Monday, September 10, 2012

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Despite all sorts of international pressure to boycott Israel, the Red Hot Chili Peppers came to our little country, visited the Western Wall before their concert, and then performed last night in Tel Aviv.

I did not go to the concert, because it would have meant figuring out a place for Raphaela for the approximately 12 hours she would have needed care;  it would have meant arranging for someone to pick her up from Gan and take her home until this morning, in order to arrive in time for the concert  by 6:30 pm. While we have many good friends, at this point Raphaela will not stay with them alone for more than several hours.

The pre-Mommy adult went to movies and concerts, and listened to the RHCP; that person I was before I had a child had the freedom to take the weekend and travel, or just sit on the beach and read a good book;  the woman I was before I had Raphaela could get involved in either frivolous relationships, or try out a more serious connection and experiment without worrying too much about the consequences.  The Me that I was before Raphaela could sleep past five in the morning, and could get in a nap on Shabbat without having an interruption every five minutes, "Are you sleeping Mommy?"

I know that today is September 11, and I should be saying something deep about the import of the day.  I know that Rosh HaShanah fast approaches, and I will state for the record that I am eternally grateful that both I and my daughter are healthy, and that I have the privilege of watching her grow into an amazing human being every day.

So, G-d, Universe and Everything, thank you, and please keep us safe and well this next year and beyond.

But I am also a woman who has no instant family as baby sitters, no secret account or trust fund that allows me to work part-time or take even the brief Sabbatical I need after almost 17 years of working in the field of Chiropractic.  I run  and react and serve others from the moment I wake up until the moment I collapse in bed at night, worrying if I have done enough to take care of us as a family,  and to make a difference on the planet.  I am also the woman who has not been intimate with a man for way too long, has not taken a vacation for close to five years; I miss the days when I would choose a random European country and wander around, meeting the citizens, observing natural wonders and learning a new language.  I am the adult who has had way too many conversations with a three year old about bodily functions and Dora the Explorer and Bob the Builder.

Our planned trip to the States in November for Thanksgiving, it is my gift to Raphaela so she can get to know her cousins and extended family.  I am paying for the entire trip myself, and I am under no illusions that this family affair will qualify as my vacation.

I wanted to go to that concert last night, I really really did, for me this day and the person who used to inhabit this body.  I am burning out, and this morning I am feeling tired and resentful, instead of appreciating the blessings I have in my life.

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