The Empty Plate Club

The Jerusalem Marathon will take place next month, and thanks to the gift of beautiful weather, I have been able to train outside in the park for the last week.  Tonight I was talking to Raphaela and expressing the hope that some day maybe we could run together in the Marathon, and Raphaela said, "I will try to run very fast and win!"

I explained to Raphaela that I know that I am not going to come in first place, ("Because usually an African wins," said Raphaela AKA Little Miss Obvious)  and that I am running for enjoyment of it, and to know that I finished something I started.  "Because when you start something, you must commit to it, and finish it, see it through."  I explained.

Then Raphaela and I discussed the one exception to that important life rule, that if you eat and you feel full, you do not have to finish the rest of the contents on the plate.  While I am not actively encouraging wasting food, I have taught Raphaela to listen to her body, and stop eating when her body says "Enough."

"Because if you just eat food when you don't need it, you will get fat, and that's not healthy."  Added Raphaela, who has a Health Class in school.

"And then," continued my daughter, "if you go to a restaurant and you can't finish your order, you ask them to wrap it up for you and take it home, so you can eat it another day."

36 Grown-Up Hours

For the first time since Raphaela was born, she stayed with my parents (who were visiting from the US) over Shabbat, and I stayed home, alone, with no one to care for other than myself and marginally, our cat Harry.

Friday

On the way to school, half way down the block, a man called to me.  I turned around and did not recognize him, he had just dropped his little boy off at a nursery near our house.  He said to us, "I see you and your daughter walking to school every morning. I am headed in that direction, to that school, do you want a ride?"

"No thank you," I said. Because I know that Raphaela is very possessive of our time together in the morning, and because it is a beautiful sunny day, atypical for Jerusalem in February.

After we came home from school in the afternoon, I asked for Raphaela's help in packing the overnight bag, and showed her all her clothing and her toothbrush and hair accessories. "And WHY," she asked with suspicion, "will you not be able to take care of these things yourself?"

I had put off telling her that I would not be joining the rest of the family on this sleepover party, and could not avoid it any longer. I explained that she would have special bonding time with her cousin and her grandparents, and that I would pick her up after Shabbat.

Holding back tears, Raphaela and I chose a special doll that she would take with her, to remind her that I am always with her and always love her, no matter where I am.  That seemed to do the trick.

Friday Afternoon

After dropping Raphaela off at my parents and driving home, I could actually feel my stomach drop a little. It felt odd, it felt wrong for the house to be so quiet, for me to have not much of anything to do for anyone.  For the first time in six years I had free time without responsibility, and I had no idea what to do with myself.

Apparently, motherhood has altered my identity and my essential state of being, and there's no going back.

Friday Night

Dinner with friends, with good food and a very good bottle of red wine to share.  I would estimate that half of the conversation that I contributed to the evening somehow involved my daughter, not counting the people who said, "Too bad Raphaela is not here, I haven't seen her in a while."

I call that the "Mother of" Phenomenon:  since I gave birth, my name (and that of all mothers to children in Israel) became "Raphaela's Mother," even amongst the parents of her classmates. In Israel, where family values take precedence above all, you are defined by your relatives and most especially your children.

Shabbat Morning

I can do it!  And more miraculously, Harry can do it!  My cat (whom I have had longer than Raphaela) who usually wakes me up at the crack of dawn, let me sleep in until 8:30 am.   I have not slept past six am in years, and I did not think my body remembered how.  Of course, it meant that I missed the party at my friend's house for International Ice Cream for Breakfast Day.

Shabbat Day

I finally got into the groove, stopped feeling guilty, and of all the activities I did today, perhaps the most inspiring was the five kilometer plus hike around Jerusalem. I didn't have to pack a picnic lunch (Raphaela needs snacks when we go on trips), just myself and my sneakers and my bottle of water.  I walked through the park, felt the sun on my face, smiled at random people and generally remembered why it feels so good to get some exercise into my life.

