Aliyah by Accident

An Un-Ideal Family

2012-01-24T21:04:00.000+02:00

Well, if you're wondering why the Roses have been walking around looking morose, it's because I just found out today that with the arrival of Nadav, our "harmonious family life" ranking plummeted from #2 to #8 (on a scale of 1-12).

That's right. According to a study conducted by Researchers, the second-happiest family type is one boy and one girl. Yaakov prevented us from reaching true nirvana by being male, as the ideal Happy Family has two girls.

And Loyal Readers, it could only get worse. At this point, additional children will send us spiraling ever downward. Another boy kicks us to #9. And a girl? Two boys and two girls place us at number eleven! Second to last! Only four girls would be worst!

Loyal Readers, I am glad I found out this information, because until today, I was mistakenly going through life thinking that girl+boy+boy was not too bad.

Also, I learned other useful stuff. Did you know that parents of 4 girls have to deal with things that are nowhere near the horizon of us parents-of-other-combos? Apparently, with four girls, "Bedtime routine is a nightmare." Definitely can't relate, here it's all rainbows and smiles and the occasional happy dance. Or, "Four girls create a lot of noise around the house." Nope, here it's perfectly quiet.

Wait a minute. It IS perfectly quiet. That means children are off somewhere performing Illegal Activities. This could be anything from "Rearranging the entire contents of our room" to "Fun with Toilets." Excuse me. I'll be right back.

Also, with four girls, it seems parents "Need a bigger car and house." Because parents of four boys just stuff them into the back of a sedan and sleep them head-to-toe on a cot.

So all in all, a very informative read. But Loyal Readers, fret not. Despite our less-than-optimal gender combo, we will sally forth. Congrats to all you high-rankers for keepin' it happy. And to your poor folks below even us, I say, Stay Strong!

We Check in With DADZ

2012-01-23T14:24:00.000+02:00

Shhh.... DADZ is napping.

It's been a busy couple of weeks for our favorite caps lock devotee. But DADZ has made some great Israeli strides since arriving:

1. He has a coffee name. We rejected "Ziv," Donny's alias, because DADZ pronounces it with a short "i" instead of a long "e." "Noam" was also rejected, because DADZ is not seven and the Baltimore "o" was killing it. We've decided on "Avi." An easy two syllables, no "r" or "o" in sight, just trips off the tongue.

2. He can get to and from the bank. This is due to the number of trips he and Momz have had to make to the bank, which you can read all about here. But still. It has helped his Modiin geographical skills greatly.

3. He has made friends with Nadav. M&D's room is the room formerly known as Nadav's room (Nadav is currently bunking with his sibs; it's just a regular snore-fest in there). On the 'rents' first night here, DADZ was lying down (naturally) on his bed. Nadav wandered into his room, saw his crib had been removed and there was a scary man sleeping in the bed. He ran out, shrieking, as fast as his wobbly body (Nadav, not Zaidy) would let him. However, since that moment, he has cautiously made friends with Zaidy. He realized Zaidy is excellent at some of his favorite games, like Climb on Couch, Hide Small Objects in Couch, Hand Things to Someone and Then They Hand Them Back, and Place Large Popcorn Bucket on Head. He even lets Zaidy hold him. Progress.

4. He bought Israeli clothing staples, including jeans, a fleece (both hooded and non-hooded) and Crocs.

5. He has learned to print things all by himself. DADZ is to technology what a one-armed gecko is to ballet dancing. Not a natural. But he has learned all about printing, tabs ("Now I can check my email AND look up something online at the same time!"), minimizing and even touch pads. He's getting closer. More like a two-armed gecko.

Things still to work on:

Must wean himself off his dependence on Suisse Mocha, a chemical-filled, coffee-flavored "drink" that he consumes by the bucket.

But really, KUDOS to DADZ on some great progress this month. CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

Harumph

2012-01-18T22:15:00.000+02:00

Things that are annoying me and taking up lots of time:

1. Cars. They are inefficient, money-sucking, dangerous hunks of metal and I vote we all just learn to fly. Yaakov will teach us.
The car in specific that is annoying me is the one (mine) that was making a special flapping noise. Which turned out to be not a herd of wild horses (as Yaakov conjectured), but the flattiest flattest tire you have ever seen. And then, when Donny tried to change the tire, he said he was missing some sort of metal turn-y piece that is necessary for getting the spare out. So then he called Triple Aleph, but when that guy came and I mentioned the missing piece, he said, "And am I so different than your husband? [Ed. note: What a very appropriate thought, on this week of Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday.] I also need that piece! It's supposed to come with the car! I will have to call a tow truck, but you'll need to drive out of your garage to meet him outside."

So then I had to drive my lopsided van outside, but luckily they didn't ask me to drive it onto the tow truck. Which is how I came to be driving beside a taciturn, be-earringed young man who towed me to the nearest "puncheria" to get a new tire.

Perhaps you, like me, thought that a car arriving at the puncheria on a tow truck is like a person arriving at the hospital in an ambulance. In that they would push all the other cars out of the way, STAT, because my car was so much more grieviously injured than theirs. But no. I had to wait my turn in line, just like all the other loser patients. However, 20 minutes and 600 shekel later, I drove out on a brand spanking new tire! It had gold wrapping, and a little piece stayed on. I'm keeping it there, to remind me of this special time.

The whole removal-and-replacement bit, with the electrical thingy (how I didn't make it as a mechanic, I'll never know) that pushes your car up reminded me uncomfortably of a gynecological exam and I felt bad for my poor car. Those tools can be cold.

2. The new apartment that is not yet mine. You could pollute an entire ecosystem with the amount of gas I use driving between my old apartment and my new apartment. This is because we are at the Price Quote stage of pre-moving in, and we require two Price Quotes per Thing. Things include, but are not limited to: Window bars, painting, alarm systems, shower doors, an alarm system for your shower door, shower bars on your alarm door, etc.
Which means meeting two different people per Thing. And none of the people I ever need to meet can come at the same time. So I drive over to get a Price Quote on a Thing, drive back, squeeze in some work and a load of laundry, and before you know it, it's time to drive back to get another Price Quote on another Thing.

3. Laundry and dishes and the dirt on my floor. I should just let them all win, since they seem to want to so badly.

So these things are keeing me very busy and not leaving much time for blogging. Which makes me sad, oh Loyal Readers. Plus--and you are never going to believe this one--despite the craziness of our lives right now, the children just go on needing things, like rides to chugim, baths, dinner, attention.

Well, hopefully this will end soon and we will get to move and our apartment will be beautiful, despite Yaakov not having his yellow-and-teal colored room.

On that note, I will end with a head-scratchingYaakov conversation:

Me: Did you play in the chatzer today? [This is a winter conversation. The chatzer is full of sand. During the sandal months, it doesn't matter because the sand slides right out. However, in the winter, it is crucial that we dump the copious amount of shoe sand into the garbage. Often I am surprised there was even room for his foot in the shoe.]

Yaakov: Why do you always ask that? Just ask me if there is sand in my shoes!

Next day:

Me: Yaakov, is there sand in your shoes?

Yaakov [expasperatedly]: I don't know! How should I know that?

Me [slow and confused]: Well...did you play...in the...chatzer today?

It's a twisty world Yaakov lives in.

Aliyah on Purpose, Momz and DADZ Style

2012-01-10T21:47:00.001+02:00

Because f/e asked so nicely, here is a picture from the big arrival moment at the airport last Wednesday. (No, they did not come on a Nefesh b'Nefesh flight, so we had to do all the singing ourselves!)

Unfortunately, the rest of my pictures are kind of blurry, which is apparently what happens when you try to take pictures as you're running around and jumping up and down.

But as this picture shows clearly, Ariella is veryveryveryveryveryvery happy to see her Bubby. In fact, we are all many-verys glad that Momz and DADZ are here to stay.

So for the past week Momz and DADZ have been doing a lot of running around, doing all those things new olim must do, like getting a teudat zehut, beginning step #1 of the never-ending license conversion process and exclaiming, "You call this a LARGE cup of coffee???"

Things have been going relatively smoothly, though DADZ, ever the Eeyore, is convinced it will all fall to pieces soon and they'll show up at the next misrad and the lady will screech, "We're closed today!" Or, "We're open but not for you!" Or, "Yes I know it says you can do that here but you can't actually! You'll need to visit our branch in Nahariyya! Which is only open on alternate Sundays between 7:00 and 7:23 AM, unless it's below 20 degrees (celsius, of course) in which case it's only opened on odd-numbered Tuesdays between 8:00 and 8:07! And remember you need to walk into the misrad backwards, singing Hava Nagila and wearing plaid!" Or, "What do you mean, you didn't bring your itemized list of underwear??? It needs to be signed by your rabbi and stamped by the bank!!"

So far, that has not happened. THANK GOD. But there's always tomorrow.

(However, there's the very tiny glitch that we were supposed to have moved in to our respective apartments already, but we haven't, and this is causing no small amount of stress and if you have a horror story about a kablan I do NOT want to hear it now. Thank you.)

To be continued...

I'm Still Here!

2012-01-02T15:02:00.001+02:00

Loyal Readers, my humblest apologies.

Who knew that having the kids home all week for Chanukah, followed by substituting at a school for 4 days, combined with crazy last-minute apartment business, trying to find a gan for Nadav for next year, and getting ready for my parents' immiment aliyah (Wednesday) would be so time-consuming and leave so little time for blogging???!! Certainly not me.

I will return shortly with a much overdue post on all the goings-on of our lives, such as answering last-minute aliyah questions, ("Will we need gloves?"), discussing what exactly are Finn McMissile's (of Cars 2, the children's current obsession) 12 superpowers, (we're not sure who decided there were 12, but Yaakov will not rest until we can list every single one), and the results of Nadav's groundbreaking research into "Will this bowl of yogurt fit on my head?" (Short answer: Yes)

Stay tuned.

The Trouble with Tongues

2011-12-19T13:31:00.005+02:00

So Ariella has started doing my butcher orders.

Let me be clear - despite my lack of proficiency with the language of our forefathers, I can manage our weekly order. Mainly because there are no numbers above "400."

Ariella enjoys reciting the order along with me (she's memorized it, since I order the same exact thing every week), and one day, she asked if she could place the order. So I let her. The butcher laughed (nicely) when she got on the phone, so I quickly took the phone and told him, "This is my daughter, and I approve this order."

She did a great job.

And the best part - when she asked for "שריר," she didn't have to repeat herself! See, those double-reish words get me every time. And I have to try to rrrrroll them, because I noticed that they understand me better if I do, even though I think I sound like a cross between an aged cat choking up a hairball and Inigo Montoya.

Somehow, that's still better than just saying it with two American "r's." Even so, it usually needs a second take. "Shrrrreeerrrrr," I say, more adamantly, because everyone knows adamant=clarity.

But this whole being out-ordered by my 8-year-old just underscores the different worlds we live in. Us old folks will always be immigrants, no matter how much shoko b'sakit we drink. (Case in point: Transliterating Hebrew words, which I just did, is something Ariella thinks is the height of hilarity. "Oh so you're writing the Hebrew words in English letters! Hahahahahaha!") We could bathe in the stuff (the shoko, keep up), but we'll still be immigrants. But our children, even the two who are technically immigrants, already belong here in ways we never will.

Our children will experience things--army, obviously, sticks out in my mind--that we never did, and we won't be able to offer sage advice or wisdom. (Although I imagine, "Change your underwear with some regularity" and "Be nice to the secretary" holds true in many situations.)

But you know, it's a sacrifice for the next generation. Ariella and her children will all be able to roll their reishes together in perfect unison. They'll probably do it every night at dinner. She will be much more useful in guiding them through their post-high school experiences, though naturally, she won't be able to share with them details of her service in the top-secret intelligence unit.

However, she may have considerably less to blog about.

On that note, I would like to wish all my Loyal Readers a verr[cough, cough, sputter]rrrrry happy Chanukah, and to paraphrase my favorite vengeance-filled, fencing Spaniard, "Prepare to fry."

מספרים

2011-12-13T21:34:00.000+02:00

That's numbers, people.

Today I reached a big milestone in my absorption. I said the number 7,500 in Hebrew. And I think I even got it right.

Every oleh has absorption goals. Some people want to "Drink Turkish coffee out of those tiny, tiny cups" or "Blithely wear t-shirts with inappropriate sayings because you don't realize they're inappropriate" or "Serve dinner to children at 8 PM (instead of getting ready to herd them into bed at that time so you can collapse on the couch I mean clean up.)"

For this year, I chose the lofty goal of "Writing checks in Hebrew." Until now, I took the easy way out and just wrote all my checks in English, because anything with four digits or more stumped me. But, I told myself, you are Israeli now. You must do as the Israelis do: Go to Eilat for Chanukah.

No, no, not THAT. We're talking about numbers. Pay attention, please?

Right. So I decided that this year, I would work on my Israeliness through numbers. Unfortunately, my go-to pal Google Translate is of no use here. Type in "1,465" in English, and it helpfully spits back, "1,465" in Hebrew.

But I will do it. And in fact, at the bank today, I did NOT need to say "elef PLOOSE elef PLOOSE elef PLOOSE elef PLOOSE elef PLOOSE elef PLOOSE elef. V'od chamesh mayot."

Yay me!

Next on the list:

Answering the phone with, "Ahh-lan!"

Ramblings: Nadav Edition

2011-12-05T20:26:00.001+02:00

Let me tell you how things are really going down.

First off, Mommy is STILL bringing me to this "gan" place. Every. Single. Day. And she is STILL leaving me there. Doesn't she hear my heartbreaking little cries as she callously passes me off to a ganenet, like I'm just some sobbing sack of potatoes? (Do sacks of potatoes sob? Discuss.)

But it's okay, after a minute of crying, I get a cookie and then all is better. And to tell the truth, I have a pretty good day. First, they have waaaay better toys than at home. Example: At home, we have a few lame plastic animals. You've got your standard horse, sheep, alligator and space rocket. But at gan! The animals! There's a whole freakin' BUCKET of them! And the food - let me tell you, these ganenet types know their way around the kitchen. Such variety! At home, it's a lot of the same-old, same-old, from the food group known as Lazy. Gee, Mom, you know how to make both pancakes AND French toast? Someone get this lady a cooking blog! NOT!

So gan is all right, though I still don't understand why Mommy wants to bring me there instead of hanging out with me all day.

Anyway, she is still complaining that I do not talk enough. Again, I say: I completely understand everything I am saying. And yes, I call both Ariella and Yaakov "Lala." Is it MY fault the parental units chose to give them each different names? I didn't think so.

Although Mommy is impressed that I now understand directions. Sometimes it's "Throw that out," or "Bring me your shoes," or "Go find Ariella," (I'm never sure the purpose of this one. I think it's just to get me out of the room.) But mostly it's "Take that out of your mouth!" and "Don't swish your hands in the toilet!"

Sometimes, when I'm in my groove, having an especially good jam session of Pot Top Banging, Mommy will shout (she has to shout, see, 'cuz of the Pot Top Banging) "Please stoooopppppp!!!" Luckily, I just pretend I don't understand that one yet.

Also - weird - Daddy seems to be gone. One day he's here, next day, poof, nowhere in sight. Every so often, I hear his voice and I run, shrieking "Addy! Addy!" But then one of the Lalas just sticks the phone in my face and says, "Say hi to Daddy!" And I hear him, right? But I don't SEE him. This confuses me. How did he fit in the phone? And are there people hiding in all the phones? Maybe I should just lie down on Mommy for a while and suck my fingers while I ponder this.

