Second Class Single Mothers

Last month, the Israeli paper Maariv highlighted an essential flaw in the Bituach Leumi [Israeli Social Security] system:  their charter was written in the 1950's, long before the phenomenon of single mothers by choice because an accepted reality.  Practically speaking, it means that single mothers by choice and their children receive less benefits than women who are divorced or widowed, though we all pay the same amount into the fund on a monthly basis.

I have now personally experienced this flaw.  At the beginning of the year, Raphaela's Gan posted a list of all those families eligible for a discount in tuition;  divorced, widowed, student etc. If you could bring a letter from  your doctor proving that you suffered from chronic hiccups you got a discount.  No where on that list mentioned single mothers by choice, and so on the advice of the manager of the Gan, I put in a special request, stating that I have no family in the country and that I am solely responsible for financing our little family unit. I further stated that I saw no difference between myself and a divorced woman raising her children alone; in fact, even a divorcee gets some child support from her ex-husband.

Eight months later... the Board of the Gan informed me that they had refused my request, stating no particular reason other than, "Denied."  While I felt disappointment, the manager of the Gan was enraged and is determined to appeal their decision.  She asked me to sit with her this morning, so she could write a letter to the Chair of the Board, "a letter that will make then sob their heart out and give me some reduction in tuition."

I appreciate her support, though I hold no high hopes for the bureaucracy to change its mind.  The law on the books in Israel must catch up with the reality of the 21rst century family.

Thoughts for a Wednesday

Last night I had a most disturbing dream:  Raphaela and I were crossing an intersection in Teaneck, New Jersey, when she let go of my hand and started running ahead of me, in a way that clearly endangered her life.  She made it to the other side, but a white car hit another little boy and broke his leg, trying to avoid hitting my daughter.  As I stood and watched, I felt tremendous guilt, because somehow my child had led to this other boy's injury.

This morning, channeling my anxiety, I reviewed with Raphaela the entire pedestrian procedure IE how to cross the street, that she must hold Mommy's hand and that we only walk on the white lines.  I leave the interpretation to Freud.

====================================================================

From the New York Times this morning, an article entitled, "Unmarried, over 30 and proud of it," by Didi Kirsten Tatlow:  "...single Chinese women in their mid to late 20's have endured being called 'shengu,' or 'leftover women,' by relatives, by the state-run media and by society."  Apparently, the variation of the meaning of the word in Chinese is "victorious" or "successful."

There are 20 million more men under 30 than women in China, because of the ability to choose the gender of a fetus, and in most cases, to abort if parents are 'disappointed' that they have conceived a girl.

Sounds like a eugenics policy out of a science fiction movie.  And if 25 is past its shelf life in China, then I am ancient.

====================================================================

A woman called me at work today, explaining that her 13 year old daughter suffered from scoliosis, and asked if Chiropractic could help.  I answered that at this age and until the end of puberty, a lot of good could be accomplished, with a combination of Chiropractic adjustments, stretches and exercises at home, and monitoring.

Then the woman hesitated, before she added the information that her daughter was not like "other kids," but rather Special Needs, and did that affect her prognosis.  I assured the mother that I have worked successfully with both children and adults with special needs, and that in the long term it would not make a difference in my treatment.

The woman then hesitated again, and asked,

Mother:  Are you a religious woman?
Doc:  Why would you ask that?  What does that have to do with my professional credentials?
Mother:  My special needs daughter feels more comfortable around people who are religious.
Doc:  My personal observances are none of your business.  Whether or not I am religious, and whether or not that is relevant, I can tell you that I wear pants at work, if that offends you.  You can tell your daughter anything you want, if you think it will make the treatment more effective, but I am not going to dignify the question.

The woman than said she would get back to me, which means I will probably not hear from her ever again.

I have in fact helped children with Downs Syndrome and other special needs, and one thing I have consistently observed is that fact that these amazing human beings, no matter what their chronological age, behave in a way that is more open and more loving that most adults or kids.  In fact, they generally do not employ the selfish and misguided filters that roam through most of so-called civilized society.

If this 13 year old girl harbours a prejudice against the secular within Israel, it is only because her parents and environment have wrongfully instilled it, and to that I say, "Shame on you!  Shame on you!"

