This afternoon, while driving to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo, a little green car cut in front of us and almost caused an accident. Without any swearing, I made it very clear that this particular driver had put us in danger, and that I felt some degree of anger.
Raphaela piped up from the back seat and suggested that M - the boy in her class famous for his prolific and inappropriate use of bathroom words during the school day- come over and try out his artillery on this driver. "That will show her," she concluded.
All I could do was laugh.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Last Call
The furniture has been moved around, the walls re-painted, some of the toys have gone AWOL from the shelves, and the names of the children have been removed from their cubbies.
When I saw Raphaela's teacher today, the one woman who has been more responsible all year for my daughter than the other two on staff, she told me that today was her last before the end of the school year next week. She then told me that I have a "wonderful and special kid," and that she felt so proud yesterday as she watched Raphaela play with a large group of her classmates, confident and vocal. Quite a change from the beginning of the year, when her inner world full of imaginary friends was more appealing to her than human company, and when English dominated Hebrew in her speech.
Grateful for this year, I have begun to prepare Raphaela for the changes ahead. She knows that once Gan closes for the year she will attend camp, and after a minor vacation she will transfer to a new school with mostly new friends.
I find that children this age have a good grasp on certain linear time concepts: "Now," "Soon," "Later," "Tomorrow," and even "In a few days." And yet now that Raphaela understands the long term plan, she asks me every morning when she will go to her new Gan. Here's hoping that her enthusiasm takes us through the entire month of August.
I was thinking that humanity might be better off if we ditched linear time. Not only would we cease rushing from place to place and constantly checking our watches, but it would also afford us the opportunity to see Past-Present-Future as a true continuum. If we could understand even on the smallest level how our actions and thoughts today ripple backward and forward in time, we would stop worrying, because we would know that it all turns out OK, according to the Divine Plan.
When I saw Raphaela's teacher today, the one woman who has been more responsible all year for my daughter than the other two on staff, she told me that today was her last before the end of the school year next week. She then told me that I have a "wonderful and special kid," and that she felt so proud yesterday as she watched Raphaela play with a large group of her classmates, confident and vocal. Quite a change from the beginning of the year, when her inner world full of imaginary friends was more appealing to her than human company, and when English dominated Hebrew in her speech.
Grateful for this year, I have begun to prepare Raphaela for the changes ahead. She knows that once Gan closes for the year she will attend camp, and after a minor vacation she will transfer to a new school with mostly new friends.
I find that children this age have a good grasp on certain linear time concepts: "Now," "Soon," "Later," "Tomorrow," and even "In a few days." And yet now that Raphaela understands the long term plan, she asks me every morning when she will go to her new Gan. Here's hoping that her enthusiasm takes us through the entire month of August.
I was thinking that humanity might be better off if we ditched linear time. Not only would we cease rushing from place to place and constantly checking our watches, but it would also afford us the opportunity to see Past-Present-Future as a true continuum. If we could understand even on the smallest level how our actions and thoughts today ripple backward and forward in time, we would stop worrying, because we would know that it all turns out OK, according to the Divine Plan.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Early Morning Risers
I could easily be labeled a "Crazy Cat Lady" by my neighbors: every morning, easily before seven am, I go outside with a little container of cat food and a bottle of water. At three different stations near my house, I put out some breakfast and refill the bowl of water, as the Israeli Summer gets more and more scorching each day. I have been doing so since Hurricane Katerina, when Raphaela was an infant I would take her with me in a sling, and now she accompanies me and helps me in this task I have undertaken.
In fact, these days I am an 'agent' for a Japanese woman named Takako, a non-Jewish Zionist who travels to Israel several times a year, and spends most of her time walking around the entire city of Jerusalem looking for cats to feed and rescue. When she returns to her home, she leaves me bags of food to act on her behalf as well my own.
Predictably, we bump into the same people every morning, the religious men in the area going to synagogue, the older Russian woman sweeping away the leaves from the front of her building, my elderly downstairs neighbor who takes in her "constitutional" every morning at the crack of dawn.
We also see a religious man, always carrying a bunch of plastic bags, talking to himself and collecting bottles from the recycling bin. I happen to know him and his family, they live about 20 minutes away from my street and he is certified as a lawyer, his wife is a professor at the Hebrew University; several years ago he was diagnosed with cancer and received chemotherapy and as far as I know has fully recovered.