In Which My Complete Lack of Directional Abilities Gets Me in Trouble, Once Again

2011-11-28T09:45:00.001+02:00

Last week, I had to spend all day at a mall. Yes, had to. As part of our never-ending campaign to get our life back together after The Case of the Missing Purse (Where is Cam when you need her?), I had to take our car to the dealership in Ranaana to get the locks changed. We had two options, locks-wise:

1. Spend a lot of money to get the Immoblizer changed, so the thief could open the car, but have no way of starting it.
2. Spend a lot MORE money and completely change the entire internal structure of the car, including locks and ignition.

The idea of someone being able to open my car was less than pleasing. Also, I keep important stuff in there. Our Chanukah CD. My Rami Levi bags. Kids, sometimes. So we decided to go with Option More Money.

This also involved staying in Ranaana all day, since it took a few hours to completely change everything. There is a decent mall right across the street from the garage (decent = kosher cafe with WiFi; I am easy to please), so at the beginning, all was both hunky and dory. I sat at Greg's, I worked, I drank coffee. Once we had passed hour five, though I was starting to go a little nuts. I walked around, but every time I entered a store, this annoying little goody-two-shoes voice said, "Really? You're going to spend money on clothing when you have to spend nearly 3,000 shekel fixing your car?" and then I walked out again, leaving a trail of disappointed sales clerks in my wake. So I just walked and wandered, up escalators and down escalators, until I began to feel like I was in some sort of bad New Age movie about the evils of commercialism.

Finally, I was released with my new(ish) car at 4:00. And that's where the trouble began. (Though you would not be wrong to say, "continued.")

See, in Israel, you need to have basic knowledge of geography to get where you need to go. There's no "Route 4 North" and "Route 4 South." There's "Route 4 Haifa" and "Route 4 Ashdod." And you need to know that Haifa is northerly and Ashdod is southerly. I'm good with the basics. I know the ups from the downs.

The problem is the middle. In my head, the entire Merkaz is somewhat mushed. Tel Aviv, Ranaana, Petah Tikva, Herziliyah, the airport, Modiin - they are all more or less "there" (pointing to the center.)

I had looked carefully at the map and wrote down directions before I left, but before I knew it, I was faced with a choice: Route 5 Tel Aviv or Route 5 Petah Tikva. My eventual goal was to get to Route 6.

Based on the whole reversing your previous route process, I was pretty sure I wanted "Petah Tikva." But I wasn't sure. And, as you now understand, in my mind Tel Aviv and Petah Tikvah are basically the same. Confusing me even further is my motto: When trying to go toward Modiin, follow signs to Tel Aviv. Except if you're at Ben-Gurion. (Of course, that motto works much better when your choices are "Haifa" or "Tel Aviv.")

So despite every fiber of my being telling to go toward Petah Tikva, I somehow found myself curving inexorably toward Tel Aviv. Yep, wrong way, as I veered off the exit ramp and saw the sign "Route 5 to Route 6" just out of reach. I thought, okay, no big deal, I'll just turn around. I rolled down my window and asked someone which way to Route 6. She looked at me as if I had asked her where the nearest crop circles are.

In the end, after much panicking and driving aimlessly, I ended up on the Ayalon, which thank goodness uses directional words like "south." After sitting in traffic for an hour, I finally made it back to Modiin (it's in the Merkaz; kind of near Tel Aviv).

Maybe it's time for a GPS. Do they make ones that attach to your wrist? That would be super helpful in the mall parking lot. ("To get back to your car, turn Left. Now turn. Right.")

A Meta Moment with Ariella

2011-11-20T15:30:00.001+02:00

Ariella was home today, on the (hopefully) final day of her unfortunately-it's-not-strep-illness. Luckily she was feeling up to running some errands with me, including but not limited to: The Mall, library, the Devil's Own Playground (aka post office), the bank and Rami Levi. While driving, she spotted this billboard:

קוטג' עם גינה ענקית (cottage with huge garden)

"I don't understand. Why would they give you a huge garden when you buy a box of cottage cheese? And where would you even put the garden?"

After I explained it was referring to real estate, not dairy products, we had a good laugh, and then Ariella helpfully suggested: "You could write about that now on Facebook."

Well, a bit too long for Facebook, but she's on the right track.

Things Improve

2011-11-17T11:04:00.001+02:00

Well, this week has been a big improvement on last week. I mean, it wouldn't have taken much, ("Hey, there was no theft or anesthesia! Let's celebrate!") but all in all things are on the up and up, by the by.

To all the Loyal Readers who shared their stories with us: You have had some truly outstandingly awful things that happened to you. And I thank you for sharing them with us, though I am very sorry that such truly outstandingly awful things happened to you.

A recap of the week:

1. Sunday: Replaced Maccabi cards, because let's face it, those are the #1 most important things in my wallet. It is approximately a hijillion times more likely that a child will end up in the doctor's office than the IDF soldiers at the machsom will ask for my teudat zehut. Although, I did have my Israeli passport, so at least there was photographic evidence that I am who I say I am.

2. Sunday night: Kids are superjazzed because new Maccabi cards are sparkly gold, instead of boring blue.

3. Monday: Accompanied by my faithful sidekick, Donny, went to Ramle (Note: Very important that your children do not put an extra syllable between the "m" and the "l.") Waited in line for about 45 minutes at the Misrad Hapnim, but once it was (finally - we were 85 and waited from 63) my turn, it went quickly. I handed over my Israeli passport, two passport photos, a completed form and a photocopy of my passport. ("את מסודרת!" she complimented me.) Within minutes, I had a brand new TZ, sefach (the addendum that proves that the children are mine, even when they're throwing temper tantrums and food) and nifty blue carrying case. I was kind of hoping for sparkly gold, but I guess you can't have everything.

3. Monday, a little later: In the same building as the Misrad Hapnim is Misrad HaRishui, where you can get a new license. I showed her my brand-spanking-new TZ and explained I needed a new license. She asked me if I wanted to pay by phone or not - apparently it was half the price to pay by phone. I said, fer sher by phone. She replied: So fine, go to the back, call this number on your phone, and pay, what are you bothering me for?
How silly of me to think we could do this now, while I'm here in front of you! Went to the back, paid for my new license, then waited for Our Lady of the Licenses to finish with the next lucky customer, and once we told her we paid, she printed off a new temporary license for me. Whew.

4. Monday, even later: Bought myself a new wallet. It's black and red.

5. Tuesday: Got my new Isracard, picked up new bank card, and got the locks changed. We had sort of been shuffling our feet on the changing the locks thing because we're still not really sure the purse was stolen, and since we're moving in a month, it's kind of a waste of money. But after coming home every day for a week wondering if we had been wiped out of all of our worldly belongings, we decided it was worth the money.

So all that's left is getting spare car keys. And a new purse, of course, but in the meantime I'm using an old one that I had donated to the Beit Malon Game. In other news, Nadav is recovering nicely from his surgery. Good mom that I am, I was totally ready to send him to gan last Friday (day after the surgery), because, hey, no fever! but Donny decided that his completely swollen shut eye ("You shoulda seen the other guy") meant he got another day at home. But he's been back in action this week, grunting his way happily through life.

A Series of Crappy Events

2011-11-11T09:54:00.001+02:00

Well, Loyal Readers, you may be wondering if I have abandoned you. Indeed not. For you are the Loyalest of Readers, and I appreciate your recent outpouring of support and sympathy for those of faced with the curse of the Uncleanable House.

This week has received the dubious award of the Crappity Week of Craptastic Crappiness in the Crap-istory of Craphood. Unfortunately, it is not yet funny, so the extended blog post will have to wait for a time when I can laugh rather than cry. Some high(?)lights:

1. Nadav's surgery (planned, but still), to remove a cyst near his eye, which involved two separate days at the hospital, one being a "Yom Kabbalah" during which we got yelled at by a nurse and waited in a crowded, windowless room for hours, and one being the actual day of the surgery, the morning of which I nearly got lost and ended up in east Jerusalem. Thank God the surgery went well. Actual time spent at hospital: 11 hours. Actual time in surgery: 30 minutes.

2. My pocketbook, and all contents therein, was either lost in or stolen from my apartment. Including, but not limited to: wallet, teudat zehut, license, credit/bank cards, cash, undeposited checks, Maccabi cards, various store cards, including Rami Levi, (and you just KNOW it's going to be a b*&#%ch to get them to grant me another one), an old (only sentimental, but still) picture of Donny and me when we were engaged, keys, including house, car keys for two different cars, machsan, building, mail and this cute little keychain device that you use for shopping carts instead of scrambling for a 5-shekel piece.

3. It turns out the convenient Misrad Hapnim in Modiin will not, in fact, issue a new teudat zehut if yours was stolen. That, naturally, requires a trip to a different city. Which I haven't been able to do, since I've been spending 11 hours at a hospital.

4. We are also having two seminary girls for Shabbat, which is not crappy at all, just the opposite, but I worried (earlier in the week, before my life took a dive to Craptown) that when you're in seminary, your Shabbat experiences are supposed to be "chavayot," where you see how people live in the Holy Land and learn all sorts of stuff and get inspired and all. I feel bad in advance that these lovely young ladies will be here, in Modiin, a city which I love but, let's face it, is kind of vanilla, in our less-than-inspirational house, filled not as much with kedusha and role models as it is with Legos and socks.

In the meantime, Loyal Readers, feel free to share stories about how you once lost something. If it could be worse than my story, that would be great. Thanks.

The Soul-Crushing Burden of Housecleaning

2011-11-03T21:55:00.001+02:00

Dramatic title, no?

But it only reflects my deepest feelings, my utter contempt and hatred of (constantly) cleaning my house (in this case, "constantly" means over and over and over again. And again.)

At least several times a day, I begin sentences with, "But didn't I just_____??!!" (wash the floor, wipe down the counters, sweep Nadav's cereal trail, do dishes, pick a kippah up off the floor.)

For example, I washed the floor yesterday. Approximately 2.5 hours later, it looked like Pompeii swept through.

I despair.

And I despair even more when I realize that there are people who somehow manage not to live in constant muck and filth and cups! (Oh cups, you kill me! How are there so many of you? How??? HOW???)

Once, I had to get a key from someone in the building. It was a Thursday afternoon. I stopped by, in the middle of the day. This is a woman with a passle of little kids, who was also pregnant at the time, and during my random drop-in, I noticed that her house. Was. Spotless. On a Thursday! A Thursday! By Thursdays, I've given up and played the "It'll get cleaned on Friday" card. Okay, sometimes I start playing that card on Tuesday.

But not this superwoman. Clean floors, empty counters, clean floors, clear table, clean floors. And clean floors.

How does she do it?

I would venture that perhaps she has a community of houselves working for her. Obviously, though, that is ridiculous.

Everyone knows they were freed in Book 7.

What is her secret? Does she stash her kids in the machsan and do her cooking at a neighbor's? Has her family learned how to hover, so that dusty little feet don't mingle with the drops of water that are on the floor because family members WILL fling their wet hands all over the place while looking for a towel, which is, of course, right in front of them? And of course, you know what happens when you mix dust and water. You get a Very Unhappy Mama.

To lessen the soul-crushingness of it all, I try to squeeze in as much straightening up and cleaning as I can while the kids are still up - I know, it's like trying to sop up Niagara Falls with an Israeli paper towel, but still - because if I reenter the kitchen after doing the bedtime jig and see a sink full of dishes and aruchat eser boxes that need filling, and all I really want to do is sit down and write a blog post where I complain about cleaning, well, I may just have to curl up in a fetal position on the floor...no, wait, it's filthy....on the sofa....whoops, covered in tissues and Uno cards and ouch, a library book (Digression: Uno goes MUCH faster when you are missing half the cards)....maybe on my bed....no, not there, covered in unfolded mounds of laundry....

So you see the reasons for my despair. Can't even find a place to curl up and despair.

Oh well. Guess I'll just go wash a cup.

Calling the Teacher: Resolution

2011-10-31T19:52:00.002+02:00

Well, I had already packed up my tent and signs and was heading out to protest in front of the teacher's house, when Ariella came home with some good news: She is going to be in the advanced math class!

[Applause pause]

When I ran into the teacher (totally by accident, I swear, and no one got hurt)yesterday, she told me she was finalizing the details of the advanced chug and would be in touch with me. Today, Ariella showed me the note explaining all the details of the chug, including the books I need to buy (naturally) (and before Wednesday.) Basically, this group of 4 kids gets five hours of advanced math per week: they join the 4th grade math class for 3 periods, there is one period of enrichment just for them, and then one hour when they are in their regular math class but doing the fourth grade work.

The teacher told Ariella that in the meantime, she should work on finishing this year's math book. She also told her that they would evaluate and see if she can keep up with the workload. Considering that Ariella came home and has been sitting at the table for 3 hours speeding through the pages, I'm not so worried.

Obviously, we're rull happee that she so smarty.

But what I'm even super-prouder about is how Ariella made this happen for herself. She discussed with me that she noticed kids doing different math work and she wanted to be in that group, she approached the teacher on her own, and only when the initial response was no did I need to step in and give a little kick in the denim skirt.

So though it has been a while since I've awarded kappayim and poofahs, I would like to give both to my very smart, independent, fearless, go-getter daughter, Ariella.

Calling the Teacher: An Update

2011-10-29T19:54:00.003+02:00

Thanks to all of our concerned Loyal Readers who are anxiously awaiting the result of my phone call.

I called twice, at the very teacher-appropriate hour of 9:30ish. The phone rang, and then made weird fax noises. I called again, a few minutes later. Same result. Momz suggested perhaps the teacher didn't want to talk to me and made the weird fax noises herself. If so, she should totally get a starring role in the revival of Police Academy.

So I sat down to write an email. Yes, the same email I could have written at 8:30 when my mind was much less foggy, and the words I needed could have floated right to the top rather than sinking into the quicksand of my tired brain.

Anyway, I heard nothing on Thursday, but on Friday Ariella returned from school with a note in her planner from the teacher. Basically: I read your email, I'll look into it and get back to you.

So, success? Unclear. But rest assured, Loyal Readers, I will continue to keep you updated on the saga of Ariella Rose and the Advanced Math Class.

Calling the Teacher

2011-10-26T20:54:00.003+02:00

Well, here I am, exhausted, but waiting up because you can only call teachers in Israel at ungodly hours. So even though I would like to go to sleep (yes, I realize it's only 9:00, but my day feels like it started last month, so I am ready to end it), I am waiting up to call. The last time I asked what time to call her, she said after 9:30. I think I'm going to forget she said that and call soon, because the later it gets, the more and more worser my Hebrew gets. Also my English.

Will you wait with me?

Great, thanks.

Oh, you want to know why I'm calling the teacher.

Let me brag for a moment.

Ariella is a very good math student. This confundles me, because I HATED math as a child. (Though, as it turns out, I love teaching it.) I still remember standing up at the board in fifth grade, attempting to do a long division problem and completely freezing, then crying (of course) and shuffling back to my seat.

Digression: What is up with long division anyway? When else do we go out of our way to teach someone the LONG way to do something?

"You can walk to school by cutting through this street and down those stairs. But INSTEAD, I'm going to show you how to walk down the street, around the traffic circle, up the block to where the bus stop is, wait there five minutes, no reason, now go up the hill, back down the hill, and now you're there! With a remainder of 3."

ANYWAY, not only is Ariella good at math, she actually enjoys, nay, LOVES it. They got this extra little math workbook, which she claimed she didn't need for class and could just do on her own. She finished the entire book in about 3 weeks. In the bath, she decided to add 24+24 and keep doubling the answers till she got to about 4,000-something. I was struggling to keep one step ahead of her so when she computed the answer and asked, "Right Mommy?" I would have an answer, though I really would have appreciated a few hundred people and their fingers.

So she came home yesterday and told me there is a group in her class of math "mitkadmim" (advanced) students, who do different work. She went, all on her own, to talk to the teacher about joining.

The answer, effectively, was no. Apparently these children got to be in the advanced group because they finished some workbook last year, in second grade. Ariella, by not being in this school last year, could not have completed said workbook. Therefore, she was deemed ineligible.