I had been waiting for that push to return to an intensive training program for the Jerusalem Marathon in March, and now I have it.  That adrenaline also reminded me that I must take care of myself and my body, if I want to stick around for a long and healthy life, and watch Raphaela grow into her full potential.

Saturday Night

I needed time away from Raphaela in order to miss her, in order to understand how we fit into each other, even when we are apart.  The closer it got to the end of Shabbat, the more I started going back into Mom mode, thinking about how she has school tomorrow, and hoping that the weekend passed without incident.

I feel truly grateful that my parents were able to take Raphaela for her first ever sleep over, she enjoyed the time with her family, and I was able to have this time to myself.

As soon as she saw me she started crying and fell into my arms, saying that she missed me; my father said that she had been 100% until I walked in the door. It's nice to be missed.

Marvelous Monday

The morning started with a bang.  While I was in the shower, our cat Harry caught a baby bird in mid-air, brought it back to the windowsill and ate it.  Raphaela watched the whole thing with a combination of horror and enthusiasm, and was most impressed that he did not "waste his food";  though I heard her chastising Harry afterwards, saying to him, "Now don't eat any more birds, OK?"  Harry has been staking out that birds nest since February, waiting for his chance; I give him credit for his patience and his alacrity, not bad for a 13 year old feline.


Once I dropped Raphaela off at school, for time since before the extra-long Pessach vacation, I did a real run in Gan Sacher, with real sweating and fat burning aerobic activity.  With no specific motivation for staying in shape IE no family event or marathon, I must remember the feeling of elation and commit again to continuing the workouts.


Meanwhile, in Gan, Raphaela had a show-and-tell gig.  Until now, children in her class had brought in their sea shell collection, or a favorite doll, or a soccer ball.  Raphaela decided she wanted to talk about her ballet class.  Which led into (naturally) including selections of paintings of Degas's ballet dancers, her favorite artist.  Which meant that she also felt the need to create her own pastel drawing and add that into the presentation.  Sounds more like a small art history thesis to me, I am proud of Raphaela for making these connections and creating an ambitious presentation.


Raphaela's Nature class finished off the day.  I cannot remember my childhood feeling this busy.

At the Sports Expo this afternoon, picking up the t-shirt and bib and instructions for the Jerusalem Marathon on Friday.  Every vendor is giving out stuff, and Raphaela walked away with quite a haul, including a balloon, sticker, bracelet and sweatband.

On the way to the car, Raphaela, skipping and smiling, said to me, "Mommy, I am happy all over my body because I got so many presents."

"Wow," I said, "why do you think you got all those gifts?  It's like a birthday party!"
"Because," Raphaela answered, "everyone loves me!"
I kissed Raphaela on the head and said, "Everyone loves you, but especially your Mommy."
"Oh yes," she replied, "my Mommy loves me best of all."

Sticker Chart

Before my brother's wedding in the Summer, I was VERY motivated to exercise and run, because I had to look good in family photos that would be preserved for posterity.  But when we returned to Israel in the middle of the war, it hit me hard, resulting in an extended break in my workout regimen.  Not because I didn't know that the running was important for my health, but because I could not break out of the emotional jet lag of our trip to the United States, and the trauma of the war.

Now, with less than three weeks before Purim and exactly four weeks before the Jerusalem Marathon, I have kicked it back into full gear.  Not only do I need to look smokin' in my costume, but I need to be able to run 10K without embarrassing myself and/or collapsing on the street.

To motivate myself, I created a sticker chart, in which I record daily the amount I have run, and whether I have also lifted weights and completed a full set of stomach crunches.  Truth be told, after I run I feel quite invigorated, and get a little angry at myself for having avoided this activity for too many months.  As well, when I fill in my chart and give myself a sticker, I smile and it encourages me to continue the trend.  When I can walk up the treacherous hills of Jerusalem, the positive effect is confirmed.