Once, I heard a Jerusalem-based comedian joke that religious men here have a 'thing' with plastic bags, he correctly observed that everywhere in the city you see them carrying their life, their black hats etc. in these random bags, rather than a backpack or a man purse. But I wonder if there is more to this story with this particular gentleman, why he wanders the streets so early in the morning and collects bottles, and if his wife and children are aware of this behavior.
Recently I have understood that drawing conclusions and judging others based upon outward signs and appearances helps no one, and so I will continue to keep an eye on this man from a distance, offering help if he should ever ask.
In fact, these days I am an 'agent' for a Japanese woman named Takako, a non-Jewish Zionist who travels to Israel several times a year, and spends most of her time walking around the entire city of Jerusalem looking for cats to feed and rescue. When she returns to her home, she leaves me bags of food to act on her behalf as well my own.
Predictably, we bump into the same people every morning, the religious men in the area going to synagogue, the older Russian woman sweeping away the leaves from the front of her building, my elderly downstairs neighbor who takes in her "constitutional" every morning at the crack of dawn.
We also see a religious man, always carrying a bunch of plastic bags, talking to himself and collecting bottles from the recycling bin. I happen to know him and his family, they live about 20 minutes away from my street and he is certified as a lawyer, his wife is a professor at the Hebrew University; several years ago he was diagnosed with cancer and received chemotherapy and as far as I know has fully recovered.
Once, I heard a Jerusalem-based comedian joke that religious men here have a 'thing' with plastic bags, he correctly observed that everywhere in the city you see them carrying their life, their black hats etc. in these random bags, rather than a backpack or a man purse. But I wonder if there is more to this story with this particular gentleman, why he wanders the streets so early in the morning and collects bottles, and if his wife and children are aware of this behavior.
Recently I have understood that drawing conclusions and judging others based upon outward signs and appearances helps no one, and so I will continue to keep an eye on this man from a distance, offering help if he should ever ask.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
My Daughter the Yekke
The Carnival at Gan on Friday featured a full small animals petting zoo, with an iguana, a turtle, a pheasant, a rabbit and a hamster. The turtle, poor thing, received the brunt of the abuse from the smaller children, with them pulling the limbs, dropping him and spinning him around on the floor. I watched as one child got especially violent with this creature, and for five minutes the mother actually encouraged her son to continue in this vein of abusive curiosity. Several parents including myself couldn't handle it anymore, and at one point I said, "OK, I think it is time to give another child a turn with the turtle." Afterwards, this small group of horrified mothers agreed that "No" or "Kindness and Gentleness" would have been lovely words to hear, that it is never too early to start giving toddlers boundaries.
The rabbit and hamster didn't fare much better, but at least they could run away. Raphaela took it upon herself to protect the hamster; she put him in an open box with some cucumbers for food and sat in the corner of the room, stroking him gently. When other children approached, she mediated their interaction, and if they got too rough, she stopped them.
====================================================================
The Carnival also had a bouncy castle, and most of the children threw their shoes off and dove right inside. Raphaela, disturbed by the chaos of shoes and sandals scattered about, took it upon herself to match up all the pairs and line them up neatly at the side of the courtyard. Only then could she continue her play, reflecting, of course, my preference for order and for putting things away so you can find it afterwards.
=====================================================================
On Shabbat, bored and playing independently in the other room, Raphaela took apart a small bookcase, laying out each shelf and piece of the frame of the floor. She had almost as much fun watching me put it back together (cursing under my breath) afterwards.
At least I know that she has the IKEA gene, which I am sadly lacking.
The rabbit and hamster didn't fare much better, but at least they could run away. Raphaela took it upon herself to protect the hamster; she put him in an open box with some cucumbers for food and sat in the corner of the room, stroking him gently. When other children approached, she mediated their interaction, and if they got too rough, she stopped them.
====================================================================
The Carnival also had a bouncy castle, and most of the children threw their shoes off and dove right inside. Raphaela, disturbed by the chaos of shoes and sandals scattered about, took it upon herself to match up all the pairs and line them up neatly at the side of the courtyard. Only then could she continue her play, reflecting, of course, my preference for order and for putting things away so you can find it afterwards.
=====================================================================
On Shabbat, bored and playing independently in the other room, Raphaela took apart a small bookcase, laying out each shelf and piece of the frame of the floor. She had almost as much fun watching me put it back together (cursing under my breath) afterwards.
At least I know that she has the IKEA gene, which I am sadly lacking.
Friday, July 26, 2013
I don't normally like to take Raphaela with me to a facial treatment or something else that is meant to be relaxing, but with the Summer vacation I didn't have much choice. Actually, Raphaela quite enjoys coming with me, because she knows that my friend Tally loves kids and will give her the princess treatment; nail polish, lip gloss and usually a small treat.