She very reasonably offered to complete the workbook on her own time. Strangely, the answer was still no. She is now frustrated. I said I would call the teacher and find out what's going on, since I only know the 8-year-old version.

For the record, I do not relish being the "My child is smart! You must challenge her!" parent. However, I must put my personal whoojies* aside (*see: Worser English when I am tired) and call the teacher. And discuss this. In Hebrew. Even though I am tired.

And now it is 9:15. I motion it is late enough to call. Anyone second that?

Perfect, thanks. And thanks for keeping me company.

Sukkot Ramblings

2011-10-20T20:19:00.007+02:00

11 days since a post! My goodness, I'm surprised I haven't been let go from my position as Grandmaster Chief Executive Head Blogger.

Well, okay, I guess I'll give myself a second chance. But I'm docking myself two vacation days. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm giving myself an extra three.

In any case, here is a Sukkot Roundup. In no particular order...

1. Nadav continues his Pot Torturing Campaign, in which he flings innocent pots from their hiding place in the cabinet and beheads them, throwing their tops into the garbage can.

2. I'm sure you are wondering, "Are Ariella and Yaakov still playing the Bet Malon game?" Well, glad you asked. For indeed, they are! This game is in its 3rd month, I believe. Every few weeks Yaakov pipes up and asks, "Awiella, aww we still playing the bet malon game?" And Ariella replies in the affirmative.

Today the game was played with serious devotion and intensity. In fact, 5 hours after chag ended, they are STILL going at it. I'm not exactly sure what it entails, but it's an elaborate make-believe game in which they play together for HOURS. And, here's the most important part, they DO NOT FIGHT. Tonight, Ariella and Yaakov's babies were asleep, so they had to tiptoe into their room to get stuff.

(Parenting SCORE: I overheard them saying they couldn't use the baby yet, since it was only their wedding day and you can't have babies before you are married.
Parenting FAIL: They were marrying each other. Well, at least we like the mechutanim.)

3. Donny was honored with Chatan Torah in our shul today. This completes Donny's personal Triple Crown:
Twice Chatan Breishit (at 2 different shuls)
Twice Chatan Maftir, If You Count That (this was at the same shul because they forgot they gave it to him the year before)
Once Chatan Torah

The trick is to find shuls that have no baalei kriah and layn pretty much every other week.

4. We visited three national parks over the holiday: Mearat Hanetifim (stalactite caves), Tel Be'er Sheva, where we saw the actual well dug by Avraham Avinu, and Park Eshkol, a random find on our map that had little wading areas and a big playground. A win! Plus ice cream! Double win!

Although: Nadav refused to eat the ice cream in a cup which I buy for him, on account of it being easy to feed to him. And instead insisted on something on a stick, like the big kids have. By the end of his first real artik experience, you could pretty much put Nadav on a stick and lick him.

5. We have now visited 25 out of the total 61 national parks in Israel. I know, this embarrasses us as well. We may need to take the children out of school for a week during the winter and just knock out all of the southern parks.

A Yom Kippur Cinderella

2011-10-09T20:40:00.005+02:00

Scene: Yom Kippur afternoon, about 45 minutes left to go.

I am on the couch, trying to move as little as possible. Children decide it's time for Beauty Parlor using plastic utensils from our extensive set of kitchen toys.

Ariella yanks the hair on the right side of my head into a pony. Yaakov carefully works the left side of my hair with a carving knife.

"Do you think it's too short, Ariella?" he asks, applying a second coating of spatula.

"No, I think it's good." Yank.

Yaakov dips the fork into the teapot to get it wet before gently combing it through.

"Are you going to the party to see who is the beautest to marry the prince?" he inquires.

I teach my children early on that good looks can get you far.

"Yes. Is Daddy the prince?"

"No, Mommy," replies Ariella - yank - "he's just a regular Yisrael."

Nadav wanders over every so often and shoves a fork into my mouth as far as it will go. When it begins to activate the gag reflex, I gently remove it.

After applying just a dollop of butter knife, Yaakov declares me fit for the ball.

And now we're down to 15 minutes! Fast is almost over AND I'm looking smokin' to boot. Thanks, kids.

Kashrut Revisited

2011-10-03T14:27:00.003+02:00

Donny's paternal grandfather (A"H) had a saying that he passed on to his grandchildren.

When you're dating a girl that you want to marry, you have to ask three important questions:

"One: Will she keep a kosher home?
Two: Will she send her children to a Jewish day school?
Three: And I forgot the last one."

Luckily, I passed the test and so was allowed in to the family. I used to think this was just a cute grandfatherly thing, until I had my own son.

And now I realize the importance of making sure your son marries someone who will keep a kosher home: It's because sons (a sweeping generalization based on my own child) have no inkling as to "kashrut."

One of my small accomplishments as a parent is that my children put their bowls and plates (but not the good Shabbat china - no! Stop carrying it with one hand! I'll do it for you!) in the sink. Yes, they may fight like rabid ferrets and when they occasionally say "That was good, Mom!" there's a smidge too much surprise in their voices, but I have managed this one tiny victory.

Yaakov has divided the sinks up thusly: Cereal Sink and Not Cereal Sink. And it constantly amazes me how he hasn't yet managed to figure out dairy/chalavi vs meat/besari.

"Where should I put this yogurt spoon?"

"Cereal sink, Yaakov." (Have you noticed that the yogurt spoon looks suspiciously like the cereal one???)

"Which sink should I put this bowl of chicken soup in?" (You know, the bowl that has actual bits of chicken still in it?)

"Which one do you think, Yaakov?"

"Um, cereal?" (Must be the bowl-bowl gezerat shava).

He never has a clue. I've tried to explain it to him, but while he can understand complex intricacies of "Ratatouille" and "Kung Fu Panda" on a level most of didn't even know existed, comprehending that "yogurt" "cheese" and "milk" are all from the same family, and this family is diametrically opposed to the "chicken" and "hot dog" family, seems to be beyond his capabilities.

So, future Mrs. Yaakov Rose, you will surely fall in love with his charming good looks and sensitive soul. And trust me, you will experience Movie Night like no one else. But for your own sanity, you may want to label your kitchen "cereal" and "not cereal."

In Which the Children Rally and Ask Questions

2011-09-26T13:01:00.004+03:00

(I know, I know, a post two days in a row, what can I say, I have a lot on my mind. Need to clear space for other things, like remembering why I'm standing in front of an open freezer with a vegetable knife. Blog = Pensieve for muggles.)
**************************************

If my children ran the world...

Well, HOP would run 24/7 and there would be an endless supply of Minheret Hazman books and no one would get anything more or less than anyone else, but also....

I took the kids to the rally last night in Bet Shemesh. (Donny valiantly tried to join us, but the traffic was too much even for him.) For those of you not in the know, you can read about it here, and a little background here, 'cuz I'm too lazy to summarize.

The unfortunate situation naturally elicited many questions and comments from my children. Ariella was in the know already, having made a card for the girls of Orot a few weeks ago.

A round-up of their comments/questions:

"They are going against their own dat (religion) by being mean to other people." (Ariella)

"Don't they know מה ששנאו עליך אל תעשה לחבריך?" (Yaakov. What you don't like, don't do to other people. Normally Yaakov understands this to mean if Ariella hits him, he can hit her back, but I think last night he understood its deeper meaning.)

"The mishtarah (police) should just put the chareidim in the keleh (jail)." (Yaakov, like you didn't know that already.)

"But the girls are dressed tzniut!" (Ariella)

"The girls should wear long sleeves. This way, bees won't sting them." (Take a wild guess.)

"Can I play Angwy Bawds?" (Yaakov's all for justice - trust me - but the excitement of the rally didn't last long.)

"Where did they get the poop from?" (Ariella, after it was suggested we move to a different part of the street, because the sidewalk had been (deliberately) covered in excrement. "Maybe from the dogs," I said vaguely, because any other option was too disgusting to contemplate.)

So it really is a shame that Ariella and Yaakov aren't in charge of the situation. Ariella would simply explain they are going against Torah, Yaakov would throw them all in jail, and no one would get stung by a bee.

Anyway, I think it was a positive thing that we went and brought the kiddies. Also, the headline today in the Jerusalem Post stating that "1500 people showed up for the rally" sounded so much better than if it were, "1,496 people showed up for the rally."

Beginnings: Not All They're Cracked Up To Be

2011-09-24T22:20:00.004+03:00

So the truth has come out.

After the novelty - new school! new books! new school supplies that aren't lost, dried out or stubby! - wore off, Ariella has realized that starting over is hard. (Especially when your BFF is in another school.)

Every day when I pick her up, she comes to the car with a droopy head and a sign: "Bad day." Or sometimes, "Sooper bad day." No one played with her at recess, someone was mean, one of the Very Annoying Boys pinched her. (Planted as we are very firmly in the she-woman boy hater's stage of life, the male members of her class are divided thusly: Very Annoying Boys and Slightly Less Annoying Boys.)

Of course, this just tore at my poor little heart. My baby is sad! Time for SuperMom to put on her cape and protect her little girl! I will banish the mean children to the Evil Planet of Zorkon, where there is no chocolate spread, where there's always a birthday party but it's never yours!

So I sprang into action. Called the teacher, who was very sweet and said she would make time to talk to Ariella.

Made playdates. She got the numbers of two girls in the class she was friendly with. Now I'm used to the whole Israeli-style call-for-a-playdate-at-3:30-and-Nahar-is-at-your-doorstep-at-3:35. But we’re in Angloland now, where you have to schedule playdates at least a week in advance. One is still in the planning stages.

Desperately threw money at the problem. Ariella mentioned that the Rinat Yisrael siddur she has is different than the Rinat Yisrael siddur the kids at school have. Plus, after a year and a half of loving use, her siddur is sadly in disrepair. She spent many an hour last year sitting at the dining room table, taping up the ripped and fraying pages.

I eagerly jumped at the chance to buy my child's happiness. "Yes! A new siddur is exactly what you need! Then you'll have lots of friends and everyone will play with you at recess and you will be happy again and I won't feel guilty!"

So we went to the bookstore. I wasn't totally sure what made the new siddur different than the one she already had. But Ariella had done some sleuth investigative work. "Do you have the Rinat Yisrael siddur with 649 pages?" she asked the employee.

Sure enough, he brought one down. She checked the pages - 649 - and we happily walked out with our purchase.

She then mentioned she wants to play "goomi" (Chinese jump rope) at recess but can't find her rope. So I ran (drove) to the store as fast as my little feet (big car) could carry me. Plunked down 15 shekel for some underwear elastic. (Digression: I learned last year that you do not buy your goomi at the toy store, but at the hardware store, tie it in a knot, and bam — instant jumprope.)

Still, despite the 649-page, tape-free siddur and a large piece of undies, she was STILL not happy. "I ask kids to play with me and they say no and then five minutes later I see them playing with someone else." Just drive the screw in a little harder...twist it...yep, that's it.

Then I remembered the advice of my old administrator. (SAR peeps, tell Milly I said thanks.) She always advised parents of new kids to come in with some fabulous snack, as sort of an ice-breaker. Kids like food, so if you're the kid with the awesome snacks, BINGO, you've got friends.

Now, here, they sort of frown on bringing in junk food, since kids are supposed to bring a healthy aruchat eser. And I didn’t think sending in a giant vat of tuna sandwiches was going to win her any friends.

So we went to the toy store. I told her she could pick some funky markers, a couple decks of cards, etc. to play with during recess. Surely the kid with the cool gel pens would attract some friends.

And...

She came back from school the next day: "Mommy, you're a kosemet (magician)! It worked! I had a good day!"

All together now....AWWWWW!

And she even made a shanah tovah card for me with her cool gel pens.

Those pens are awesome. Hmmm, I wonder if Ariella will play with me at recess...

Overheard at the Roses....

2011-09-20T19:04:00.003+03:00

"Stop hitting your brother on the head!"
Which wouldn't be so remarkable, except it's directed at the 16-month-old.

"Don't drink tushy water!"
Because really, what is bathwater, anyway?

"Stop reading!"
If Ariella was a Looney Toon, she would be reading her book and walk right off the cliff, plummet 1,000 feet, be momentarily covered in a dirt cloud, then dust herself off and continue walking. Without ever taking her eyes off her book.

"Na-DUH-UHV!"

"Mommy! The kvutzot are in this book!"
At Yaakov's gan, the children are divided into groups. Each group has the name of one of the Hebrew vowels. Yaakov was amazed to discover all of the groups congregated together in one of Ariella's books.

[7 a.m.] "What's for dinner?" Answer is followed by: "Oh."

"Brother Car!"
Yaakov and I enjoy finding other Mitsubishi Grandises (Granden?) on the road and shouting this aloud in exictement. Also: "Twin Brother Car!" when the fellow Grandis is also white.

Loyal Readers, what are YOUR soundbytes?

Yaakov the Turtle: Now, With the Answers You've All Been Waiting For!

2011-09-13T12:34:00.002+03:00

Yaakov is a man of few words. He is from the "What did you do today nothing who did you play with no one" school of thought. So it is very hard to get any information out of him. I drop him off at gan in the morning, I pick him up in the afternoon; what goes on in between is anyone's guess.

There are clues, sometimes. I know he plays outside because his shoes are filled with about two inches of sand every day. I can deduce the days they had playdough or clay because his fingernails are black and green.

I try to ask specific questions. "Did the ganenet read a story today?" But perhaps he attends the Mossad gan, because he often answers, "I don't want to tell you." Sometimes he comes home with a sticker on his shirt. "What's that sticker for, Yaakov?" I ask excitedly. "Singing," he replies vaguely.

He's also made some new friends this year, although he doesn't know their names. ("I keep fawgetting to ask them!") But every once in a while, we'll be talking about something, and all of a sudden something will click and the turtle will emerge from his shell to relate a parsha story or a fact about the chagim.

This morning, the turtle emerged. "You want to hear something funny about gan?"
My entire body snapped to attention. Easy now, I warned myself, if you act too excited he'll slide right back in.
"Sure," I replied with forced casualness. "I love funny stories."

"You know those wocks that tell you what way to go? We have those at gan!!!"

Huh. I had not one iota of clue what he was talking about. But if you ask too many questions or if you don't understand, he gets frustrated at having to explain himself. I tried asking again, but he repeated the same thing: "Wocks that tell you what way to go."

Donny hit upon a clever workaround. "Oh yeah? That's interesting. And where else have you seen those rocks before?" Aha!

Silence. "I don't know."

And the turtle slowly retreated. When we go to gan tomorrow, I'll have to (casually) ask Yaakov to point out those navigational wocks. And then Yaakov and I will have a good laugh.

******The answers are in!******

I asked Yaakov to point out these wocks to me at gan. We looked out of the window into the chatzer. They looked like....rocks. I was still stumped. I tried to elicit more information out of him. (At this point, figuring out what he was talking about had become a personal challenge.)

"You know, they're red and green and orange. And me and Ariella like to stand on them."

Still stumped. I had bought them a rock-painting art kit over the summer, but I don't particularly recall that the rocks were stand-able.

Later, when describing the situation to Ariella, in hopes that she could help demystify the wocks, I suddenly hit on the answer.
.
.
.
.

Hiking.

When we went hiking during our vacation, the trail markers were often painted on rocks. Which gives us rocks, that are red, green and orange. He and Ariella liked to stand on them. And, most importantly, they tell you where to go.

Later, I said to Yaakov, "So those are the kinds of rocks we saw when we were hiking, right?"

"Yes," he replied, in a "isn't it obvious and why are we still talking about these rocks?" sort of way.

I, for one, can finally rest easy.

Ramblings...You Know You Wanted Some!

2011-09-08T19:39:00.005+03:00

1. I started a post called "The Lazy Mom's Guide to Parenting," but then realized it was really just another name for "Leave Me Alone So I Can Read the Paper."