For the past few days, the weather in Jerusalem has been a combination of icy cold winds, sand storms and mud rain.  I have exercised as best I can, but today I barely managed anything because it is also Erev Shabbat, and "miles to go before I sleep." 

When Raphaela came home from Gan today, she asked me (unsolicited) if I had earned my sticker today, and I realized that thanks to the chart, I have a wonderful built in coach in my house;  now my daughter will not let me slack off, and I am grateful for it.

Every Day Heroes

As we move onto the next Jewish holiday, Chanukah, Raphaela's teacher asked the parents to prepare a project about family history, and about heroism.  The teacher explained that heroes come in small and large packages, and that each story would be read to open their mind to the idea that you don't have to lead an army against the Greeks to be considered brave.

A bit at a loss, because I don't see anything in particular that I have done in my life as especially heroic,  and I can't fall back on the Israeli soldier stories.  So I asked Raphaela if she thought that I was brave.  She responded with a resounding "Yes!"  When I asked Raphaela to elaborate on what actions in particular she admired, she answered, "Well, you dance and sing, you ran in the Marathon, and you eat and you read me stories."

Then it hit me, that the one thing I have done in my 46 years for which I can say I am proud and I feel quite brave...is in fact, Raphaela!  I made a choice to bring an amazing little girl into the world, to be pregnant and give birth and raise her every day, for the rest of my days.

Of course, I cannot write about being a single mother and about my fertility treatments to a group of five year olds; I have pledged to never allow Raphaela to feel from me that she and our family are too unusual,  and I will certainly not allow it to become a topic of general discussion among her friends.

Jerusalem Marathon 2014

I made the run in two minutes under my projected time, my knees behaved very well all the way  through, and I am loaded up now with adrenaline.  My sports bra performed fantastically, and the weather was ideal. I finished squarely in the middle of the group, though there were some young children and grandparents who outran me.

Technically I ran the 5K, but with all the walking back and forth from my house to the start line and then back home again, and then to pick up Raphaela from her play date, it may as well have been 10K.  Next year I will either run the 10K myself, or I have been thinking about training for the next year with Raphaela for the 5K, so we can run together.

Happy Friday from the Jerusalem Marathon and Shabbat Shalom!

Mommy Gets a Time Out

My mother taught elementary school for close to 25 years, and  a damn good one at that.  Since I share many of my mother's facial features, I am often accosted by a stranger - usually about my age- on the streets of Jerusalem, with the enthusiastic exclamation, "You must be the daughter of my amazing third grade teacher. She's the reason I went on to get my PhD in...."

Growing up, we constantly heard in our house, "Whatever profession you choose, don't become a teacher!  You spend all day giving your kindness and patience to someone else's children, and then you have nothing left for your own."  Ultimately my mother left teaching and joined the business world, where she deals with frustrating grown-ups instead.

Since moving to Israel and becoming a parent, I have learned (the hard way) the virtue of balance in life IE work pays the bills but it represents a means to an end, toward more quality time for yourself and with your family.  But this past week has been totally disrupted by the holiday of Purim:  Raphaela had vacation from school from Friday and through Monday, and yesterday I overbooked my schedule.  I don't think I had even one minute that was not set aside for someone; a Chiropractic Board Meeting, patients at the clinic, a most necessary trip to the supermarket, phone calls and texts, picking up the runner's package for the Jerusalem Marathon on Friday, getting in a quick run before the Marathon on Friday, etc.

BTW, our day starts at five am, when either Harry sits on me and asks for breakfast, or Raphaela wakes up in tune to the rising of the sun.

By the time I had to pick up Raphaela from school in the afternoon, I felt physically exhausted and emotionally burnt out.  The candy loot from Purim taunted me, and it took all my will power not to inhale the junk food on the kitchen counter.  I had given and given and given, run and run and run all day.

Then Raphaela started with typical behavior for her age, pushing limits and asking questions in the cute sweet voice of hers, and trying to grab my undivided attention.  As well, as a single mother and the only adult in the house, no one else is going to volunteer to feed her dinner to set up her shower or tuck her into bed.