Sitting in the car on the way to the studio, Raphaela suddenly said, "Mommy, I think I should give Tally some money because she is so nice to me and does very good work."
Literally stunned into silence for a minute at the spontaneous and mature comprehension my daughter had just displayed, I finally said, "Raphaela, that is a wonderful idea and so kind to acknowledge Tally's hard work."
As soon as we arrived, Raphaela opened her little pocketbook, took out her change purse (which contains small coins), gave Tally a few coins and said thank you. And indeed, she chose silver sparkly nail polish and lip gloss .
When I finished my facial treatment, I started to take my wallet out to pay and Raphaela interrupted, "Mommy, you don't have to pay, I took care of it!"
Sitting in the car on the way to the studio, Raphaela suddenly said, "Mommy, I think I should give Tally some money because she is so nice to me and does very good work."
Literally stunned into silence for a minute at the spontaneous and mature comprehension my daughter had just displayed, I finally said, "Raphaela, that is a wonderful idea and so kind to acknowledge Tally's hard work."
As soon as we arrived, Raphaela opened her little pocketbook, took out her change purse (which contains small coins), gave Tally a few coins and said thank you. And indeed, she chose silver sparkly nail polish and lip gloss .
When I finished my facial treatment, I started to take my wallet out to pay and Raphaela interrupted, "Mommy, you don't have to pay, I took care of it!"
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Happy Birthday to Me!
Raphaela plays "birthday party" every day. If she is wearing casual clothing, she changes into a Shabbat dress and chooses a crown from her collection. She sets the table with a table cloth and a pretend cake, and organizes toys and books and cards with birthday blessings. We sing songs to the honoree, sometimes her imaginary friends like Bob the Builder and his "friend" Wendy, the vowels of the ABC or her stuffed dolls, sometimes to Raphaela herself.
My daughter has taught me that every day is a reason to celebrate and to recognize in joy who we are, to remember that we all deserve to be surrounded by people who love us and enjoy our company.
Today, for my birthday, Raphaela gave me one of her crowns and asked me to wear it all day, even while she spent the day in Gan. I was more than happy to comply and not at all embarrassed to be a grown adult walking around the street in public (the post office, the shopping mall, the bank) with a wreath of flowers on my head.
In fact, rather than get funny looks, the random population of Jerusalem embraced my special day: When I walked into the bakery on Palmach, the staff and seated patrons burst out in song.
At the makeup counter, an older Israeli woman (a complete stranger) played with the curls on my hair, declared me a Leo and wished me health and success.
In the supermarket, the computer printed out a special birthday wish at the bottom of my receipt.
When I collected Raphaela from Gan, her teachers organized an impromptu dance of celebration.
I had hoped to get away for my birthday, but taking advantage of the fact that Raphaela has a full day of quality child care until August, I chose to wait until her actual Summer vacation for us to have an adventure together. Instead I took a day off from work and ignored patient calls. I spent the morning eating a leisurely breakfast and doing some creative writing.
While my afternoon errands were fairly commonplace, I did not feel rushed in any way and the cashier at the supermarket, an Ethiopian woman whom I have known for many years, remarked that I had a relaxed glow to my face. The nine hours that Raphaela spent at Gan belonged to me, without any responsibility or timetable, and it felt wonderful.
I need to do this more often.
My daughter has taught me that every day is a reason to celebrate and to recognize in joy who we are, to remember that we all deserve to be surrounded by people who love us and enjoy our company.
Today, for my birthday, Raphaela gave me one of her crowns and asked me to wear it all day, even while she spent the day in Gan. I was more than happy to comply and not at all embarrassed to be a grown adult walking around the street in public (the post office, the shopping mall, the bank) with a wreath of flowers on my head.
In fact, rather than get funny looks, the random population of Jerusalem embraced my special day: When I walked into the bakery on Palmach, the staff and seated patrons burst out in song.
At the makeup counter, an older Israeli woman (a complete stranger) played with the curls on my hair, declared me a Leo and wished me health and success.
In the supermarket, the computer printed out a special birthday wish at the bottom of my receipt.
When I collected Raphaela from Gan, her teachers organized an impromptu dance of celebration.
I had hoped to get away for my birthday, but taking advantage of the fact that Raphaela has a full day of quality child care until August, I chose to wait until her actual Summer vacation for us to have an adventure together. Instead I took a day off from work and ignored patient calls. I spent the morning eating a leisurely breakfast and doing some creative writing.
