So That's Why They're Called Chickens!

First, some overdue shout-outs to some Loyal Readers/Posters who have not been shouted-out to yet: My former third grade teacher, Morah Taragin, who feels personally responsible for only teaching us "hoveh" in third grade and not attacking "atid." Don't worry, Morah Taragin! (I actually couldn't remember if we called you "Morah" or "Mrs." and when I asked my mother, her response was, "Don't remember. Cheesh, it was when you were eight!") Anyway, the point is, we wouldn't have been able to memorize atid as well, what with cramming for our "Third Grade Poetry Play" and all. (My poem was about mud squishing between my toes. I am still traumatized to this day. What eight year old girl wants to get up and talk about "mud" and "toes?" Although I guess it doesn't matter, since, "cheesh, it was when I was eight!" I'll just repress any emotions I felt before nine.) Another BY shout-out to Ora "N" Thav, former 12Cer, who is very worried that there will be a quiz on nivim or sufganiot. Don't worry, Ora, since you have such good attendance on the blog you will be exempt from the quiz. And Sharon, I'm glad you, too, are reading the blog instead of writing anecdotals, and if you like, I can write a note to Morah Sara taking full blame for the blank pages.


Let's see....Shabbos was nice and relaxing, no company, Donny took the kids to shul Friday night. Yay! I read the entire "Tales of Beedle the Bard" which was sad because I was looking forward to reading it so much and now it's finished. As they say in Israel, "Ani maytah al JK Rowling." Then I continued my Shabbos ulpan with the Israeli version of Cosmo. I figured I should read stuff in Hebrew, but it doesn't have to be boring! So I read an article and I understood most of it, which I was happy about. Friday night we started our new phase of Operation Get Yaakov To Go To Sleep. Donny held him on the couch and wouldn't let him get up, or climb, or do anything except sit. He said to him, "Yaakov, you are categorically banned from going to sleep. You may not go to sleep. You must sit here with me on the couch."

Historical anecdote: Now, we need to give....get ready for it...kappayim l'Dov! See, this parenting idea started about 23 years ago with Dadz. There is a tale that is now part of Leibtag lore, for Momz and Dadz had a similar (although much worse) case of Not Going to Sleep-itis with my brother, Aaron. The story starts on a dark night, much like tonight. Aaron refused to go to sleep. So Dadz, in an act of heroism, stayed up with Aaron all night. Of course, at a certain point, Aaron was very tired and ready to go to sleep, but Dadz would not let him, and made him stay up. (I may have alluded to this story in an earlier post, but now you get all the gory details.) And so it went, Dadz learning at the kitchen table, Aaron hysterical, Dadz refusing to let him go to sleep. Sounds cruel, but it worked! So well, in fact, that these days, Aaron would gladly sleep through the night and most of the next day as well. Anyway, the idea seemed to work with our little Yaakov. After about ten minutes, Yaakov got really bored/tired. He started begging to go to sleep. Donny "considered" the request, and eventually "relented." Yaakov, so glad to be released from the couch, practically ran to bed. Yay! Score one for the parents, until Yaakov figures out our plan and we're back to square one.


A funny Ariella story: Friday night, we had chicken for dinner. (I know, very original.) Ariella started asking me questions about the chicken bone - "Why is it called a leg?" - and we realized she did not know that the "chickens" on the farm are directly related to the "chickens" on the table. We explained to her the farm-to-table process. She asked, "But if we kill the chickens, how come they're still around?" And when that had been satisfactorily explained, her face lit up with understanding. "I get it! The reason they call them 'chickens' is because they have 'chicken' on them!" An "aha" moment if there ever was one!