2. This week was our 3rd aliyahversary (well, everyone except Nadav's). That's right, 3 years ago this week we landed in Israel, with bad Hebrew and crying children. And now, 3 years later... well, we've drunk a lot more shoko.

Just kidding of course! We had a baby, bought an apartment, shipped an oven! Our Hebrew has improved, the children's English has de-proved, and the children don't cry all the time. They also fight and call each other names.

3. Speaking of which, yet another day has ended with me hauling off my prize fighters to their respective corners, while they mutter "Stupid Awiella" and "All I was doing was...." And then fervently hoping they do something really amazing with their lives, like find a cure for lice or invent a broom that sweeps rice and pasta off the floor without turning it into little gray dust mites. And then I will look back on this time and laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha.

4. Nadav demonstrated today what happens when you stick your fingers in your sandwich to scoop out the cream cheese, then wipe those same fingers in sand and smush it all in your hair.

5. Heblish is not all bad. Yes, it makes for some funny-sounding children:

Who will save on us when you go out?
Before two weeks...
OR red OR blue
How is he called?
You by yourself don't even know!
Mommy's Matan (my personal favorite)

But sometimes, it makes the children sound downright intelligent:

For what is this present?
To where are we going?
Everyone who wants should raise his (not "their") hand!

6. Well, that's all for now. Wishing everyone a good ToTh Festival.

School's In!

2011-09-04T14:50:00.002+03:00

A round-up of the beginning of the school year:

Ariella (who has transferred to the school in our new neighborhood, although we don't live there yet. Yes, this move has blown the mind of most Israelis. In any case, this means new school, teachers, kids).

[rolling eyes] Yeah yeah, new school, new kids, whatever. It's SCHOOL! I LOVE school! Textbooks! And math! Yippee!!

Oh God, Daddy wants to walk me in the first day. Must set him straight. "I am not a baby, Daddy. I'll go in myself." (Ed. note: She and I had been in her classroom all of one time. She had no qualms about going in herself. I, on the other hand, got lost picking her up.)

Yaakov (in gan chova, aka kindergarten)

Yoyoyo, I'm all hooked up with my Mickey Mouse tik and aruchat eser! And look! It's my gan peeps! Time to go dig in the sand! Whoo-hoo! Senior year!

Nadav (first year in mishpachton)

Whee! Mommy and I are playing in this new house! What fun! Such wonderful toys! Wait - is that Mommy kissing me goodbye and leaving???? WAAAAHHHH!! She will never ever come back! I will be here forever! She has abandoned me!!!! [Later...] She's back! She came back for me! Oh glory be! She's picking me up! I shall never detach myself from her hip again!

Next day: Uh oh. We've entered the Place again. No way, she's not tricking me into sitting down and "playing" with her. I know what that means. Oh no! She's leaving again! WAAAAHHHH!!! She will never, ever come back! I will be here forever! She has abandoned me!!!! [Later...] She's back! She's back! Pick me up! PICK ME UP NOW! Heh heh heh, I got her now, just got to direct her to the door, that's it, easy does it, and....see ya later, suckers!

So all in all, off to a good start. Even Nadav appeared to have a fairly good day today at gan (his first full day). And by "fairly good," I mean he was not curled up crying miserably in the corner when I came to get him.

And even when he cries a lot, they don't seem to lock him in the bathroom because the crying disturbs the other children, which is what happened to this blogger I know when she was little. And there's also no little boy named Mark telling him that his Mommy is never, ever coming back. Which also happened to this same blogger. Which is why she feels very bad leaving a crying baby at mishpachton. But she knows he'll be okay, and that eventually, he, too, will roll his eyes when his Mommy wants to walk him in.

Accomplishments

2011-08-29T14:20:00.004+03:00

Summer Checklist

1. Spent lots of money on kaytanot that were over in about 3.5 seconds.

2. Spent two mind-numbing weeks (or was it years?) entertaining kids at home, answering the following question multiple times a day: What are we doing now? Also: What can I eeeeaaaaatttt?

3. Pooled it up, making the most of our membership, to the point where I tell the kids we're going to the pool and they act as if I told them we're going to clean up elephant dung.

4. Stopped trying to clean. At all. At some earlier, more energetic point in the summer, I wiped counters, cleaned floors and washed dishes multiple times a day. Now I just numbly stare at the accumulated filth and think, "Next week, my precioussss. Next week."

5. Answered "yes" to whatever the children want during our many food shopping trips together. Before they even ask.
"Can we get - ?"
"Yes."
Which is how we've ended up with 5 boxes of Shabbat cereal per person and a lovely cashier.

6. Considered it a success if at the end of the day, there are 3 children sleeping in their beds. (Extra points if the children are actually my own.)

7. Toured the North.

8. During our tour of the North, drove through many random itsy-bitsy towns (some Israeli, some Arab, some both) in our attempt to find Nice Hikes. At some point said to Donny, "Look at the map, we just make a right and follow the brown line for a while." This usually resulted in us being "lost," having to "turn around" and swearing to "never follow the brown line again."

9. In light of #8, learned to use Google maps on my phone to great effiency. "Oh look. We are lost. We should turn around. Why did we follow that brown line?"

10. Strictly followed our Vacation Diet
Breakfast: In the past, this just meant cereal. But this year we stayed in a hotel-like place, which came with breakfast. There was a wide variety of food, so my children ate cereal.
Lunch: A healthy variety of Snacks - fruit, granola bars, crackers, breadsticks, rice cakes. You have to know how to mix it up every day so the family doesn't get sick of it. Also, artikim. Of course. Although there were not ice cream stands at every 5 km in the Western Galilee as there were in the Kinneret region. This is probably because the the Western Galilee is much less trafficked than the Kinneret area during the summer months.
Dinner: Something Mommy did not shop for, cook for or clean up from. This can include Eating Out, BBQ or ordering pizza. We did them all, at least twice.

11. Marveled at how the same children who spend much of their day not starting fights with each other can play so nicely and quietly when it's bedtime.

12. Completed the whirlwind school supply shopping early in August, yet still await two books that "haven't come in yet."

13. Enjoyed not making aruchat eser for two sandwich-averse children.

14. Attended at least one school orientation per child. (Not completely checked yet. I've only attended two; there are two tomorrow. Yes, that's right. And I only have 3 children.)

15. Had way too many bad-time-to-run-into-an-ex moments. (Term coined by my good, though blogless friend, LISA.) Many of them involved me covered in bits of soggy cheese and Bamba dust, careening through a parking lot holding a screaming toddler and pushing a wayward Rami Levi cart, with two shoko-drenched children wandering aimlessly behind me, shoving each other.

So it seems that I am nearly all checked-off. Time to go back to school!

How many did YOU do?

Nadav's Excellent Adventure

2011-08-24T08:01:00.006+03:00

Well, as you know, my family is on "vacation" again. Or, as I call it, "Nadav is Rudely Awoken Just as He Has Finally Fallen Asleep in the Car. Also, Nadav Does Not, I Repeat, NOT Enjoy the Ocean or Any Other Water That Moves."

Although it's not all bad. Things I enjoy:
1. Hiking while strapped to Mommy's back. All of the views, none of the work.
2. Tottering around outside our little hotel/zimmer. Especially when I'm wearing only a diaper and shoes. Ahhh, freedom.
3. Snacks! These people know how to snack it up. Grapes, granola bars, crackers. All the good stuff.

So my people complain I don't have words. "Get some words, Nadav!" they are always saying to me. I don't get it. I understand exactly what I'm saying! But at least they're making some headway. For example, an easy one: "Alah" is Ariella. Or Yaakov. Whatever. "Add-dee" sometimes means Daddy. Or not. It might mean the tree I am conversing with. But it's cute that Daddy thinks it means him all the time. Because he gets all smiley and picks me up and pays attention to me. So I like to say it a lot.

Then Mommy gets all grumbly and goes on about how I said Daddy before Mommy and what kind of gratitude is that, blah blah blah. She can go on, that one. But I don't need to say Mommy. All I have to do is say, "Unh! UNNNH!" and pick my arms up and she comes to me! And lifts me up into the crook of her left arm so I can conveniently suck my fingers! Do you see a reason to learn her name? Didn't think so.

A new "adventure" that I did not partake of last year is this whole "eating out" business. The kids get super excited about going to a restaurant. I don't get it. First, you have to wait for your food. Sometimes, there's not even yogurt on the menu! What kind of place is that, I ask you??? Then, I can't just get up when I want to and wander around and pull things off the table. And when I do my taste test (eat some food, chew it up, mush it around, then take it out and hand it to Mommy when it doesn't meet my approval)...well, Mommy doesn't understand my taste test to begin with, but it makes her even more grumbly when I do it at a restaurant.

However, I have been VERY successful in conducting my science experiment. When in the car, strapped into the boooooring car seat, do the following:

1. Get a bottle of water.
2. Have someone open it for you. If the big people express reservation about this part, UNNH UNNNH until they give in.
3. Drink a little. It gets hot in the car.
4. Now, turn the bottle of water upside down. Two things will happen: Water will come out. And you will get wet. Here's the interesting thing - the part of you that gets wet is directly related to the part you squirted water on!

And this happens every single time! Amazing! It also causes Mommy to get grumbly, but she's kind of given up on stopping me. You can torture me with hamburgers and the ocean, but the scientific process WILL march forward.

Questions to Ponder

2011-08-22T20:47:00.002+03:00

Well, our Northern Vacation is going swimmingly.

I am preparing an in-depth post on Doing the North, Rose Style. You see, since I have taken a vacation in the north, I am now authorized to be an Expert on taking vacations in the north. In the same way I am an expert on children because I have them. In fact, I have one of each - a Girl, a Boy and a Baby.

For example, in my upcoming Vacation treatise, I will make blanket statements based on personal experiences. "The Western Galilee is much less trafficked than the Kinneret area during the summer months" is a statement you might see.

For now, I will share with you a Question which came up during one of our "long" car rides. (Living in Israel has warped the children's sense of a "long" time to be in the car. We used to make frequent 4-hour trips between New York and Baltimore. Now, if we're in the car for longer than it takes to get to Rami Levi, we have "Are we there yet?"s every ten minutes for the next hour.)

In any case, here is the question:

"Can a bee sting a mosquito?"

Discuss.

I'd Rather Starve

2011-08-16T21:42:00.002+03:00

It is Vacation Week for the Roses. I was sitting on the beach today, while everyone was occupied (a miracle, to be sure), and my mind started wandering. Sometimes this is a problem. "Mind, get back here! Right now!" I have been known to shout. But today it was okay. So I let it out for a little stroll. And this is what it came up with.

Food. What food do I find so disgusting that I would only eat it if it were the very last thing on earth? There were two rules for this game:

1. It had to be something I've eaten in the past; sweet and sour snake might be gross, but maybe it's delicious and exquisite. I wouldn't know; I've never tried.

2. It could not be some gross concoction of foods I've eaten. No "marshmallow and flounder topped pizza."

I came up with 2 answers, both rather simple:

1. PB&J sandwich. Love PB, love J, hate 'em together. Sickening.
2. Cream cheese sandwich. Cream cheese on a bagel with lox and tomato? Delicious. On plain bread - white bread is the worst, for some reason? Gag. Shudder. Shudder and gag.

Donny's answer:
Pizza topped with pineapple and barbeque sauce. And yes, he actually ate that once.

Ariella's answer:
Garlic, cooked carrots, sushi and shwarma. A weird combination, but those are her Least Favorite Things. (She actually spent the rest of the day discussing and analyzing this question. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has met her.)

Yaakov and Nadav did not play, but Yaakov's answer would probably be Something that Yesterday I Found Extremely Delicious But Now that You Went Out and Bought Ten, I Hate Them.

Nadav's answer would most likely be "Shabbat food," since for some reason the meals I put the most effort into are the ones that usually end up spewed and thrown all over my floor.

Loyal Readers, your opinions, please?

"Roses, Wildlife; Wildlife, Roses"

2011-08-11T06:35:00.011+03:00

Soon we will leave on vacation. God willing. And we will have adventures and fun and ice cream. Before we do that, I wanted to share a very fun, ice-cream filled adventure we had last Friday. Seriously. No snark here.

Every year, the Microsoft Israel office has a "Give" campaign, with different things employees can bid on. This year, one of the items was a private tour of the safari in Ramat Gan. Donny thought that would be fun so he bid on it. Apparently, no one else did, because we actually won! Won something cool! Not like, "Here is your large pile of crumbs of unknown origin!" or "Someone will throw basketballs at your head every day for a month!"

They asked us when we wanted to have our day of fun (or DOF, as it's known in DADZ-verse), and naturally I picked the Friday of the 9 days, the no-swim-no-beach-how-do-we-entertain-our-kids-all-day day. We were told to get there at 7:15 so we could be there to help feed the animals before they opened at 9:00.

Digression alert! An all-too familiar parenting moment: Knowing we wouldn't have time for breakfast in the morning, I prepared food to take with us. I cut up fruit, made sandwiches and bags of cereal, put water bottles in the fridge on Thursday night so they'd be cold. I packed granola bars and crackers and tissues and diapers and wipes and a trusty plastic bag for whatever might need a quick disposal. As we're about to head out on Friday morning, this thought runs through my dear husband's head: Huh. We've got these kids! Let's see, there's one...two...three! Three of them! From what I remember, kids need food! We should probably - wait for it - take some with us! Let me tell Gila about this plan. She'll most likely swoon from the excellent parenting skills I am displaying.
"Should we take some food for the kids?"
[Patented withering mother look.] "Yes. What a good idea you had."

We arrived, and met Miki, who works at the safari. The first thing she did was drive us over to where the tractor is. Yaakov, Ariella and I got to ride on the feeding tractor. It has a big container with the animal feed on the back, and as we drove through, the farmer dude let out the feed and the animals came THIS CLOSE to us.
.

No zoom here, folks!

I have lots more cool pictures from the tractor, but I don't want to run the risk of becoming the "Look at all these adorable pictures of my child in slightly different positions staring at the camera with a gob of green gook on his cheek! Awwww!" blogger

There were lots of different animals. Deer and deer-like animals, something that I thought was a wildebeest (from my multiple viewings of "The Lion King") although the safari map said they were actually gnus (gnui?) - but wait! Google says that a wildebeest IS a gnu! Score one for wildlife education through Disney movies! Rhinos, hippos, birds that are not part of the safari but come for the free food, ostriches, and more that I can't remember.

Then we walked around the safari and got to feed giraffes,

chimpanzees (it's only 11 seconds, don't be afraid to click),

and saw the lions in their sleeping cages.

Then we got a tour of the animal hospital (where the tzedakah money actually went.)

Then we got to hang out in the safari with the "regular" people, which was nice (only Ariella, who has gone the past 3 years with kaytanah, had ever been to the safari before), but it was super hot and somewhat of a letdown after our cool backstage tour.

Ariella decided to ride a pony. Yes, that equestrian hat was on the lice-ridden head of hundreds of other little girls and boys. We performed a thorough combing that afternoon.

So, even with our 6:00 wake up, it was a great day. And big shout-out to Donny, who, despite the earlier food incident, really came through for us. Not only did he win this very cool tour in the first place, but he gallantly offered to ride behind the tractor with the cranky one-year-old while I got to ride on it and meet some of our hoofed and snouted friends. And that, people, is true love.

Upgrading

2011-08-06T21:28:00.008+03:00

Technology. It can make things so complicated.

In the last week, I've been waaaay upgraded. Donny bought me a new laptop (which I am using right now; doesn't this post feel streamlined and sleek? Not to mention lightweight with sharp sound?) Also, he bought me an iPhone and a Bluetooth ear thingy.

