Some of my loyal blog readers have been critical of me in the past, claiming that I only present the "rosy" side of parenting, and of single motherhood. Well, you guys will enjoy this posting.
Here is the unvarnished reality, the overwhelming experience that is the life of the JSMBC:
I cannot pee, shower, eat, read the newspaper, wash the dishes, check email or throw out the garbage without having an active, curious and at the moment, willful and slightly destructive toddler undertoe. When Raphaela is awake, I must sacrifice all my personal needs in order to keep her happy and entertained, and to make sure that she does not get into areas of sharp objects or poisonous house cleaning products.
I am the only adult in the house saying, "The garbage pail is ichy, it is not a toy." "Harry's litter box is special sand, not the kind of sand we play with at Gan." "When we eat, we sit at the table, we don't carry and spill food all over the house." "Make nice to Mommy, in our family we don't hit and we don't throw."
I am the only adult in the house telling Raphaela how much I love her, reading her stories and playing with her, bathing her and cuddling her.
Sometimes an overenthusiastic hug is accompanied by accidental hair pulling, head bashing or stepping of toes, several times per day. I know that Raphaela does not mean to cause me physical pain, but just because I am a Mommy, "if you prick me, do I not bleed?"
I need a shot of coffee in the morning to give me a jump start, and I would enjoy a nice glass of red wine once Raphaela goes to sleep, but I cannot be sluggish the following morning, when my daughter wakes up at 5:30 am.
I have been meaning to get a haircut since Pessach. At this point I don't know when this will happen, because it must be coordinated with my work in the Chiropractic clinic, and Raphaela's time in Gan. In the mornings I pray that Raphaela acclimate to Gan quickly, so I am not stuck there for an hour when I need to do other errands before work. I have not had a vacation in the truest sense of the word since I started fertility treatments. I have not seen a movie in the theatre in over two years, and when I rent a video at home, I fall asleep in the middle out of sheer exhaustion.
In between patients, I prepare meals and fold laundry, wash dishes and straighten up the house and return phone calls. As soon as I finish work, I pick up Raphaela from Gan and the rest of the evening belongs to her. As soon as I tuck Raphaela into bed, we realize that Bunny - her most treasured and essential of transition objects- has gone missing. By the time I find Bunny, Raphaela has regained her state of alertness and will not settle into bed.
I worried about Raphaela when I was hospitalized after the emergency appendectomy, and I put everything on hold when Raphaela had her surgery.
Now that Raphaela is walking, when she refuses to leave the elevator or starts running into the street, it is me and only me who drops whatever I am holding and protects her. When she makes a fuss about getting dressed or being fastened in the car seat, it is me and only me who must calm her down and explain rules, in the most loving and quiet voice I can muster. When she gets tired of walking, it is me and only me who picks her up and carries her, now matter how far the distance and no matter how much my back hurts.
And then the cracks in my armor break open, and I want to cry and scream and run away to a deserted island where I have no responsibilities.
You may want to argue that with minor exceptions, most of the scenario I have described applies to any mother. But women in a couple relationship have another person in the house, even if they are a shitty partner. There is another income coming into the house. Someone else can go to the supermarket if necessary. When I hit my leg on a moving box, fall on the floor and start crying, no one comes to check on me or help me stand up. When I desperately need to take a nap to make up for lost sleep, no one says, "Let me take Raphaela to the park, so you can get the rest you so deserve."
No one hugs me, or asks me, "So, how was your day?" No one says, "You look great in that outfit." No one tells me, "I love you."
I am not sure that my parents would be available baby sitters, even if we lived on the same continent. And other than a few hours of baby sitting here and there, I would not want a nanny living in my house to take care of my child; why did I have my beautiful daughter if I planned on handing her off to someone else to raise?
If you are a first time reader of this blog, know that I love my daughter and that there is not a single moment with her that I regret. Also know that if you are planning on bringing a child into the world, you need a reliable and available support system around you, otherwise you will lose yourself in the process.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Only in Israel, The Flip Side
The new neighbors on my small street are so used to me, and my car when I lived on the other side of the road, that at least one of them did not read the concise and polite note I left in Hebrew in the mailboxes of the building. It read: "Allow me to introduce myself, I will be moving into this building in the beginning of September. I understand from my land lord that the second parking space to the left belongs to my living space, and I will try my very best to park in an accurate and considerate manner. Please feel free to contact me, should you have any questions."
I have been parking in the new building's lot for the last three days. Today I found an anonymous note on the windshield of my car, along with a few scratches that had not been there before. It read: "You have such gaul. How dare you park in the lot of our building when you have a private parking spot across the street where you live. You are one of the most obnoxious people I have ever seen."
