Phew. Managed a few minutes on the computer in between going on errands with Dadz (he doesn't like to miss out on the fun and enjoys accompanying us all around Modi'in), shuttling Ariella to and from her practice (more on that later), and then, when I finally have a few minutes to update my Loyal Readers, I find that someone (don't want to name names; we'll just call them by their code names, "Bubby" and "Zaidy") is on my computer - checking email, forgetting to sign out of my Facebook accounts and then writing comments under my name (no, I did not comment on the picture of Leezy holding Amichai, "That's my baby holding her baby!"), "working" (aka trying to hack into our wireless network for use on an iPhone - an iPhone! In THIS house! The chutzpah!), or other sundry items involving sitting on my chair and complaining about the lack of mouse. But now, Dadz has gone to Sha'alvim with Cousin Menachem to relive his boyhood days, and Momz is shmoozing on the phone with someone, and here I am, updating.
Monday morning we all woke up bright and early to head over to Beit Shemesh for the brit of "Geraldo" Klein. We actually got to shul before davening even started. I think the last time I davened in shul for any appreciable amount of time other than the last bar of "A'anim Zemiros" was when I was waddling around sometime circa 2003. My children were amazingly good in shul - Ariella read quietly and Yaakov munched on Kinnamonim. (I would say that sums up our children pretty nicely.) Then it was bris time. Donny and I kvatered and I am happy to say that neither of us dropped the baby! Us lady-folk then crowded into the back of the men's section, and I snapped pictures like crazy. Crying, hugging, more pictures - an excellent bris, overall. We found out his name - Amichai Zion - and then headed down to the social hall to EAT!
On Tuesday, the 'rents moved into Casa de Rose, much to Ariella and Yaakov's delight. Zaidy and Yaakov worked on his (Yaakov's) Thomas puzzle. This took some time. Zaidy spent the better part of an hour with a scrunched up face, valiantly trying to put pieces together. "This connects here, Zaidy," Yaakov was overheard saying patiently, on more than one occasion. After Yaakov got bored and went to cut his trains, Zaidy continued to sit on the floor, grumbling and muttering under his breath. He, too, eventually gave up and went to cut trains with Yaakov.
Tomorrow is the groundbreaking ceremony for our shul. We currently daven in too-small, too-hot, too-crowded caravans, which during the week function as too-small, too-hot, too-crowded classrooms. Our new shul right now is a large tract of dirt. We are hopeful that sometime, soon, maybe even before we die, there will be a beautiful new shul erected on that dirt. Part of the shul's problem is that they're too nice about the whole money collection business. Donny told the head of the fundraising committee months ago that we wanted to donate money, niftshabbosgeret. We never heard from the guy. Donny had to chase after him for weeks in order to give money. Is this for real??? I mean, the RJC, which we haven't davened at in two years, still sends us bills for amounts in the many thousands. (We better pay up, or we'll never get seats there for Rosh Hashanah!) This is the American Way: We Never Stop Hounding You for Money, Even After You're Dead. (It's true; my grandfather, Jack Weintraub, alivashalom, passed away in 1995 yet continues to this day to receive solicitation letters from tzedakot. We keep telling him to pay up; so far, nothin'.)
Anyway, back to the ceremony. There are all sorts of boring politics in Modi'in about how shuls can get money from the city in order to build. So far, an on-the-ground assessment reveals most kehillot have not cracked the secret code, as they are all davening in school basements, bagel stores, and too-small caravans. But many important officials will be at this ceremony tomorrow night. Our kehilla wants to make sure we have a good showing; if the politicos see that this is a robust shul with many votes - ahem, I mean, members - they will push to get money for us. So emails have been sent out telling us to invite everyone we know - friends, family members, neighbors, pediatricians, Intense Lady Pharmacists, schnorrers, the guy that checks your trunk as you drive into the mall, the annoying cashier at Shufersal that wants to know WHY WON'T YOU SIGN UP FOR OUR CREDIT CARD, Daveed of Dimri, LISA - in a word, everyone. Momz and Dadz were very accommodating in this regard, as they timed their trip to coincide with this ceremony. So they will be joining us. (I'm still working on Daveed.) But, I haven't told you the highlight of this ceremony: There will be a dance routine performed by the children of the kehilla, starring none other than ARIELLA ROSE. The children, including ARIELLA ROSE, have been practicing their moves for two weeks.
(Digression Alert: In my book on child-rearing, "Leave Me Alone So I Can Read the Paper," there will certainly be a chapter entitled, "Your Child Does NOT Have Your Issues. Get Over It." To wit: At the first practice, I saw that none of Ariella's gan friends were there. I said to her nervously, "If kids your age don't come, you don't have to do this. We can just leave." She gave me a mystified look. "I want to do this, Mommy." Yeah, she's her own person.)
Anyway, the children, an example of whom is ARIELLA ROSE, need to wear all white to the production tomorrow. Another chapter in my book is entitlted, "Only Fools Buy White Clothes for Their Children," so you can imagine that other than the requisite white shirts that the kids need to wear every other day to gan, I was out, clothes-wise. Today, though, Dadz, Yaakov, and I went on a White Skirt Mission and were thankfully successful. We are all very excited to watch the performance tomorrow, especially the star dancer, ARIELLA ROSE.
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