But Technology requires special care and attention. Sort of like children. (Also: Both shouldn't be dropped.) Files needed to be transferred from the old computer to the new. Contacts had to be switched from phone to phone (and some disappeared on the way - if anyone sees some lost names and numbers wandering aimlessly around Modiin, send them my way.) And the Bluetooth just plain didn't work, necessitating a trip back to the store.

While I played with my new cool toys, my thoughts kept drifting back to the days before WiFi and cellphones.

I mean, cavemen certainly didn't have text messaging that could be accomplished with a few flicks of the finger. If they wanted to invite a friend to a party, let's say, they had to find a large rock and scratch onto it, "r u coming l8r?" then go outside of their cave and hurl the rock to their neighbor. If it didn't hit their neighbor on the head (text messaging has had its dangers since the beginning of time), the recipient would read the rock and hurl one back: ":) cant wait"

Once people discovered transportation, they got themselves the heck away from those damn caves and spread out to all four corners of the land. It became much harder to hurl rocks, so the Pony Express was started. Courageous riders would travel for days, traversing treacherous mountains, fording deep rivers, sleeping under cover of leaves and spilling their coffee all over themselves; this was before cup holders were invented.

Finally, the rider would reach his destination to deliver the important message. The delighted recipient could finally read the note he or she had been anticipating for months: "lol"

Yes, Technology has come a long way. And despite its occasional neediness, overall it has made our lives simpler. I, for one, have certainly benefited. In the old days, "blogging" meant touring the countryside, singing, dancing and juggling dangerous objects to entertain your Loyal Peasants. Now, I can just make stuff up and press "Publish." Way easier.

My August is Longer than Your August

2011-08-01T07:14:00.003+03:00

So kaytanah just zipped right on by, and now it's Camp Mommy. Actually, kaytanah ended on the 26th. I thought to myself, "Kids are in camp for July, then they are home in August," so technically, my August started on July 27th. And let me tell you, it's been a looooong month. We are going away to the north with the rest of Israel after Tisha B'Av, so I just gotta make it till the 15th. (Of course, after vacation, there's almost a full week at home before school starts. But shhh....we're not going to talk about that.)

I thought I was being so smart by buying lots of art projects and workbooks ahead of time. Plus, you know, going to the pool. Unfortunately, the 9 days had the nerve to fall right during the weeks my kids are at home with nothing to do. Damn you, leap year! (Although it was nice that Pesach was after tax season, so Momz and DADZ could come, so, yay, leap year!)

Let's check in on all of my Grand August Plans, now that we're one week in:

"Ariella will love her workbooks!" - Ariella does love her workbooks. So much so that she finishes about one a day. Don't know that Israeli workbook production can keep up the pace.

"The kids will spend all afternoon doing art projects!" - The kids spend about twenty minutes doing an art project. (And that's average - about 30 minutes for Ariella, 10 for Yaakov.)

"I'll bake with them!" - We did make sugar cookies, and the kids did all the rolling and decorating. Time: Half hour (although I was sweeping up little sprinkles for days.)

"I'll make a schedule for them! With planned and organized activities every half hour!" - Ariella's response: "Can I do a workbook instead?" Yaakov's response: [stares mutely at me, sucking his thumb]

"I'll have a chance to work when Nadav naps and the kids are playing quietly!" - There's a reason "Bring Your Kids to Work" day is only once a year.

But it's also given us a chance to bond, and chat, and discuss burning questions. For example, when Yaakov, out of the blue, asked how babies come out, and I told him, and Ariella exclaimed, horrified, "But that's really small!" (Don't worry, two seconds later they were on to something else, probably chasing Nadav as he attempted to eat some paint.)

Or today, when Ariella pontificated about the 9 days:

"I think it should go like this:
First day - no meat for breakfast.
Second day - no meat for breakfast or lunch.
Third day - no meat for breakfast, lunch or dinner.
Fourth day - all of the above, plus no laundry.
Fifth day - all of the above, plus no weddings or birthday parties.
Sixth day - all of the above, plus no swimming.
Seventh and eight day - all of the above, plus no wine.
Except if one of those days is Shabbat.
Then Tisha B'Av!"

The Ease-Into-It Plan. Awesome. I can't wait till she starts paskening.

The Negotiating Table

2011-07-24T20:06:00.003+03:00

[Scene: Shabbat afternoon, post-lunch. Donny and I are struggling not to fall asleep directly on our cholent.]

Me: Guys, if you let Mommy and Daddy sleep when Nadav goes in for his nap, I'll pay you four shekel. Each.

Yaakov: Five shekel.

Donny: Four shekel if you play nicely together, one shekel if you also clean up after.

Me: "Playing nicely" means no fighting, no screaming and don't wake us up unless a limb is missing or there is a copious amount of blood spurting from somewhere.

Yaakov and Ariella: Okay.

We shake hands all around.

I sleep for two hours.

Best 10 shekel I ever spent.

An Afternoon at The Roses

2011-07-18T20:13:00.004+03:00

Well it seems that another blogless week has gone by. Where does the time go? In the meantime, summer has been rolling merrily along, or maybe it has been rolling around on the floor, hitting its sister. Either way.

We are now in our 3rd week of kaytanah, otherwise known as the second to last week of camp, or the final full week, since next Tuesday marks the last day of camp. Then it will be Camp What Are We Doing NOW? for two weeks, then VACATION! followed by another week of Camp WAWDN.

Yes, kaytanah is sadly very short in this country. And the children are not in tzaharon, so their day is very short as well. They've been entertaining themselves in Tzaharon Shel Ima. Here's how a typical day goes:

1:10 I walk in the door with Yaakov.

1:10 - 7:00 Yaakov eats.

1:30 - 4:00 Yaakov wanders around the apartment, sucking his thumb with Blue Blanket over his head, completely uninterested in any of the hundreds, nay thousands, of age-appropriate activites we have lying around. (Unless it's a designated Movie Day. On those days, Yaakov sits, sucking his thumb with Blue Blanket by his side, glued to the tiny portable DVD screen. But only Yaakov fully understands the complexities of movie-day designation.)

1:30 I put Nadav in for a nap, because everyone, especially Mommy, needs some Quiet Time.

1:45 Ariella walks in.

1:45 - 7:00 Ariella eats.

2:00 - 4:00 Ariella finishes another "Minheret Hazman" book, which is a shame because we were just at the library yesterday and she's now finished her allotted 3 books. (2 for Yaakov, 3 for Ariella. She reads one on the way home from the library, one that night, and one the next day. I exaggerate. But only a little.) I suggest reading an English book. She suddenly decides it's time to cut her nails.

4:00 - 5:30 Time to Do Something. Pool, playdate, buy Nadav shoes (hey, it counts as an outing!) Doing Something usually involves packing a very large bag full of everything, except the one thing we desperately needed.

5:30 Ariella sighs dramatically, "What do you want from me??!!!" (The events that precipitated the declaration change from day to day.)

5:45 Nadav climbs on a stepstool (from which the only way down is Falling), eats a fuse bead, tries to escape through an open door, empties the contents of his dresser onto the floor, eats wipes, toddles around the house shrieking (it's his War Cry), gets his fingers caught, tests the theory that the sippy cup is 100% spill-proof (it's not), eats something he found lying around somewhere, and then is very, very quiet because he's busy coloring all over the floor.

At some point, there is dinner. Don't ask me why.

6:00 Yaakov and Ariella get into a screaming/hitting match. Which is amazing, because neither of them started it.

6:15 Something I do or say is "Not Fair."

6:30 Baths, maybe?

6:45 The children sense that bedtime draws nigh. Suddenly, everyone is calm. Pajamas are put on, teeth are brushed, and Yaakov decides he wants to get into an intense game of Cars and Trucks, the same Cars and Trucks he refused to even look at during the afternoon. Ariella sits down quietly to do an art project. Nadav happily plays with blocks and kitchen toys.

So that's a typical day at the Roses. Times and activities are subject to change without notice. Yesterday, for example, I surprised them with Play-Doh. "Why don't I do this more often," thought I, as they entertained themselves happily, making Play-Doh creations. Then I saw the Play-Doh stuck on the floor, their clothes, and a box of seltzer. Nadav was picking off the Play-Doh Yaakov had squished into the table and eating it. And then I remembered why.

Ramblings: Special Shout-Out Edition!

2011-07-10T20:23:00.004+03:00

My Tired friend has a gentle way of nudging me and reminding me that I need to blog. Usually she calls me "Dude." Then I know I'm in trouble for being a neglectful blogger.

So I dedicate this post to her. Even though I am jealous that she is leaving me to sweat here in 35-degree weather while she picks blueberries in beautiful 80-degree Maine. (I may not be bilingual, but I am bi-degree-al.)

Here are some thoughts swimming around in my head, similar to my children, swimming around the Modiin pool, although my thoughts do not shout at me, "Watch me, Mommy! Are you watching? YOU DIDN'T LOOK!"
*************************************

1. Why does God, in His infinite wisdom, give children the ability to desire things before the ability to articulate said desires? ("Unnnnnhhh! UNNNHHHHH!" is just not cutting it.)

We often "UNHHH!" our way through the entire toy basket. Nadav clearly wants something, so we take out everything. The red ball. No! The blocks? No! Mommy's old pocketbook? NO! Piggy bank, MagnaDoodle, truck, frisbee? Nononono! The...red ball? YES!

2. Why do Israeli children count starting from three? Anywhere you go, when kids want to count, like before jumping in the pool, or starting a race, etc., you hear, "Shalosh arbah VIH!" And they never finish. It's never "VIH-chamesh!" Just "VIH!" Like a numerical cliffhanger. I wonder if this continues in adulthood.

Surgeon, preparing to move a patient from the stretcher to a bed: On my count everyone!
[Staff, in singsong]: Shalosh arbah VIH!

3. A special shout-out to a new blog on the blogroll: kidsarenapping. The blogger is a friend of mine and mom of twins (boy and girl, since I know you wanted to ask). She writes in a way that will have you nodding your head and going, "YES! I know EXACTLY what you mean!" Even if your kids have come one at a time, I guarantee you will enjoy her blog.

4. Another shout-out to my "SISTERS" in Baltimore, on the birth of a son/nephew. However, let me be clear that this is the LAST shout-out until I see some COMMENTING!!

5. And a shout-out to myself, the newest blogger at Jewish Values Online. (You can access the blog here ). If you want to know which blog entries were written by me, just look for my code name at the bottom: "gila."

I'm always on the lookout for interesting topics to blog about over there, so if something catches your eye, let me know and I will bring my formidable blogging powers to bear on the topic of your choice. (And yet another shout-out, this time to A Mother in Israel, for unwittingly providing me with some of the recent blog topics.)

6. Well, I am just about hoarse from all these shout-outs. Time to rest the blogging voice. (But hopefully not for too long, Tired.)

Camp!

2011-07-05T10:19:00.002+03:00

Q&A With Yaakov About Camp

Yaakov started camp on Monday. It is not in our neighborhood, and I didn't know any other kids going. So I asked him after the first day if he knew anyone.

"Yes, Ben! We play togethaw!"

"Did you know Ben before?"

[Exasperated] "No, I just met him today!"

"Do you have davening at camp?"

[Very seriously.] "No Mommy. We are VEWY busy. We have a LOT of pwojects to do and we don't have time faw davening."

"So, did you go the park at camp today?"

"Of cawse! We go to the pawk EVEWY day!" (This is after Day #2 of camp.)

So he's having a great time, though he's not thrilled with the aruchat eser choices, but I'm not offering to make him anything different because it is SUMMER and I am declaring my Freedom from Aruchat Eser until September 1st. It is the God-given right of Israeli parents to have 8 weeks off from aruchat eser every year.

Though, as Ariella pointed out, "But since we're not in tzaharon, you have to make lunch every day." Hmmm. Fair point.

Speaking of Ariella, she is going to camp ON A BUS. Her camp is in a nearby park/forest/campground (Ya'ar Ben Shemen) and she needs to get there ON A BUS. Also, she comes home from camp ON A BUS. Her BFF is also ON THE BUS with her. And they spend endless hours creating detailed plans about who sits where, and when, based on when each of them gets on and off THE BUS. The camp also has swimming almost every day (a rarity, from what I've seen so far) and lots of trips. So that's lots of fun.

But did I mention THE BUS????

School's Out

2011-06-30T10:23:00.003+03:00

And another school year comes to a close. I know, I know, for those of you in America, school is just a distant, fuzzy memory, but here, June 30th marks the last day (at least for the elementary school crowd).

For some reason, the end of the school year always makes me all weepy and nostalgic.

The beginning of the year is marked by nerves. Wondering how the kids will like their new teachers, settling into our new routines, getting into the grind of bedtime and homework and lunch-making and morning rush. But then things hit their stride "אחרי החגים," and while the first month of school always feels like it lasts ten years, from November on, the weeks just fly by.

And before you can say, "I need to bring in 50 gumballs for a party tomorrow!" it's Pesach and Yom Ha____ and Shavuot and the year is almost over.

Which brings us to today. I can now look back on the year and be so proud of what the kids accomplished.

Yaakov walking in to gan every day, by himself, giving me his patented "backward wave," because it's much more efficient than having to turn around to wave to me. So different from the boy who had to be pulled off my leg last year. And, this year, he got stickers! For good behavior! Who woulda thunk?

Nadav learning to walk! And to shake his head "no" as he throws his food off his tray!

And Ariella? I just loved watching her love school.

But now it's over. All the routines and compromises and accomplishments and disappointments and small arguments and end-of-day hugs that colored this year....finished.

So it makes me a touch misty-eyed, but you know, time marches on and all that. Anyway, we have chofesh to think about! Kaytanot, vacation, and lots and lots of pool days!

And then - onto the next school year.

Henrietta Szold, Revisited

2011-06-27T13:49:00.002+03:00

A while ago, we spoke about how Ariella got to take a test from the Henrietta Szold Institute for Smart Kids. Basically, she had done well on part one of the test, in school, so she was invited to take part two. If she passed, she would get to take a Chug for Smart Kids next year.

A different institute, Machon Karni for Smart Kids, also wanted Ariella to take a test. She's in a chug this year, Eshkolot, that she got to take based on the recommendation from her previous year's teacher. But this year they changed the rules. Instead of accepting only kids who were recommended by the teacher, any kid could be considered, if they passed the test. And kids were already in the chug this year had to take the test as well if they wanted to continue the chugim next year.

Following so far? To make it even more complicated, the Eshkolot people said if she passed the Szold test that would count as well. Were Mr. Karni and Ms. Szold friends, back in the day?

Now, these Eshkolot chugim are a pain, timing-and-parking-wise, but Ariella really enjoyed them and wanted to continue next year. So we said we would take this second test, just to make really really sure she would get in and be able to take her chugim.

Well, just last week I received two letters. One from Machon Szold and one from Eshkolot. The contents:

Dear Parents of Ariella,
Your child is no longer smart.
Love,
Us

She didn't pass either of these tests. Which means no more Chugim for Smart Kids for Ariella.

I was devastated. I figured the Szold test wouldn't upset Ariella so much, since we never really understood what it was for anyway. But I knew how much she wanted to take her chugim, and now I had to tell her she didn't pass her test.

The American parent in me despaired, "How do you give a test to an 8-year-old that they can't pass???? What is the matter with you people???? What a blow to her self-esteem this will be! Oh the tears, the tears!"

I worried all day about how to break the news to her. When I finally did, she was quiet for a minute. Then,

"It doesn't matter," she said nonchalantly. "It will be like when I was in kitah aleph and I didn't have these chugim!"

And she goes on to discuss which of the school chugim she wants to take next year.(Cooking and computers, in case you were wondering.)

What's that you say? I should stop projecting my own fears and insecurities onto my child, as per my own chapter in my book on child-rearing called, "Stop Projecting Your Own Fears and Insecurities Onto Your Child. You Twit."?

