthew Broderick, and Robby Benson.

I luv Jewish boys. I think that they are adorable, funny, really cute, sexy, smart, and just plain good solid folk. It's just what I'm used to, I suppose.

My dad is a nice Jewish boy. PC is definitely a nice Jewish boy. I have not one but two nice Jewish boys as brothers. And Beernut is a nice Jewish boy.

See, all nice Jewish boys.

I've just got a thing for them...

So, my latest little crush is on Andy Samberg. He's a featured player on SNL and one of the reasons that I adore him is because I'm friends with his sister. She is a very, very nice Jewish girl and since things like this tend to run in the family...well, I feel pretty confidant about this guy. Plus he's super cute!! Even though I haven't been a regular SNL viewer for years, my TiVo now records weekly in hopes of catching a Samberg sketch here and there.

How excited was I to see that his latest sketch "Chronic of Narnia" is available online? I've watched it several times and each time I think the same thing: this is a really cute Jewish boy who has been trying to break in to the business and is finally being recognized. Hooray for the nice guys!!

Then today, during my www travels, I came upon a West Coast version starring one of other favourite Jewish boys, Mark Feuerstein. He is super cute too and very, very funny in "lazy monday." This short is what he and his "posse" are calling "the West Coast response to SNL's 'Chronic of Narnia' rap." (via Annabel Lee)

Any actual point to this entry? Not really. Pure entertainment once-in-a-while isn't so bad :)

Beware things that bite in the night...

2006-01-25T10:07:00.000-08:00

According to a recent article in the LA Times, Dengue Fever is the most common cause of fever in returning travellers.

Beware the mosquito carrying Dengue Fever!!

I must admit that when I hear of such warnings...well...I ignore them. After all, do you actually know anyone who come down with one of these strange afflictions while on vacation?

I do. Yes, I actually do know someone who contracted Dengue Fever and on her honeymoon no less!! (She is recovering, thank God.)

Dengue Fever is contracted from an infected mosquito and symptoms generally appear four to seven days after the bite. Symptoms can include severe headache, joint and muscle pain, high fever, nausea, vomiting and rash. It is a serious disease and, in its most severe form, can be fatal.

Unfortunately there is no vaccine at this time to prevent Dengue Fever and since it is a virus, there is no treatment. International health agencies encourage people travelling to the affected areas to take precautions against being bitten, such as wearing long sleeves and applying repellents with DEET (diethylmetatoluamide).

In other words, the best defense is a good offense.