I blew up, not because Raphaela's requests were unreasonable, but because my tank was empty, beyond empty, and I could not even stand the idea of my daughter standing near my personal space.

I explained to Raphaela that Mommy was very tired, and that little things that are normally no big deal might make me say or do things that might be unusual or scary.  I told her that I was going to lock myself in my bedroom for an hour or so, gave her some of her favorite books to read, and set her up with an A-B-C video in front of the computer.

I gave myself a Time Out, and then once Raphaela fell asleep, the accumulated stress of the day kept me awake, so I cruised the Internet for hard core comedy, anything to make me laugh and smile again.

The Universe tests our resolve, do we really "mean it" when we say that our family comes first?  Well I learned yesterday that when my Inner Voice starts shrieking, it is time to take some items off the agenda and forgive myself for my perfect imperfections.

Purim Costume Parade 2014

The Gan Purim Party, Friday

Purim Day One, Sunday

 

 

 

Shushan Purim, Day Two

 

 

 

The beautiful bride received a large dowry of candies and treats.

Back to Gan and routine tomorrow, just in time for the Marathon on Friday.

Today is the 13th anniversary of the day in which I was almost shot dead by a Palestinian sniper on my way home from work, during the Second Intifada.

Very much alive, I am happy to report that I almost forgot this event, since I am too busy obsessing about my right knee, which I injured yesterday, and determined that with recovery time I can still run the 10K in the Jerusalem Marathon in March.

Hobbling and limping through the metal detector at the supermarket today, the buzzer went off.  After finding no reasonable explanation, the guard smiled at me and said, "A beautiful woman can also set it off."

Boy, did I need that to get me through the day.

Jerusalem Marathon I

After my Great Uncle died, his 86 year old sister Ida wrote to me and told me that I should not take a single day or a single person for granted.  And it got me thinking.

Raphaela is now four and a half, and it is time I took my body back.  It has been five years since I was running regularly, and two years since I last ran the Jerusalem Marathon.  I am quite tired of looking at that little bit of belly fat left over from my pregnancy, when I know as a Chiropractor I could actually do something about it, make it go away with consistent effort and hard work.

So I went online and signed up for the 10K Jerusalem Marathon.  I sat down and wrote up a calendar, showing me how many days I had to train properly.  I pulled my second-hand Treadmill out of storage and stuck it in the only available space in my house, taking up all the floor space in my bedroom.

When Raphaela saw the Treadmill, she assumed it was a fancy clothing hanger, because it had served that purpose for far too long.  Now, my daughter will be proud of me when she sees me run, victorious, healthy and happy.

I have devised both short term and long term goals for my training:
1.  Deadline, Purim (16/3/14):  I want to be able to show off my legs with pride in my Tardis Purim costume.
2.  Deadline, Marathon (21/3/14):  I don't care if I finish in professional time, but I am going to run that Marathon without pain or ungainly effort, cross the finish line and get my medal.
3.  Deadline, Bro's Wedding (13/7/14):  Must look smoking in the family pictures, as they will be on display for time immemorial.
4.  Deadline, 46th Birthday (24/7/14):  Beach day, one word:  Bikini

Truth be told, I am my own worst critic.  When I look in the mirror, I think that I look slightly pregnant, when I don't.  When I run 4 km after a break of two years, I criticize myself because I could have done more, once upon a time.

So my fifth and most important goal is to realize that the outside world makes women feel like S**t for no apparent reason, and I do not have to be a size zero to love myself, and be considered a sexy and date-able Mom.

I am not taking myself for granted anymore.

Worlds Collide

What a thrill to see one of my teachers, Dr Tamar Ross, receive the honor of lighting one of the 12 torches in the 2013 Yom HaAtzmaut ceremony on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem.  They described her as one of the most influential Jewish religious feminists of our generation.  She also happens to be the mother of one of the first Jewish Orthodox SMBC in the State of Israel; a mother of three, Dr Ross' daughter opened the door for so many other women to fulfill the dream of becoming a parent, without the traditional family structure.