I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you because I'm too busy crying that I - I mean Ariella - didn't pass my test. I mean her test. Hmmmm.

In other Ariella news, we had her mesibat siyum last night. Usually, Daddy gets picked to go, but this time Ariella wanted some girl time. So Daddy came home early and Mommy and Ariella went off. I was excited. The kids were told to bring their chumash, so I figured we would do some sort of parent-child learning. Much better than the usual "quality time" we spent together, consisting of: "Ariella brush your teeth."

The party was at a shul, instead of at school. We walked in, and there was a puppet show set up. I figured perhaps it was going to be a story in chumash they had learned. We sat down.

The show began.

It was about Jews in 15th century Toledo, Spain.

There was a magical diamond. And a talking lion.

It lasted 45 minutes.

Then, we all broke for "dinner" consisting of Osem cakes, rugelach and Sprite.

After dinner, we headed back inside shul. Okay, now we are going to do something meaningful, something substantial, something worthy of children who have completed the entire chumash Bereishit.

We played Bingo.

It was Bereishit Bingo, so poofahs for that. But basically the teachers asked riddle-y questions, and if you had the answer on your board, you crossed it off. Not sure what the purpose of bringing the chumash was, except as a surface on which to place your Bingo board.

After the game, we split into the 3 classes, where the teacher read a beautiful poem to the class (really, it was, no sarcasm there), and said something nice and personal about each kid in class. Each kid got a clock and we went home.

Now, I love Ariella's school. And I think her teacher is beyond amazing. I mean, she could be the president of Planet Awesome. So I was a little surprised at this rather meaningless end-of-year party.

But Ariella had fun.

Plus, I got to see an original song and dance! (Take that, Glee!) Starring Ariella! See, last Friday her class planned a surprise party for their teacher, complete with a choreographed song. And at the mesibat siyum, they got to perform it for the entire grade.

It was super cute. Waaaay better than the Talking Lions of Medieval Spain.

Get a Clue

2011-06-22T23:54:00.002+03:00

Donny returned from America, bearing gifts. For he is a wise man.

One of the most exciting gifts he brought is the game of Clue. I remember spending many happy hours playing this game in my youth. The only downside is that you can't really play on Shabbat; or, you can, you just have to be reeeaaaaaallllly creative.

We tore off the plastic and opened the game. As I started to explain the rules to Ariella, it dawned on me how very macabre this childhood game of mine is.

"See," I began brightly, "there's this guy, Mr. Body. And he was killed! In his own house! By one of these people! And your job is to figure out who did it, where they did it, and how!" Ariella starts examining the little toy weapons, which look like a twisted version of Monopoly pieces. She holds up a slightly bent metal one.

"How do you kill someone with this?" she wonders.

"Well," I chirp, "it's a wrench, you see, so you just bang the person over the head again and again till they die! Haha! Okay then! Maybe we should just start playing!"

After a practice round, Ariella was starting to get the hang of it. Yaakov, however, was not feeling so sanguine about Clue.

"This is a vewy bad game faw my age," he declared, and stomped off to play with his new build-a-tube-contraption-and-throw-marbles-down-it toy.

Ariella had just one question about the game. "But why?" she insisted, "WHY did they want to kill him?"

Maybe we'll just stick with Go Fish.

Random Things I Miss About America

2011-06-16T14:15:00.003+03:00

We know the big ones - English, Family, and Old Navy, but sometimes, it's not about the Big Ones, it's about...

....baby carrots. Not baby food carrots, I'm talking about those little pre-peeled, bite-sized carrots that come in bags. My kids enjoy eating carrots, but frankly, I find cutting them a pain. Unlike a cucumber, which you can just slice over their plates as they're eating dinner ("Mom! Stop dropping cucumbers on my head!"), carrots require a peeler. And unless you have superhuman thumbs, you can't cut them without a cutting board. So now you've had to drag the peeler AND the cutting board. Who has time for this? (And if you say something chirpy and cheerful and helpful like, "Cut a big bag of carrots in the beginning of the week and then you'll have them all week long!" I will bop you on the head with my cutting board. But it's flimsy plastic, so don't worry, it won't really hurt.)

....free coffee refills. Especially because I spend many of my days working at a cafe, where I spend anywhere from NIS 12-16 for a "large" coffee. (Yes, you heard me right, at Cafe Joe, coffee is SIXTEEN shekel). And after about three minutes, the coffee is finished and the cup is just sitting there sadly on your table. But no more coffee for you, unless you'd like to shell out another 12-16 shekel.

....Carvel Ice Cream cake. Especially that ice creamy frosting stuff on top. And the chocolate crunchies. I miss those crunchies.

....free library books, as many as you want. I had to pay a one-time deposit of NIS 35/book, for as many books as I wanted to have out at any one time. So I opted for 5 books (2 for Yaakov, 3 for Ariella), which are finished in about 2 days.

....camps that run for 6 weeks.

....over-the-counter medications. Good ones. That are not BEHIND the counter, necessitating you to wait in line even though you don't have a prescription. Even better, I miss OTC medications that you could buy in the grocery store. Very efficient.

....also, automatic RX refills. (Oooh....idea! Idea! Coffee refills that are both free and automatic. That is the kind of innovation we need!)

In the past week...

2011-06-13T19:27:00.004+03:00

...we celebrated Shavuot, about which it says in the Torah, "And thine children shall be hometh from school for three complete days, despite the holiday lasting but one. And thou shall consumeth large quantities of cheesecake."

...we consumed not only large quantites of cheesecake but also large quantities of Donny's famous homemade blintzes. We're machmir like that.

...our air conditioning broke. This naturally happened on Thursday night, once it was too late to do anything about it before the weekend. We did manage to have someone come out and look at it Friday. His assessment: "This is major. I cannot fix this before Shabbat," he said as we slowly dissolved into puddles of sweat. So then,

...we ran around Modiin collecting fans Friday afternoon. All the running around made us very hot. This did not help our situation.

...my very handsome and single, not to mention smart and funny, and also single, brother-in-law came for Shabbat. He was thoroughly amused by our freaking-outness, because he normally survives without the a/c. "You'd think you had no running water," he observed, watching us in our panicked state. He was very helpful in arranging the fans correctly so we had a pleasant breeze all of Shabbat.

...Ariella celebrated her eight birthday with her invite-all-the-friends party. Despite the general exhaustion involved in planning such a party, once it got started, I pretty much sat back and let the girls run the show. Ariella explained the art project (decorating mezuzot), the girls knew the whole drill when we brought out the cake. Those that finished their project early sat around and chatted. They did not run around the room, turning off lights and trying to jump out the window, like children at another birthday party which was once written about here. And, also unlike that other birthday party, at no point were there multiple children in the bathroom with their pants down around their knees. So yay! (This is not to say that we were not happy to throw that other birthday party. Just pointing out what a difference 3 years can make.)

...our air conditioning got fixed! Phew, because the whole "roughing it" thing was quickly losing whatever charm it may have once had.

...we got our new car! (You have to say it like you're on the Price Is Right.) It had been purchased a few weeks ago and was finally ready for pick up. It's a white Mitsubishi Grandis, in case you're wondering, and Yaakov gets to climb in and out through the trunk.

...Donny hopped on a plane to Seattle, via Berlin. Traveling business-class, natch.

...I found out that Loyal Reader and Frequent Commenter SaraK is actually making aliyah! All of those "when I live in Israel" comments were for real! We at aliyahbyaccident wish her lots of luck and good things and English-speaking people wherever she goes. Mazel tov!

In Which We Learn a New Hebrew Word and Send a Tene

2011-06-06T11:47:00.005+03:00

You may be wondering why I haven't been blogging so frequently lately. It is either because:

1. I am lazy.
2. I spend all day on Facebook, checking out pictures of people I don't really know.
3. I was busy scrubbing off the blue paint after I finished filming my latest role as Mystique in the new X-Men movie.

Well, I will let you ponder that. Let me know what you think.

Something I learned today:

"Flippers" in Hebrew are not, unfortunately, "fleeeeperz." 'Cuz that would have been sooo much easier. You see, today I went to buy flippers for Ariella and goggles for Yaakov because they are taking swim lessons and these were recommended by the swim teacher as a good investment.

I had learned a few years ago how to say "goggles." And no, it's not "goh-goolz," or even "mishkefay yam," despite the impressive conjugation of the second. It's "mishkefet." So that part was easy. Then came the fleeeperz. The store guy looked at me blankly. Darn. I tried to start explaining how it's something you wear on your feet to help with kicking, except I can never remember how to say "kicking." It's like never knowing where the "tet" is on the keyboard. Some facts of life like to stay tantalizingly out of reach. But we persevered, and I left with my fleeeperz and my goh-goolz.

You may be wondering why I'm scurrying out to buy these items. Well, I am so far (it's only been one lesson) very impressed with the swim teacher, who figured out right away what each kid needed to focus on. Also, he sent a feedback email! In which he called Yaakov a "great little chap!" Well, how can ima shel ha'chap NOT buy him the goggles he needs?

In Shavuot news, today was Tene Day. What the bleep is a tene, you ask? I, too, once asked that very question. The first time I heard the word was our first year here, when Yaakov was in mishpachton. It was a day or two before Shavuot, and on the parent board it said we needed to send our child in with:

1. A tene with various foods
2. A zer perachim

They might as well have written a flerhudgen and a plekerate. Huh? We were able to determine that a "tene" is also a "sal" which is a "basket." Like the ancient Jews bringing their bikkurim to the Temple in days of yore, my son needed to bring in a chocolate pudding and a nectarine. In a basket. And the "zer perachim" is a flower wreath. Which the Jews also wore on their heads as they brought bikkurim. Or something.

That wreath is such a great investment, because you just know how much use you're gonna get out of it after your child wears it for all of two seconds. It can be used for so many things, from poking your sister in the eye to poking your brother in the eye.

So today was Tene Day, and now that I am an expert, plus I have my own personal (Tired) basket buyer, we were totally under control. Chocolate pudding, bag of grapes, and a spoon. (Can you believe I remembered the spoon???)

In related Shavuot news.... (in that it's also about Shavuot...)

I'm pretty sure if you ask most people why we eat matzah on Pesach, they'll have some idea. And yet while the line at the Rami Levi cheese counter was out the door and people were buying cream cheese and gevinah levanah like the world was ending (People: It did not end before Pesach, and it will not end now! It's all going to be okay!), I am fairly certain that almost no one, including yours truly, knows why we're all over the dairy products this holiday.

Ariella came home with something about Torah being sweet like milk and honey; Shavuot is the holiday of accepting the Torah; ergo, we eat dairy. I always thought it had something to do with how before matan Torah we couldn't eat meat because we didn't know the halachot, so therefore Shavuot is a dairy holiday. And then there's the thing about Yael getting Sisrah drunk on wine and cheese and bludgeoning him to death with a tent pin and saving the day, although that's actually a Chanukah story, but since we never seem to eat dairy on Chanukah, maybe Shavuot should just co-opt that bit of history?

Oh wait! I am mixing up my cheese-wielding Jewish heroines! The Chanukah heroine is Yehudit, who got good ol' Holofernes cheesed-and-liquored-up and chopped off his head. Whoops. Maybe Yael and Yehudit should both move to Shavuot.

Ohmigod I am rambling so much even I have no idea what point I'm trying to make.

So I will end (thank God) with this:

Do you think Bnei Yisrael would have celebrated the acceptance of the Torah with a cheesecake? I'm pretty sure they had a wild steak party. "We can finally eat meat! Break out the mangal! Wah-hoooooooooooo!"

Oh yes, and flipper? It's a "snapir."

Ramblings; Including My Life Expectancy, Explained

2011-05-30T14:17:00.003+03:00

Exciting News From the DFF (DADZ Fashion Front)

DADZ got some funky new glasses. They're very cool, in a retro kind of way. Which is ironic, because DADZ has been around long enough that he witnessed the original retro. Back then, they just called it "groovy."

The Reunited Jerusalem
History of Modern Israel 101 by Yaakov

"Before the מלחמת ששת הימים, Yerushalayim was cut into two. Then, they put it back together. Then they builded the Bet HaMikdash." And there you have it.

Yaakov Explains My Life Expectancy
"Right that you and Daddy will die before us? You will have a few more birthday parties, then that's it, you die. Then Ariella and me will be married together."

What I love about this:

1. He counts life expectancy in birthday parties.
2. He assumes he and Ariella will take over the job of the Mommy and Daddy once we have passed on. Someone's gotta do it, right?

High Art
Ariella came home from school with this:

I asked her what the assignment in art class had been. The answer? "To draw a nof yisraeli (pretty view, vista in Israel.)"
Note to self: Must take children out more often.

Guest Blogger: Nadav

2011-05-24T13:10:00.004+03:00

Thank you, Baila, for understanding my need to get some of my ideas out. It was a good idea you had, that I should write a blog to celebrate my first birthday.

Apparently there was poem written, ostensibly "in my honor," though I believe I was muchly mocked. I wouldn't know; I can't read. In any case, I thought I should set some things straight, and Mom was able to tear herself away from her precious computer for a few brief moments to let me share my thoughts.

(Oh, how I compete with that computer. And you should see her! If I fall on my face, does she care? Not a whit! "Oh, you're okay, you're okay," she says, but if the Internet is down, now THAT is a tragedy. "Quick, quick we have to fix it!" she cries frantically.)

Anyway...uh oh, hold on a sec....Mom, where are you going??? I know you said I could use the computer, but you're not going to leave the room, are you? You know that you must be within my grabbing distance every waking moment!

Okay, that's better. So let's begin.

"He doesn't sleep through the night." Um, the night is like, a really long time to be by myself. Of course I want to get up in the middle and have some time with Mom. Also, I don't have to share her with the other 3 kids (Ariella, Yaakov, and Laptop.) It's just us. Also also, she kvetches a good game, but I'm in bed by 7:30, so I get a nice long stretch of sleep until I wake up at 2 or 3 or 4. Is there anything stopping her from going to sleep at 7:30? In fact, I think she'd be a lot less grumpy if she started on the Nadav Sleep Plan.

But nooooo, she has to wait for the other person, I like to call him Not Mommy, to come home and they eat dinner and watch TV together. (I know this because in the early days, I was able to join them for these evenings. No longer, my friends, no longer.)

"He's a picky eater." I look at it this way: I've reached the peak! Instead of spending weeks, months, years figuring out what foods I like and don't like, I'm finished! I got it all covered. Yogurt, fruit, cheddar cheese, Waffle Crisp, and cake. What's so wrong with that? I'm not a picky eater if you just only, and always, give me what I like! And then when they try to sneak in some chicken or meat, they complain...

"He spits out food and throws it on the floor." Well, duh! If you'd already put in the hard work of figuring out your dietary needs for the rest of your forseeable future, and then someone came along and tried to mess with that, you'd have some words, too! But I don't have any words. So I spit and throw.

"He flings his toys." Yes, I do! What a rush!

"He tries to climb into the toilet." Well, they shouldn't have made it baby-sized if they didn't want babies to climb in it. That seems pretty obvious. Same thing with toys. If you don't want me to put it in my mouth, don't make it so temptingly small! It's common sense, folks.

Oh, and then she "plays" with me by sitting on the floor and flipping through a magazine while I entertain myself, thank you very much. It's no wonder I have to invent games like Eat the Marker and Tissue Toss. I'm totally on my own!

So that's all I gotta say. It's time for us to take naps, part of the Nadav Sleep Plan - wait, what's that? You don't all sleep in the afternoon? Ahhh, that does explain a lot about the grumpiness.... anyway, I'll check in with you all later. Thanks for listening. And remember, let's keep this between us, shall we?

The Crazy Baby Turns One

2011-05-19T08:40:00.003+03:00

We're on the birthday train, here in the Rose household. This week's stop: Nadav, who turned one year on Tuesday. Yes, he's gone from being this tiny little baby who used a diaper and couldn't walk or talk....to a much larger baby who uses a diaper and can't quite walk or talk. But now he eats Bamba.