If I weren't so exhausted from the move, I might have entered into anxiety and panic. Instead, I took a red marker, drew a map of the parking lot and indicated my parking space, and wrote the following: "The car, whose license plate is *** now lives in this building, along with it's owner. Thank you. PS I am in fact not obnoxious." I posted the letter near the mailboxes, so any resident would see it immediately upon entering the building.
I am sure this man or woman did not mean to think the worst of me, or key my car, and I know that I have not violated anyone's parking space, so I hope that my calm response to the situation solves the problem. As well, perhaps the man or woman who performed these anonymous actions should seen professional help for anger management.
I have been parking in the new building's lot for the last three days. Today I found an anonymous note on the windshield of my car, along with a few scratches that had not been there before. It read: "You have such gaul. How dare you park in the lot of our building when you have a private parking spot across the street where you live. You are one of the most obnoxious people I have ever seen."
If I weren't so exhausted from the move, I might have entered into anxiety and panic. Instead, I took a red marker, drew a map of the parking lot and indicated my parking space, and wrote the following: "The car, whose license plate is *** now lives in this building, along with it's owner. Thank you. PS I am in fact not obnoxious." I posted the letter near the mailboxes, so any resident would see it immediately upon entering the building.
I am sure this man or woman did not mean to think the worst of me, or key my car, and I know that I have not violated anyone's parking space, so I hope that my calm response to the situation solves the problem. As well, perhaps the man or woman who performed these anonymous actions should seen professional help for anger management.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Top Ten Moving List
10. If it is not attached to you, it will end up packed in a random box, where you will not find it until three days later. Like the TV remote, the cell phone charger, clean underwear, or the box of Cheerios for Raphaela's breakfast.
9. As much as you think you have sorted through, thrown out and donated to charity, you will still bring more junk than you can possibly imagine, or have room in storage. As a former pack-rat, it surprised me to find some of the items in some of the boxes.
8. My G-d Raphaela and I have alot of books, enough to fill a small library. I suppose that confirms the supposition that I come from an Upper-Middle Class Jewish Intellectual family.
7. Once you get involved in packing and moving and trying to find the floor again, it is fairly easy to forget to eat, drink or sleep. For several days.
6. The pet psychology books say that a cat owner should lock the feline in the house for two weeks, so he can learn and conquer his new environment. Because we moved right down the street, I gave Harry the opportunity to escape into the garden, and he has chosen instead to hide under the bed, coming up for air and food occassionaly. It took him a whole day in the new house to decide to use the litter box.
5. If you are going to have chaos, do it all at once; bring in the electrician, the phone technician, the cable guy, the movers and the house cleaners, and let them trip over each other. When they all leave, it will remind you of the famous Yiddish story, "It Could Always Be Worse."
But don't expect to have internet access for several days.
4. No house will ever be baby proof, and a new place provides new opportunities to explore and destroy.
3. Don't open that closet space above the bathroom, the door is warped and will not close.
2. People are amazing when you ask for help. My friend Adi, the mother of Raphaela's friend from Gan, took Raphaela back and forth from nursery for several days, so I had one less headache. Without my asking, my friend Adi then sent over her mother Chana, a super-organized ER nurse, to get my house in shape and help me see some clarity and floor space. Chana adopted me as a daughter, making me eat and drink and helping get my office ready for patients, and Raphaela's room liveable for a decent night's sleep. Then Chana volunteered her friend Yehuda to help me with major lifting and carrying.
Only in Israel.
1. You can never have enough closet space, and a kind land lord is worth his weight in gold.
9. As much as you think you have sorted through, thrown out and donated to charity, you will still bring more junk than you can possibly imagine, or have room in storage. As a former pack-rat, it surprised me to find some of the items in some of the boxes.
8. My G-d Raphaela and I have alot of books, enough to fill a small library. I suppose that confirms the supposition that I come from an Upper-Middle Class Jewish Intellectual family.
7. Once you get involved in packing and moving and trying to find the floor again, it is fairly easy to forget to eat, drink or sleep. For several days.
6. The pet psychology books say that a cat owner should lock the feline in the house for two weeks, so he can learn and conquer his new environment. Because we moved right down the street, I gave Harry the opportunity to escape into the garden, and he has chosen instead to hide under the bed, coming up for air and food occassionaly. It took him a whole day in the new house to decide to use the litter box.
5. If you are going to have chaos, do it all at once; bring in the electrician, the phone technician, the cable guy, the movers and the house cleaners, and let them trip over each other. When they all leave, it will remind you of the famous Yiddish story, "It Could Always Be Worse."
But don't expect to have internet access for several days.