As Raphaela and I watched the fireworks over Jerusalem, two explosions rocked the Boston Marathon finish line, killing three and wounding countless others. One other explosion, and two other undetonated incendiary devices were found within the city of Boston, as well as a suspicious fire at the John F. Kennedy Memorial Library.  My parents live near Heartbreak Hill, the most difficult aspect of the race toward the end of the route; my mother called the terrorist attack "the end of the Age of Innocence."

Welcome to our daily experience here in 65 year old Israel.

My Little Actress

After a vacation day, and especially after the fun of Purim, Raphaela had other ideas than mine regarding her attendance at Gan.  She woke up at 6 am, looked at me, flopped on her stomach and said, "Mommy, I want to go back to sleep."  When that plan didn't work, we had the following conversation:

Raphaela:  I must stay home today, I am so sick.
Mommy:  Let me take your temperature... (digital thermometer)  36.5, you are perfectly healthy.
Raphaela:  I think you should take my temperature again, just to be sure.
Mommy:  (digital thermometer) 36.5, you are not sick, hooray!  We are going to Gan.
Raphaela:  But I need the strawberry medicine! [Acamoli, children's aspirin]
Mommy:  You only get Acamoli when you have fever, and you don't have fever, and you are not sick.
Raphaela:  (Pauses, you can see the wheels turning inside her head) COUGH COUGH!  That's a terrible cough!  You don't like it when I cough, I need to stay home.

Needless to say, Raphaela realized that her expert acting skills would not convince me, and she agreed to get dressed and go to Gan.  No matter, she has another vacation day this Friday for the Jerusalem Marathon, an event which will close half the streets in the city and most of my area.  One which I will observe this year, and hopefully participate next year.

Marathon Blues

This week I attended an all-class reunion for my high school in Boston,  15% of their alumni have moved to Israel since the institution opened its doors 75 years ago, and the turnout of close to 200 people of several generations was quite impressive and unexpected, even for those who planned the event.

Having not particularly enjoyed high school, because I felt that they continually stifled my individuality in favor of the "Box A" or "Box B" approach, I was hesitant at first, and enjoyed myself more than I had anticipated.  I quite concur with my friend Sarah, perhaps the most moving moment was one in which the entire room of native Bostonians stood up and sang Hatikva together, in Jerusalem at the Menachem Begin Heritage Center.

One of my classmates who attended has created quite a successful life portfolio for himself, considering he spent most of high school getting suspended.  A married man with three children, an independent business person who has recently moved his office to Modiin Illit, so that he may employ Ultra-Orthodox women.  A speaker of three languages - Hebrew, English and Russian- he frequently appears on Russian television as a political analyst, and he in fact served as the MC for the evening.

Besides all that, he has recently become the Chairman and organizer of the Alyn annual Charity Bike Ride, which this year took place in the wake of the bombing of the North of Israel. 

OK, so he has the house/wife/kids thing going on, and he manages to stay in shape so he can bike ride across the country.

I am jealous of his ability to work out on a regular basis despite the many demands of his daily routine.

Last year, I trained sufficiently and ran the 10K in the Jerusalem Marathon. Persevering in the hail and the shrieking wind, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and was on a high for weeks afterwards, having accomplished this particular personal goal.

This year I tried training, but my knees complained bitterly, awaking an old injury from the age of 18.  My Chiropractor and I tried to create a program that would ease my knees and the rest of my body into a comfort zone, but as a single mother I didn't have the time to enact our plan in an ideal manner.

The mature me and the doctor in me has accepted that this year it is not meant to be, and I have renewed my commitment to run next year once again.