Dancing around the Question

It has been raining for the last two days in Jerusalem and around the country, and this morning on the way to Gan, Raphaela and I observed a slug (without its shell) squirming and squishing along the sidewalk at a rather quick pace, for a slug.

Raphaela asked me where the slug was going, and I replied that he was looking for a new shell, and that then he would go home to his Mommy.  She immediately added, "and his Daddy," after which I assured her that both the Mommy Slug and the Daddy Slug would be found at home, wherever that may be.

My daughter has completely entrenched herself in the "Why" phase of learning, and though she seems to have a deeper understanding of our family situation, I keep waiting for The Question IE "Who and where is my Daddy?"  I have rehearsed the response one million times in my head but thus far, Raphaela does not seem particularly concerned about the question, or the answer.

RIP Blub Blub

First,  Al the Cleaner Fish left this earthly plane, no more than one week after we brought the fish tank home.  I told Raphaela that Al went to the doctor because he was sick;  several weeks later we saw a tank of similar fish at the zoo, and I told Raphaela that Al had gotten better and was now living at the zoo with his friends and family.

Yesterday I noticed one of the other fish swimming upside down and discretely removed it from the tank before Raphaela noticed. I am hoping to get to the pet store some time today to replace that gold fish before she counts and sees that only three remain.

Recently Raphaela has been begging me to add an iguana to our menagerie.  ("Why?"  "Why not?")  I told her that with the cat and the fish and the birds who have built a nest in our window, we have quite enough animals for the moment.

First Dental Check Up

Yesterday Raphaela had her first ever dental check up, because I thought she was ready and old enough to sit still for a few minutes.  Her apprehension expressed itself as we sat and waited for our turn, she took to jumping on the furniture and screaming with delight rather than her normal tone of laughter. 

The Pediatric Dentist, Dr. Amar had the golden touch; he smiled and spoke to her on her level, his examination was quick and painless.  Dr. Amar declared Raphaela in "great shape," and scheduled a follow up appointment in one week for Raphaela to get tooth-brushing lessons and a cleaning.  Best of all, my daughter got to choose a prize for her good behaviour and her excellent hygiene.

At one point, the assistant asked Raphaela if she knew how to count, and if she knew how many teeth she had in her mouth.  Raphaela put on her intense thinking face and answered quietly, "A lot."

[NB  Under my particular HMO, children get free dental care until the age of eight, and then the fee for maintenance visits and treatments are minimal. Pretty cool...]

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.

Purim Redux

On Purim, because of the weeks of hype from her teachers and the country and her mother, Raphaela spun into a frenzy when she put on her costume for the Gan holiday party, and it resulted in crying and trauma for all involved.

Hoping to learn from experience, for Yom HaZikaron/HaAtzmaut [Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror going into Israeli Independence Day], I did not mention wearing clothing of the blue and white variety.  We did not discuss it other than mentioning that soon it would be Israel's 65th birthday.

This morning, I laid out two separate outfits for her and told her to choose one that would be appropriate for the special day at Gan, both sets of the variation on blue and white.  Raphaela selected one outfit, put it on and then immediately started undressing and saying that she would not wear this just because all the kids would be doing so.

I love that she emulates her mother, that Raphaela seems mostly unaffected by peer pressure and likes to live outside the box, but I had had enough of this particular power struggle. I calmly explained to her that sometimes we do things that initially we might not like, but in the end we find ourselves enjoying the experience.  I also explained to her that today and tomorrow represent the most special days for Israel, the place we live, and that it is fun and respectful to wear blue and white, just like the colors of the Israeli flag. I finished off my stern discussion by saying that if she rejected her clothing, she would stay home, not go to Gan and see her friends, and not participate in Israel's birthday party.

Then I walked out of the room and did a primal scream on the other end of the house.

Within minutes, Raphaela came over to me and agreed to wear the second outfit I had chosen, a pair of white leggings and a blue shirt with a white cat design.  The cat had a cupcake, which Raphaela explained was the cake in honor of Israel's birthday.

Crisis averted, though I feel that I need guidance on how to teach Raphaela to be herself, to love herself and her decision process, and yet understand that society and friendships serve a purpose as well.  While I have taken the less-traveled and more difficult route, I wish an easier journey for my daughter.