4. No house will ever be baby proof, and a new place provides new opportunities to explore and destroy.
3. Don't open that closet space above the bathroom, the door is warped and will not close.
2. People are amazing when you ask for help. My friend Adi, the mother of Raphaela's friend from Gan, took Raphaela back and forth from nursery for several days, so I had one less headache. Without my asking, my friend Adi then sent over her mother Chana, a super-organized ER nurse, to get my house in shape and help me see some clarity and floor space. Chana adopted me as a daughter, making me eat and drink and helping get my office ready for patients, and Raphaela's room liveable for a decent night's sleep. Then Chana volunteered her friend Yehuda to help me with major lifting and carrying.
Only in Israel.
1. You can never have enough closet space, and a kind land lord is worth his weight in gold.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Parents Unite
One of the new hires, the woman who rubbed me the wrong way at the parents meeting last week, has apparently made the same unimpressive impression upon many of the other parents in the Gan. I have had several conversations with mothers and fathers who feel similarly: this woman has a perpetual look of confusion bordering on pain, she takes no initiative and literally stands in the corner shaking, waiting for instructions.
It does not take brains to realize that if you don't know what to do with a child, a smile and a hug works really well. For a person who supposedly worked at other nurseries, she has trouble remembering names and protocol, and cannot muster a smile for children who pick up on every nuance of behaviour.
We have generally agreed that we need to give her a chance to settle into the Gan and become more comfortable with the children, but if the situation remains essentially unchanged by the end of this week, I will say something to the head nursery teacher who hired her.
At the moment, I would not trust the well being and happiness of Raphaela to this woman.
It does not take brains to realize that if you don't know what to do with a child, a smile and a hug works really well. For a person who supposedly worked at other nurseries, she has trouble remembering names and protocol, and cannot muster a smile for children who pick up on every nuance of behaviour.
We have generally agreed that we need to give her a chance to settle into the Gan and become more comfortable with the children, but if the situation remains essentially unchanged by the end of this week, I will say something to the head nursery teacher who hired her.
At the moment, I would not trust the well being and happiness of Raphaela to this woman.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Gan Reunion
This morning, armed with three bags worth of Gan supplies, Raphaela and I returned to the routine of the school year, along with almost every other parent in Israel. The head nursery teacher asked the parents to stay the entire morning and hang out in the corner, to be seen but not to hover; and so we mothers (especially those who knew each other from last year) hung out and caught up. Across the board, the parents admitted that as nice as it is to spend time with your child, Thank G-d for the return of sanity, and some free time as grown-ups.
It was an amazing sense of relief and joy to watch Raphaela walking around, on two legs instead of all-fours, as she had done until the end of the last school year.
Once Raphaela feels secure enough to be left at Gan, I will re-start my running program, using the track through the forest right behind the nursery school building. I ultimately plan on running the Jerusalem 10K next Spring, not to mention feeling toned again, for the first time in two years since the birth.
NEWS FLASH: The woman who was supposed to be the supervisor for Raphaela's group, one of the new hires, let the Gan know yesterday that due to "personal reasons," she would be unable to fulfill her role.
The most interesting innovation this year should be the post Jewish holidays mass toilet training. The head nursery teacher informed the parents that starting after Succot (mid-October), all the kids from the age of one and higher will be encouraged to drop their pants and toilet train together, following the Montissouri technique.
I know this route works especially well, though I have one reservation: Raphaela has only begun recently to explore her more private anatomy, and I hope that the Gan can maintain some decorum among the children regarding relative state of dress during this toilet training adventure.
We ended the day with friends from the States, for a relaxed meal at the restaurant at the Botanical Gardens; my one last gasp at Summer vacation before the move next week.
It was an amazing sense of relief and joy to watch Raphaela walking around, on two legs instead of all-fours, as she had done until the end of the last school year.
Once Raphaela feels secure enough to be left at Gan, I will re-start my running program, using the track through the forest right behind the nursery school building. I ultimately plan on running the Jerusalem 10K next Spring, not to mention feeling toned again, for the first time in two years since the birth.
NEWS FLASH: The woman who was supposed to be the supervisor for Raphaela's group, one of the new hires, let the Gan know yesterday that due to "personal reasons," she would be unable to fulfill her role.
The most interesting innovation this year should be the post Jewish holidays mass toilet training. The head nursery teacher informed the parents that starting after Succot (mid-October), all the kids from the age of one and higher will be encouraged to drop their pants and toilet train together, following the Montissouri technique.
I know this route works especially well, though I have one reservation: Raphaela has only begun recently to explore her more private anatomy, and I hope that the Gan can maintain some decorum among the children regarding relative state of dress during this toilet training adventure.
We ended the day with friends from the States, for a relaxed meal at the restaurant at the Botanical Gardens; my one last gasp at Summer vacation before the move next week.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Report from the Gan Meeting
Last night I attended the meeting of the parents of Gan Yarok, for the year 2011-2012. It felt good to not be the "newbie" (or in Rocky Horror Picture Show, the "virgin").
