Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Rosh HaShanah

This year we attended synagogue both days, for the sounding of the shofar and because so many of Raphaela's friends from school seem to attend this particular place of worship. (Instant play date, yay!)  Additionally, it is located oh so conveniently three doors away from our building.

Before the blowing of the shofar, they lay out several tables of all the most classic/salty/unhealthy Israeli junk food that exists in the market.  Plus cakes and lollipops and Coca Cola, in case you didn't have enough variations of bisli, bamba and wafers.

On the first day, Raphaela filled her cup, and went back for second and fourths and sixth helpings.  I was almost embarrassed at a certain point, I could feel the disapproving stares of the other mothers who I am sure thought that I never feed my daughter. Anything.

At one point one woman came over to me and said, "I am guessing that you don't stock up on these things at home." Relieved that I was receiving the benefit of the doubt, I replied, "We have some basic treats, like chocolate and cookies, but nothing this unhealthy crosses the threshold into our house."

"Don't worry," this woman continued. "She seems like a self-assured and happy child, and when it comes to the Jewish holidays, give up any control you think you have over the engorging of junk food."

She continued, "As my saintly father of blessed memory used to say, 'Better a visit to the dentist than a stint on the psychologist's couch.'""

And to add to the party, the youth group also awarded the kids lollipops and marshmallows.  I prayed (in the spirit of the season) that Raphaela would come to her own conclusions, with a little help from a stomach ache.

Needless to say, on the second day in synagogue Raphaela showed a little more restraint, without any encouragement from me.  She even chose to eat dates over toffee.

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