Haha!

We love you, Nadav! And in honor of your first birthday, we present to you...

The ~~Cat~~ Crazy Baby in the ~~Hat~~ Apartment

Nadav just turned one
He's full of good fun
And we wanted to show him
Our love, with a poem
*******************

Our Crazy Baby is full of good tricks.
A lot of good tricks.
He can show them to you.
Your mother will not mind if you watch one or two....

And so....
So so so....
We will tell you all of the tricks that he knows....

He can toss up a ball
Then it lands on his head
He throws food off his tray
Tries to crawl off the bed
With joyful abandon he flings all his toys
On the mirpeset he watches
All the traffic-y noise
He's drawn to the "NO!" toys like a dog to a bone
And none more exciting than Mommy's cell phone
He stands up by himself
And claps his hands with a smile
Till he falls on his tush
And zooms to a pile
Of papers and magazines that someone left out
He will crumple or eat them, of this have no doubt
When there's food on his hands
He wipes it right in his hair
He gets where he needs to
By zooming around with a chair
The bathroom door's opened!
The toilet does beckon!
We stop him from climbing in
At the very last second. (Again)
The Q-tips, he deems, belong in the bath
And pencils are chewed
Not used to do math
He shrieks with delight when he finds something funny
He doesn't even mind
If it's corny or punny
He sucks on his fingers when he needs to think
Or if he's tired or sad
Or needs a stiff drink
So, sweet Nadavoosh, Crazy Baby of ours
With your blocks and your balls
And your super fast cars
We wish you joy and laughter and Bamba a-plenty
Happy Birthday, dear Nadav,
Till one hundred and twenty

A Tale of Two Earring Holes

2011-05-16T14:08:00.002+03:00

But first, an apology: Apparently Blogger had to do some "maintenance" on their site, which included removing all posts and comments from last Thursday. They reinstated the posts but not the comments, so to all the Loyal Readers who posted comments on the previous post, I apologize that they have become the Lone Socks of cyberspace, swimming around aimlessly and bumping into spam emails and passwords.

And now, onto our regularly scheduled blog post.

In honor of Ariella finishing reading the Torah, we promised her we'd get her ears pierced before Pesach. And so, the Sunday before the Sunday before Pesach, I took her out of kaytanah early and we marched over to the jewelry store. They made the little dots on her ears, asked me to make sure they were even, and then stuck her with the earring gun. No tears, no flinching - I was very proud. It was even sort of anti-climactic. Where was the confetti? And the balloons and marching band? But so it goes.

Immediately upon arriving home, I noticed something: The holes were not even. Gulp. The left ear was fine, but on the right ear, the hole was a little off-center. But I could not admit this, even to myself. We just did this monumental rite-of-passage, and I did not, would not, believe that I had screwed it up. So I engaged in some fancy mental gymnastics to convince myself that it was just an optical illusion.

1. She has a freckle on that ear and the freckle's placement makes the hole look like it's off center, when really it's not.
2. It's just the way the earring is sitting. Really it's fine.
3. I'm just looking at it from the wrong angle. It's totally fine!

I could not voice this fear to anyone, least of all Donny. My hope is that he would say, "What are you talking about, it's totally fine!" and then I would breathe a sigh of relief and wag a finger at myself for being so paranoid. But I knew better. The man who has to have the bills in his wallet organized and facing the right way would definitely notice an off-center hole. My motto became: Don't tell Donny. That will make it real. And once it's real, it needs to be fixed. So don't tell Donny.

I couldn't ask my mother, either, because she goes into fits of panic if the tablecloth isn't even, so an off-center earring hole probably made her batty. I should be thankful she kept it together during Pesach and didn't run out of our apartment screaming. But I also knew she wouldn't say anything, not being a boat-rocker. And remember, as long as I did not voice this thought, I could continue to convince myself it was all in my head.

But then, I imagined a 15-year-old Ariella yelling at me, you screwed up my ears, and now I have to get the ear re-pierced, and it's all your fault, Mom, and why didn't you fix it when I was younger, and I hate you, and I'm moving out and taking all the Bamba.

So I took a deep breath, and said, "Donny, I have to say something. I am very scared to make this real, but I'm going to say it. It's about Ariella's ears."

"The holes aren't even."

AHHHHH!!! NOT the answer I was hoping for, though the answer I was expecting.

"You noticed it too??" I wailed.

Just as I suspected, Donny had a motto as well: Don't tell Gila. If she didn't notice, this will just make her upset. So don't tell Gila.

So we had both been letting this thought bounce around in our heads for a month, each too scared to voice it to the other person. But now it was out, and, of course, it had to be fixed, naturally by me.

I was worried Ariella was not going to be so into this idea, because even though the piercing didn't really hurt her, getting a new hole would mean having to wait another 3 weeks before wearing new earrings. What if she refused? Should I force her? Should I have 8-year-old Ariella be mad at me, or wait for the wrath of 15-year-old Ariella?

I spoke to her in the morning about it. She took the news well, especially since it meant I would pick her up early from tzaharon. We went to the store, the woman agreed it was off-center and gave us a discount on the new pair. (Of course, they were out of the kind she had picked originally, so instead of just paying for one earring and using the old one in her left ear, I had to buy a whole new pair.) Plus, she got a pair of dangly drop earrings for her birthday, as promised. The lady promised the old hole would close up quickly, and that she only has to wait two weeks before changing earrings.

On the whole, Ariella made out very well on this deal. And I got to breathe normally again. Plus, when Ariella's 15 and begs for another hole, I can tell her we already let her get three.

In Which I - Spoiler Alert! - Pass a Test

2011-05-12T11:18:00.000+03:00

The Modiin municipal pool has opened for the summer. It is right down the block from us. So close that even I may choose to walk there instead of drive. Anyway, notices went out a few weeks ago saying that the swimming season was opening on May 11 and memberships were limited.

I went to the pool's website to check out the prices. Last year, it opened so late (August), that you could buy tickets, but not a membership. I figured this is a city pool, the people's pool, if you will, so the prices are probably going to be reasonable, right?

(To me, "municipal pool" makes me think of the movie "The Sandlot." Also, when I couldn't for the life of me remember the name of the movie, I googled "movie baseball dog forever" - and The Sandlot was the first thing that came up! I love Google! Bing! I mean I love Bing! But really Google.)

Anyway, instead of making the prices reasonable, the powers that be said to themselves, Hey! Let's go ahead and make them unreasonable. About double what some of the nearby pools are. However, this one is, as I mentioned, down the block, so they had me by my tznius bathing suit sleeves. What could I do? I went in last week to see if I could get a membership.

(See, the whole "memberships are limited" thing totally works on me. I envision lines and lines of people, snaking around the block, from six in the morning until late at night, grabbing up all the memberships till there are none left. And I was determined to get my very expensive pool membership, by golly.)

So I go in and the woman beckons me to a chair. I tell her I want a membership and I am here with my credit card. But I do not see dollar signs in her eyes. Instead, she looks at me suspiciously.

"So, how much do you know about the pool? Everyone comes in wanting memberships but no one seems to know any information about it," she scolds, as if I'm applying for a job at McDonald's and forgot to research how many burgers they've served so far.

Well, I thought, I know how much your freakin' membership costs. That number is burned into my eyelids.

"For example," she continues, "when does our season end?"

Oooh, I knew that one!

"October," I answer confidently.

"Yes, October 22." Whoo hoo! I got the first question right! I love doing well on quizzes.

"And how many tashlumim (installments) can you pay in?" Now, this was irrelevant to me, because other than our mortgage, we do not pay in installments. (This was one of our first pieces of aliyah advice. Whenever they ask you if you want to pay in tashlumim, say NO!)

"Well, I don't want tashlumim. I want to pay it all at once."

This confounded her.

"Hmmm. Well, the answer is 2. You can pay in 2 installments."

She continued on with the barrage of questions. I was starting to sweat and my collar was feeling a bit tight.

"From what age do you need to pay for a child?"

Now this could have stumped me. I didn't think about this beforehand because I knew that the (almost) 8 year old and the 5-but-when-am-I-five-and-a-half year old for sure "counted" and I was fairly certain the (almost) one year old did not. So it was irrelevant to me, BUT I happened to see a sign on the way in stating that kids needed to be paid for from 3 and up.

"Three," I answered smugly. I felt a little bit like I had cheated, like I wrote the answer on my hand or something, but hey, whatever it takes, right?

"Good," Test Lady smiled at me. "You have passed the test! Now we will allow you to fork over your money to us!"

So that is how I had to pass a test in order to apply for pool membership. A moment as Israeli as Telma Cornflakes.

So, how was the party?

2011-05-08T19:17:00.002+03:00

I know you're all wondering: How was Yaakov's my-mom-is-crazy-and-agreed-to-invite-all-35-kids-in-gan birthday blowout bash?

Well, the short answer is that it's Over. And the next party I plan on throwing for him is his bar mitzvah.

That said, it really wasn't too bad. There was a ton of planning and purchasing that went into it, but it turned out well. The one upside to living in Dimri is that there's this "party room" in the lobby which is FREE to building residents! So we had the party there and I was spared having to clean the apartment BEFORE the party only to have to clean it again AFTER the party.

The entertainment - storyteller/magician/comedian - was great, and the kids mostly behaved themselves.

There were a few "moments" - like telling a group of 5 kids (boys and girls) that they could not all be in the bathroom at the same time, in, um, the prepratory stages for using the facilities. Or when a few of the wanderers - these were the kids that couldn't get themselves together to actually sit and participate, and instead wandered around the room - started pulling on the big helium balloon that was on Yaakov's chair and Yaakov saw (he was not in the chair at the time, but still) and began to cry.

Dinner - hot dogs - was a hit, although the kids who were "not hungry" used this as an opportunity to run around turning off the lights and use a chair to see if they could climb out the window. (The room is on the ground level, but still, I thought it prudent to stop them before their experiment reached its natural conclusion.)

Then it was time for singing, lifting Yaakov up on the chair, and feeding everyone cake. Yes, we did this the non-Israeli way, and served the cake during the party,instead of waiting for pick up and then, as the kids leave, handing them a piece of gooey chocolate cake on a flimsy napkin which they can smear all over their hands, their seatbelt, and their mothers.

And we finally got to shoe-donning time. Because somewhere, in the Israeli Birthday Party Constitution, it is written that upon arrival at a birthday party, every child must remove their shoes. I am not lying when I say there was about a foot of sand on the floor. (Well, maybe lying a little.)

Once shoes were donned, each child received a balloon animal, courtesy of our magician, and they spent the last few minutes attempting to maim each other using their latex swords. (Don't worry: No children were harmed in the production of Yaakov's birthday party.) But at that point, I was cool. The party was nearly over, and we had survived!

After cleaning up, I came upstairs to find Yaakov sitting in a sea of presents. (We told him ahead of time he needed to pick a few to donate to "aniyim." Do you think poor kids enjoy playing badminton?)

His favorite gift, by far, was a set of "Cars" cars. But of course, these were not, ahem, authorized reproductions. In fact, although it has the "Cars" logo design, instead of "Cars," it says something random, like "Spacesuits." But don't worry! Because the package promises me that these are "very funny, collect them all!"

And, in a piece of packaging poetry almost too eloquent for the cardboard it was written on,

"Once possess nothing can instead / The trump product, every body like / the best welcome gifts for the children."

I couldn't have said it better myself! No, really, I couldn't have!

Anyway, Yaakov is enjoying this "most newest choice." He also got a package of combat soldier dudes, so he can truly be like Toy Story's Andy. Although Ariella took one look at it and said, "Look! Somebody bought Nazis for Yaakov!"

No more Yom Hashoah discussions for you, young lady.

We're Back!

2011-05-05T09:34:00.003+03:00

I apologize for the dearth of posts recently. Donny's crazy in-laws were here, and you know how high-maintenance they are.

JUST KIDDING! I mean, Donny's crazy in-laws were here, but we loved having them and they really aren't high-maintenance at all. Just give Momz an Internet connection and Dadz a bed and they are very happy.

(A warning though - if you give a Dadz an internet connection, you'll have to give him a mouse, and if you give him a mouse, he'll need a pad to slide it on, and if you give him a pad to slide it on, it'll remind him of a coaster, so he'll need his cup of coffee, and when he drinks his coffee, he'll want something to go with it, like a rugelach, so he'll go out to the bakery, and when he goes out to the bakery, he'll suddenly remember that it's time for shul again, so he'll try to walk to shul, and when he walks to shul he wanders in circles for hours and gets very lost, then, because of all the wandering, he's tired. So he'll need a bed. Which is why it's easier to just start with the bed.)

Anyway, we got an extra week post-Pesach with Momz and Dadz aka Bubby and Zaidy which was super fun, especially the parts where we ate out. And especially the part where they stayed home with Yaakov and Nadav during Crazy Tuesday Chug Day so I was able to run out and get Ariella all by myself.

Also, I am happy to report that Nadav became best buds with Bubby and Zaidy and enjoyed many games of Tissue Shredding and Traffic Staring. He was sad to see them go.

In other news, things have been busy around here.

Ariella the Torah Scholar

We celebrated Ariella's siyum on Thursday night after Pesach. Ariella, as a proud member of the Coalition of Independent Brainiacs, decided to read through all the chumash (the first Five Books.) She would just sit there and read.

She finished a while ago but wanted to wait for Bubby and Zaidy's arrival to make her siyum. So we had a lovely siyum, complete with a Mishkan cake (since that was her favorite part. Mishkan, not cake.) And here I will give a shout-out to my talented cake-decorating friend, Chanina, who is also a fellow former Baltimorean, and if anyone needs cakes in the shape of a mishkan or anything else, sacrilegious or not, give her a call.

Interesting note: There was an amazing thunder and lightning storm last Thursday night. Do you think it's related to the fact that it coincided with us biting into the ohel moed?

Ariella Gets a Crash Course in the Holocaust

We were driving to Bet Shemesh (something about route 38 brings out the philosophical side in Ariella) on Yom Hashoah, and she started asking me lots of questions about it. We discussed:

Countries affected/not affected by the Shoah
Who started it
Difference between labor camps and extermination camps
How the Jews were killed
How they got to the concentration camps
Chasidei umot ha'olam (righteous gentiles - she learned about that in school)
Anne Frankel (aka Anne Frank)
How does a bullet kill someone
The ghettos
If Jews got food in the concentration camps
Which side won
How one side wins a war

For thirty minutes straight. And then thirty minutes on the way back. It was intense.

Yaakov piped up at one point:

"Mommy, I saw TWO cement twucks! And they waw mixing!" You can always count on Yaakov to keep it real.

Yaakov Turns Five - AGAIN!

Preparations continue for Yaakov's massive invite-all-the-gan birthday party, which is tonight, God willing. Of course, if God should will that the two hours between five and seven just disappear, I would be okay with that.

Pesach: The Abridged Version

2011-04-28T10:27:00.005+03:00

Well, soon Pesach will be just a distant memory. If it isn't already. Yaakov has been celebrating Lag B'Omer for a few days now. And I know you are all still wondering - how did aliyahbyaccident celebrate Pesach?

Well, it's like the pictures. In America, I used to buy prints fairly often, and of course I would buy tons. Because the picture of Yaakov holding the lulav is cute, and so is the picture of him holding the lulav AND etrog. Here, I have found it very difficult to buy prints, so I end up buying them once or twice a year. And when you only buy pictures every six months, suddenly you realize that, really, the one picture of all the kids with a lulav is all you need. (Not that you're not adorable Yaakov, with the arba minim or without.)