1. One of the new moms clearly had an issue with ADHD. I say that not as a snarky parent but as a doctor. She had no impulse control, was interrupting others when they spoke, and could not sit still for more than several minutes. I don't judge her, in fact I can't imagine how she lives that way. What does, however, concern me that ADHD, a chemical imbalance, most likely has been passed on to some degree to her daughter, and I wouldn't want the staff to be so busy keeping this one child in line that they neglect the other children in the group.
2. Two of the nursery teachers from last year returned, and two of them are new. One of the new teachers rubbed many of the parents the wrong way. She sat through the entire meeting with her arms crossed, barely smiling, like she did not want to be there, and the one time she did address the group she sounded unintelligent and shallow; more like a woman who would sit and gossip with her friends, than a woman I am trusting to take care of Raphaela. I hope that the head nursery teacher made a wise choice with this particular person, and I am certainly willing to give her a chance, but will have no hesitation speaking up if I feel Raphaela is suffering because of a lousy personell choice.
3. There was massive birthday panic among the group, because at least three of the children have birthdays right when Gan starts, this Wednesday-Thursday- Friday. Raphaela's English birthday falls out this year between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, and I am hoping to arrange her party before the big Succot vacation.
4. At one point, the head nursery teacher restated her objection to gift-giving as a form of bribery. She then went on to praise various parents who last year organized group gifts on Purim and at the end of the year, and on the occasion of the marriage of one of the nursery teachers. Several other women got credit for the projects I organized, and then one of those women was asked to become head of the parents committee, based upon her dedication and hard work. I am not one generally who wants the public pat on the head, but my contribution was completely ignored, and it pissed me off.
And to wrap up, we have a new vocabulary word in our house: ELMO. Oh sad sad day.
1. One of the new moms clearly had an issue with ADHD. I say that not as a snarky parent but as a doctor. She had no impulse control, was interrupting others when they spoke, and could not sit still for more than several minutes. I don't judge her, in fact I can't imagine how she lives that way. What does, however, concern me that ADHD, a chemical imbalance, most likely has been passed on to some degree to her daughter, and I wouldn't want the staff to be so busy keeping this one child in line that they neglect the other children in the group.
2. Two of the nursery teachers from last year returned, and two of them are new. One of the new teachers rubbed many of the parents the wrong way. She sat through the entire meeting with her arms crossed, barely smiling, like she did not want to be there, and the one time she did address the group she sounded unintelligent and shallow; more like a woman who would sit and gossip with her friends, than a woman I am trusting to take care of Raphaela. I hope that the head nursery teacher made a wise choice with this particular person, and I am certainly willing to give her a chance, but will have no hesitation speaking up if I feel Raphaela is suffering because of a lousy personell choice.
3. There was massive birthday panic among the group, because at least three of the children have birthdays right when Gan starts, this Wednesday-Thursday- Friday. Raphaela's English birthday falls out this year between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, and I am hoping to arrange her party before the big Succot vacation.
4. At one point, the head nursery teacher restated her objection to gift-giving as a form of bribery. She then went on to praise various parents who last year organized group gifts on Purim and at the end of the year, and on the occasion of the marriage of one of the nursery teachers. Several other women got credit for the projects I organized, and then one of those women was asked to become head of the parents committee, based upon her dedication and hard work. I am not one generally who wants the public pat on the head, but my contribution was completely ignored, and it pissed me off.
And to wrap up, we have a new vocabulary word in our house: ELMO. Oh sad sad day.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
From Two to Twelve
Raphaela now prefers to spend time with her two-year old play date friends, rather than with me, her Mommy. My daughter has reached the teen years earlier than expected. During the recent summer vacation, we have been enjoying play dates - both the grown-up stimulation and the child distraction - and Raphaela spent all day today begging me to see her friend "Na Nu" (Alona), who goes to Gan with her and lives down the street. Several times, Raphaeal brought me the phone and watched me patiently as I dialed.
Unfortunately I was quite ill today, and could not move, never mind arrange a play date. Thank G-d I called our babysitting sisters and they were able to keep Raphaela busy while I rested.
Raphaela then spent the rest of today standing in front of the fridge, essentially complaining that there was nothing to eat in the house. Guess I have to get back to the supermarket.
Unfortunately I was quite ill today, and could not move, never mind arrange a play date. Thank G-d I called our babysitting sisters and they were able to keep Raphaela busy while I rested.
Raphaela then spent the rest of today standing in front of the fridge, essentially complaining that there was nothing to eat in the house. Guess I have to get back to the supermarket.
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