Yesterday a patient told me that he had run from Herzelia to Tel Aviv and back, a total of approximately 20 kilometers, and that it was "easy and fun," that he "almost didn't notice the distance." I genuinely congratulated him, and inside felt a little piece of my own heart sink.  Every time I see a sign for the Marathon, whose finish line is located right near my house in Gan Saccher, my hearts sinks just a little bit more.  It is starting to eat away at my confidence, as I reconsider what I have achieved in my life toward true excellence.

Maybe I should take the day off and go to the beach in Tel Aviv...

The Jerusalem Ethos

From an article about the Jerusalem Marathon in Haaretz by Yair Ettinger:   "[It's h]ard to get used to the inspiring and moving sight of men and women fighting the forces of nature, still trying to reach the finishing line six hours after the Marathon started...Jerusalemites cheer you on with cries of 'Bravo!' and 'Well done!'  While in Tel Aviv they cheer you on by saying, 'Go on, faster!'"

Jerusalem Marathon 2012

Raphaela's Gan is located so close to Gan Saccher and the start of the Jerusalem Marathon, that they requested this year that parents who did not need to take their children out of the house should stay home, as access to the Gan would be exceptionally limited for both staff and the Gan families.  I had planned on running, and originally thought about Gan as an alternative to baby sitting, but in the end, left Raphaela in a prolonged play date with a friend.  So before I even walked to check-in at Gan Saccher, I put my daughter in a stroller and took her over to her friend's house.

I almost canceled my participation this year, because this morning, and in fact throughout the day, we had the worst weather in Jerusalem:  driving winds, heavy rains and at certain points (including during my run), hail stones.  I believe that G-d's Ministry of Weather has a bit of a sadistic side...

The pre-race atmosphere at Gan Saccher was inspiring, and because this international event was being held in the capitol of the Jewish country, one of the event tents included a synagogue.  There were musicians and street performers, warm-up seminars and a free coffee bar;  apparently (news to me!) a shot of caffeine helps your run.  Since I had chosen to run a mini-marathon (10K total), I was present when the first winners crossed the Finish Line.

I also met a fascinating group of people, including a woman from Norway who had come specifically to see Jerusalem and run the Marathon;  an elderly American man who had made aliyah 30 years ago, and was the last of his group of friends who continued to run and compete;  a woman and her two children from Ashkelon, who had fled the bombings and escaped to Jerusalem to feel more safe;  and a Russian security guard, himself a single parent and eager to share stories.

After getting my bum left knee taped, we walked to the Start Line, at the entrance of the Israel Museum and opposite the Knesset.  The area was jammed with competitors, but the DJ played amazing dance music, so you could not help but move your body while waiting.  As we counted down, and the hail resumed, I thought to myself, "why am I doing this?!"  But as soon as I got on the course, I felt a huge sense of pride in myself, and kept my mind busy by looking at the scenery and singing some of Raphaela's children songs in my head.

By the time I reached to the finish line, it seemed too short, the fun had ended too soon.  I walked home at least another 2 km to pick up Raphaela from her friend's house, and on the way home I bought myself a slice of pizza -desperately needed sugar - and a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Un-learning Old Tricks

I have been suffering since Friday with a splitting headache and nausea, and quite frankly, I am not equipped to deal.  As the daughter of a Chiropractor, and as a Chiropractor myself, I have had two headaches my entire life, (no joke!) and have never stocked any over-the-counter medications in the house.

I spent much of the weekend taking care of Raphaela despite the shooting pain, but it made me tired, and today when I picked up Raphaela from Gan, several of the parents asked me, "Are you alright?"  Apparently, I am not looking my best at the moment  My doctor has suggested that my recent forray into training for the Jerusalem Marathon might have brought on these symptoms.

One of the parents became cross, and asked me why I hadn't reached out for help from other parents in the Gan, even to take Raphaela out of the house for a few hours, to play with other children who are not Mommy, the perpetual playmate.  Of course she is right, there is a world of resources that I have mostly forgotten, because I am so used to doing everything myself.  I must remember that requesting assistance is one of the most important life skills, that it will keep me sane and healthy for many years.