This blog post is dedicated to Momz and Cheryl, who want "a new blog every day."
For those of you following the exciting developments in our saga, "Is It Strep?" the answer, as it is sometimes, is no. Just a virus. Phew! Yaakov's tonsils live to see another day!
Tomorrow is Ariella's last day of gan. Can you imagine? We have come a very far way from the little girl in September who was plunked into a class of 32 Hebrew speakers, knew not a one, and only recognized an "aleph" and the word "chalav." Now, she's the one recording the message on our answering machine in Hebrew and regaling me with the ins and outs of gan politics. Plus, she keeps me up to date on the parsha. It's a big moment for all of us. Well, maybe not for Yaakov, who's too busy taking a scrap of cardboard and turning it into a drawbridge for his cars. Donny decided to celebrate by going out and buying Ariella a bracelet which he spent too much money on.
In celebration of the last day of gan, the kids get to come in bathing suits tomorrow and they're doing some sort of pool/water activities. Ariella is super jazzed about this. This is an improvement over what we thought the last day activity was. On Sunday, Ariella told me, "We have to bring a change of clothes and 'magvonim' - i.e. wipes - on Tuesday." We figured they were doing some sort of cleaning, hence the wipes, and the gan is unbelievably dirty, hence the change of clothes. Today we were enlightened - the change of clothes is for after swimming, and they were told to bring a 'magevet' - towel, not magvonim. Phew! Waaaaay more fun. They also reminded the kids to bring their underwear in their bag. Haha! How many times did that happen to you, ladies? You know it did. Those camp days when you went in your bathing suit, then forgot to pack underwear and were forced to either wear the damp bathing suit all day (gross), or, ahem, go commando? (Grosser?) So I am going to be super-vigilant tomorrow, underwear-wise.
(PS Momz and Cheryl - are you happy? I'm blogging about underwear, for gosh darn's sake!)
Tonight, after some hairy fighting (I mean that literally; Yaakov enjoys grabbing fistfuls of Ariella's and yanking. He may wear the occasional pair of heels, but he is a boy at heart), the kids started playing nicely together. I said to Yaakov, "Are you and Ariella playing together so nicely?" in a very sweet, soft voice, to make up for the less sweet, soft voice I had employed a few moments earlier. "No, Mommy," he replied in exasperation, "we're coloring."