While my afternoon errands were fairly commonplace, I did not feel rushed in any way and the cashier at the supermarket, an Ethiopian woman whom I have known for many years, remarked that I had a relaxed glow to my face. The nine hours that Raphaela spent at Gan belonged to me, without any responsibility or timetable, and it felt wonderful.
I need to do this more often.
Monday, July 22, 2013
New Royal Baby
370,000 infants were born yesterday, July 22, 2013, on the same day as the new royal baby boy, third in line for the throne as the son of Kate and William. Bravo to Kate for choosing a natural birth; and kudos to her husband for being in the room with her the entire time, just like "normal" people with lesser bloodlines, and for taking his two weeks of paternity leave.
I almost hoped for a girl, if only to force the UK to officially acknowledge that a girl/future woman would become Queen, and not simply because her parents didn't give birth to any younger brothers. Plus, little girls are much more fun to dress; the Brits do love their fancy hats!
Boo to the overwhelming press presence, stalking the royal family and standing in front of the hospital for several weeks in anticipation of hearing some small tidbit of news about the birth of the future heir. At the end of the day, Kate is a human being, a woman who had a baby, let her accomplish this surrounded by peace and quiet and privacy.
Several recent studies have proven that fetuses start learning the most important lessons in the womb, from the sound of the mother's voice to the food they will eat, early language acquisition , and regarding the stress levels and emotional atmosphere of the 'other side.' What did this child learn, with his parents and his mother's pregnancy constantly under scrutiny?
I certainly did not have a group of reporters following my pregnancy and the birth of Raphaela. But I went through 12 hours of a natural birth and it was not "royal" or pretty or press worthy; though it was a bona fide miracle, as I am sure every new mother feels when they hold their child for the first time.
According to the reports, an inordinate amount of swearing came out of my mouth during those 12 hours.
When I look at pictures of myself right after the birth, I look happy but tired, I am wearing my glasses and my hair is a mess and I have monitors and IV threads attached all over the place. Not quite the photo opportunity I might have wished, and I would imagine that Kate, after approximately 14 hours of labour, felt the same way. (That being said, my cousin who is now pregnant with her third, manages to look like a super-model right after her births, and the new baby right-out-of-the-womb pictures they send out to the family are enviable.)
Welcome to the world to a little boy who will never experience privacy, who will be born into a home of tradition and wealth, status and culture and responsibility. Mostly the responsibility to prove that a figure-head monarchy can be justified in the 21rst century.
The other 369,999 children born yesterday will not have the resources and the opportunity of this little Prince.
I almost hoped for a girl, if only to force the UK to officially acknowledge that a girl/future woman would become Queen, and not simply because her parents didn't give birth to any younger brothers. Plus, little girls are much more fun to dress; the Brits do love their fancy hats!
Boo to the overwhelming press presence, stalking the royal family and standing in front of the hospital for several weeks in anticipation of hearing some small tidbit of news about the birth of the future heir. At the end of the day, Kate is a human being, a woman who had a baby, let her accomplish this surrounded by peace and quiet and privacy.
Several recent studies have proven that fetuses start learning the most important lessons in the womb, from the sound of the mother's voice to the food they will eat, early language acquisition , and regarding the stress levels and emotional atmosphere of the 'other side.' What did this child learn, with his parents and his mother's pregnancy constantly under scrutiny?
I certainly did not have a group of reporters following my pregnancy and the birth of Raphaela. But I went through 12 hours of a natural birth and it was not "royal" or pretty or press worthy; though it was a bona fide miracle, as I am sure every new mother feels when they hold their child for the first time.
According to the reports, an inordinate amount of swearing came out of my mouth during those 12 hours.
When I look at pictures of myself right after the birth, I look happy but tired, I am wearing my glasses and my hair is a mess and I have monitors and IV threads attached all over the place. Not quite the photo opportunity I might have wished, and I would imagine that Kate, after approximately 14 hours of labour, felt the same way. (That being said, my cousin who is now pregnant with her third, manages to look like a super-model right after her births, and the new baby right-out-of-the-womb pictures they send out to the family are enviable.)
Welcome to the world to a little boy who will never experience privacy, who will be born into a home of tradition and wealth, status and culture and responsibility. Mostly the responsibility to prove that a figure-head monarchy can be justified in the 21rst century.
The other 369,999 children born yesterday will not have the resources and the opportunity of this little Prince.
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