It's the same with blogging. Now that so much time has gone by since Pesach, I realize I don't need to bore you with every excruciating detail of every day. But I don't want to leave you hanging. So I present to you:

ABA's Pesach in ~~100~~ 200 Words or Less (Not Including the Title)

Shabbat Hagadol with extended Samson family in Ashkelon hotel. Family nice, but food Pesach. :P

Erev Pesach - Nadav scared of Bubby and Zaidy, so did prep with baby glued to my arms. Found and burned chametz. Goodbye chametz.

Seder – kids sang, very cute, had good time, everyone ate, drank and pointed (except when not supposed to.)

Wednesday – went to beach, big “happening” near beach. Lots of traffic – bad, but empty beach – good! First of many lunches of chips, veggies and ice cream. Left car lights on, dead battery, whoops. Steak and French fries for dinner. Mmmm.

Thursday – climbed Masada. Well, to cable cars. Climbed on ruins, Nadav played in dirt.

Friday – rained a little, went to Appalonia anyway. More ruin climbing and nice views. No one wants Pesach rolls anymore.

Shabbat – Yaakov turned 5 (English). “But we forgot to give out the invitations!” Birthday/birthday party confusion.

Sunday – Mini Israel. Climbed Masada again. Returned home for more cooking/cleaning.

Final – had matzah party as chag ebbed away. Then I sat on couch as Donny un-Pesached the house.

Tuesday – food shopping, bank, park Canada. Nadav played in dirt. Macaroni and cheese for dinner. Mmmmmm.

More Pesach Thoughts

2011-04-26T18:41:00.002+03:00

As much fun as it is to have to rid your house of matzah (and the fun quotient is indeed very, very low, pretty negligible, in fact), I am grateful that we do not have to rid the house of matzah before ROY (rest of year) begins.

Butt Cheerios are a pretty hardy and resilient species, but nothing clings to the clothes like matzah crumbs. There are crumbs residing in every inch (i.e. centimeter) of this apartment, despite the multiple sweepings and floor washings that occurred every day of Pesach. Every time I changed Nadav and unleashed an avalanche of teeny tiny matzah bits, I said a little "thank you" to God that He left it up to me this time to decide if I want to clean out every little crumb with a toothpick. (I do not, by the way.)

Although this switchover to ROY was confusing to some of the younger members of our household. Yaakov was aghast this morning that we drank the orange juice which stated very clearly that it was "kosher for Pesach."

Hello! We're down here, under all the matzah!

2011-04-24T08:25:00.004+03:00

Oh Loyal Readers, we at aliyahbyaccident have not abandoned you. We are just buried under the crunchy stuff. And eggs. LOTS of eggs. And intense Family Fun.

We hope to extricate ourselves soon, and regale you with the exhilarating tales of charoset, dead car batteries, Momz and DADZ, defying the rain, and more.

For now, I will leave you with just one thought.

I am not one of those people who's all like, Living in Israel is perfect! America is a terrible place to live!

I mean, I like a lot of things about America. Those baby carrots. Chex. Free banking. And English.

But I am so very, very, very happy for only one day of chag. Very very happy. Especially for only one seder. Very very very happy. Kind of makes up for having to do the Ashkenazi Kitniot Squint. And even though less chag means less time to squeeze in all of our Favorite Pesach Treats, it's a compromise I'm willing to make.

Anyway, now we are going to try and stick one last Family Fun Outing in between the final cooking and chag prep. Enjoy your last day(s)!

Donny's Pesach Granola

2011-04-15T11:16:00.007+03:00

Many (well, 2) of you asked for the recipe for Donny's Pesach granola cereal. This recipe comes from his grandmother on his mother's side.

Enjoy!

Pesach Granola Cereal

10-12 apples, grated
3 pounds (packages) of matzah – some whole wheat, some regular
¾ cup oil (hazelnut adds a nice flavor)
300-500 grams shredded coconut (if you use fresh, you need less because flavor is stronger. But then you need a hammer and an ice pick. And lots of time.)
2-3 tsp cinnamon
2-3 cups honey

Crush the matzah into small pieces. Mix in apples, coconut, oil and cinnamon.

Add honey in layers. First, spread a layer of matzah mixture on the bottom of a pan. Drizzle honey on top – don’t mix it in. Keep adding layers of matzah and honey. Bake at 180. It takes a few hours to cook completely. During the cooking process, “baste” the cereal – gently toss the cereal every 15-20 minutes as it cooks. This allows it to cook evenly.

Enjoy with milk! Dried cranberries are good also (add them when you eat, not during the cooking.)

Be warned: Making this before Pesach is very difficult because the children enjoy helping, but then you have to tell them they can’t eat any yet. Oof!

Those Crazy Sorta Pesach Days

2011-04-14T12:56:00.003+03:00

Well I did my pre-Pesach produce/dairy shopping at Rami Levi. I will be convalescing at home for the next week. Visitors are welcome, especially if they bring food.

Just kidding, of course! Who has time to convalesce when the contents of your kitchen cabinets are residing on your table, and you're trying to keep the chametz away from the matzah, the matzah away from the chametz, and Nadav away from everything?

Right now we are in Pesach limbo. The fridge has been cleaned, but there's still leftover non-Pesach food in there. The table is most definitely still chametz, but the kids come home and spread their beautiful Pesach projects on top of it. The toy boxes are cleaned, but Nadav crawls around with Cheerios stuck to his butt. There's Pesach food on the fridge, but don't put it on the counter!

And so it goes.

Alright, it is time to boil and burn our kitchen. See you on the other side.

91!

2011-04-12T20:48:00.002+03:00

We now have NINETY ONE readers! Wah hoo!

Celebration happening NOW, at our place. Come on by - all the barley and croutons you can eat!

(Ben & Jerry's Free Cone Day has got NOTHING on ABA's Free Cupful 'O Barley Day...)

Clothes Shopping: An Update

2011-04-11T14:18:00.004+03:00

Well, folks, I know you are wondering how my sponge dress is coming along. And I am happy to report that I have halted production on my new invention. Because today, Loyal Readers (all 89 of you), I found clothing! That's right!

I went to this store called Discreet. I had passed it a few times before but assumed it sold, well, discreet things. You know, little tiny items made mostly out of lace and bits of string. So I never went in. But today I saw that it's actually a clothing store.

And, thanks to the wonderful world of blogging, especially the advice of Commenter Abbi, I went into armed with two bits of knowledge:

1. Get the ladies to help you

2. If you believe you can pull it off, you can (the look, not the clothing. The clothing itself, you have to be able to actually pull off.)

So I accepted help and the lady found me all sorts of wonderful clothing that I would have otherwise passed by, and much much much money later, I walked out with a bagful of clothing. I (somewhat) justified the expense by reminding myself that I am no longer five and do not grow out of my clothes every six months.

(Every February, Yaakov sports the "Oliver" look, because the pants I bought him in October are two inches above his ankle.)

I even bought a dress! The last time I wore a dress, it had a million tiny buttons down the back. And Donny had a lot more hair.

So this is very exciting news, plus we've regained our sponges for dish-cleaning purposes.

A Loss and a Lack

2011-04-10T20:02:00.006+03:00

Something unprecedented has happened. It has never happened before in the history of aliyahbyaccident, which is why I said that "something unprecedented has happened."

We lost a Loyal Reader. Yesterday, we had 90. Today, 89. That's right. Someone deliberately unReadered us! I was planning a whole celebratory 90-Loyal Reader post, but now, it is all for naught. Well, Loyal Reader #90, I hope you are happy out there, in Aliyaybyaccident-less Land. I hope you have found what you are looking for, something more fulfilling, perhaps, to read in your spare time while you should be working. We were glad to fill the role of "the thing I am doing instead of the thing I am supposed to be doing," for however long it lasted. Goodbye, and remember, if you ever come back, we will welcome you with open arms, because we, at aliyahbyaccident, do not hold grudges. For too long, anyway.
**************

In other news, dinner for this week will consist of a quarter of a lasagna. That's all that's left after the kids ate tonight. Not quite enough left for Donny and me. Certainly not enough for leftovers.

Unless ....we supplement! With all the yummy things sitting out on the counter since we cleaned the pantry for Pesach!

How about lasagna with....
....rice?
....a single frozen tilapia fillet? (Okay that one's not sitting out on the counter.)
....barley?
....a peanut butter chocolate chip granola bar?
....tea?
....oatmeal?
....croutons and a side of ketchup?

Is your mouth watering yet?

It looks like we did too good of a job eating up our chametz before Pesach. 'Cuz there's still one week to go and by the looks of it, we'll be slurping down tuna-popcorn shakes by the time we're through.

Clothes Shopping

2011-04-06T20:50:00.003+03:00

I know, I probably turned many of you off right there, with the title. Clothes shopping! [Shudder.]

Well, recently I endeavoured to accomplish the above activity. Here's the catch - not for my children. For myself. I know! Crazy talk! But, see, I have only one skirt for Shabbat. I wear it every week, all Shabbat. I bought it around Sukkot time because I realized that post-Nadav, the choices were:
a. not breathe or
b. buy a new skirt

So, being such a big fan of oxygen, I bought a new skirt, but this beloved skirt has gone through a lot and now is all pilly and falling apart.

I thus set out on a quest to find a new skirt. A simple, straight, black/dark grey skirt. However, finding a new skirt that both fits AND looks nice - what can I say, I aim high - is quickly becoming a Herculean task. Only Hercules HAD skirts that fit him. Figures.

My go-to shop, Lord Kitsch, had nothing, though I doggedly check back every few days in case they suddenly receive a shipment of clothes with my name on them. ("I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't sell this to you. See here, it's clearly marked, 'Gila.'")

The other stores I went to had one of 2 problems:

1. They are, as my good friend David Silverstein would say, "dipped in chummus," meaning super-duper Israeli. You know the kind I'm talking about. Those big, swooshy skirts with layers and gathers and different fabrics and patterns that a Real Israeli can totally pull off and look gorgeous, but most of us imports try to wear it and it looks like we patched together an outfit using old wallpaper samples.

The other problem is the fabric. All these skirts are made of this clingy soft fabric. Now, I don't know about you people, but I am bumpy! And over the years, especially after the growing of and giving birth to 3 children (who, incidentally, have no problems finding clothing), I have only gotten bumpier. So this clingy soft fabric, it, well, clings. Am I the only person in Israel who does not want something clinging to all the bumps??????

2. Shop #2 is frummy. One needs to travel all the way to Kiryat Sefer to find these stores, but since one also needs plastic Shabbos sponges, one was heading there anyway. So I head into the store. Everything is all one color - black. Mixed in with a little grey. Perfect, I thought. Surely my skirt is hiding here. But these skirts all come with stuff. Belts, buttons, pleats, belts and pleats, buttons and belts, belted pleated buttons, you get the idea. These skirts are clearly meant to be paired with a button down shirt, tucked in.

And I am NOT a tucking-in kind of girl. Only in my Bais Yaakov days, where an untucked shirt led to a fine, did I tuck. Because if there's one thing I hate more than tucking, it's getting in trouble.

But lo these many years, I do not tuck. And if you do not tuck, you can't have belt buckles and buttons poking through your shirt. It just adds to the bumps. Remember those?

I'm considering fashioning an outfit out of the 6 packages of Shabbos sponges I bought. Thoughts?

Yay! Boo!

2011-04-04T14:13:00.004+03:00

Some of the yays and boos of the last few days:

Yaakov had his gan birthday party on Friday. (5 years old, for those keeping track. He will turn 5 at least two more times before birthday season is out.)....Yay!

I got my wisdom tooth taken out....Boo!

But that gave me an excuse to buy an iced coffee (it's cold!) and a ma'afe (it's soft!) from Aroma....Yay!

We started Pesach cleaning......Yay!

Still so much more to do.....Boo!

We're being very good about using up all of our food before Pesach....Yay!

There's nothing to eat in the house.....Boo!

Yesh (the supermarket in Kiryat Sefer I visit once a year before Pesach) did NOT have those round plasticky Shabbos sponges....Boo!

The cheapy homegoods store in Kiryat Sefer DID have the matching fruit plates to go with our fruit bowls, so now we have milchig plates for Pesach....Yay!

After said Pesach shopping trip to Kiryat Sefer, with my Tired friend:

Tired,after filling up about half her cart, announced, "Well, I pretty much got everything [non-perishable] I needed."

Then there was me,throwing my entire body against the overflowing cart in the hopes that it will move under the weight of jelly, ketchup, matzah and sugar, and knowing I barely dented the list.....Yay! (for Tired)/Boo! (for me)

But I did buy MANY bags of KFPLLCHK* chips.....Yay!

Nadav found Bamba in the garbage and promptly began munching on it...Yay? Boo? You decide.

My shopping expedition today (for myself) was mostly unsuccessful.....Boo!

My shopping expedition today (for my children) was mostly successful....Yay!

*I hope you know what this stands for.

There's Plenty of Time Left!

2011-03-31T05:45:00.003+02:00

Here is the list of everything I've done for Pesach so far.
1.
2.
3.

Impressive, no?

I'm usually not the last minute type. But since Purim (the official start of Pesach Thoughts; starting earlier than that is simply madness. The only person I know who began Pesach cooking and cleaning before Purim is my grandmother, A'H, who had a second oven in her basement and would have the (homemade) gefilte fish cooked by Tu B'Shvat.)

What was I saying? Yes, Purim. Since Purim, someone has been sick (Yaakov, who shared with Nadav, who shared with me, I haven't really slept so much in ~~a week~~ ~~10 months~~ ~~7.5 years~~ a while), and I've been busy with actual work. Like the kind I get paid for. Because so far, I have not been hired as the Rose Family Pesach Coordinator. It's more of a volunteer position.

Anyway, I did finally get around to at least opening my Pesach documents. The cleaning list, the shopping list, and our notes that we keep from year to year to remind ourselves not to buy yet another cheese grater.

This year, the helpful notes reminded me that: "The cord for the hot water pot is in the soup pot." Good to know! Don't worry, there's not soup in the soup pot also. At least not yet. Hopefully the cord will be taken out by then.

Also, "Tell Rachel about Aviv Wheat Bran Matza." Rachel, consider yourself told.

So that's a start. It would help things if I could stick Nadav in a bubble and just roll him around for the next two weeks (two weeks left? Who said that?) so he doesn't leave a trail of the ground up bits of former food that always seem to be stuck to him.

Wait! I did something else! On Monday I am planning to take the kids for sandals! See? I mean, you can't chew on sandals at the seder (there are for sure kitniot in them), but it's something!

Ha! Looks like the Rose Family Pesach Coordinator is back in action!

Bad Mommy (yet again)

2011-03-28T20:48:00.005+02:00

Well, Nadav is crying in his crib. He has a nasty cold. ("Now With Extra Snot!") We tried everything - holding, rocking, bringing him out onto the mirpeset so he can look at traffic (usually a sure-fire calmer-downer, but nay, nay this night, my friends.) So, my motto is, if he's gonna scream no matter what, might as well let him scream in his crib.

Of course, thanks to my trusty news source (Facebook, natch), crying it out is soooo not in vogue anymore. In fact, if we let our children cry themselves to sleep, we are - let me make sure I'm getting this right - teaching them that the world, as represented by their parents, is a cruel, heartless, and uncaring place. And when they finally do fall to sleep after a screaming bout, it's not that they've learned to comfort themselves, oh no, it's that their brain actually shuts down due to the overwhelming pain of abandonment!

Overwhelming pain of abandonment! Wow! This makes all my other parental transgressions seem so minor now! Letting them eat cereal for dinner? Not really paying attention to their highly intricate stories and just making "hmmm" noises every so often? Bribery, threats, general neglect? That's all nothing compared with the overwhelming pain of abandonment! I'm so glad I have something so dramatic and profound to inflict on my poor unsuspecting children. And something else to feel guilty about! Oh, truly this is a joyous day!

...Wait! Where are you going with my Parent of the Year trophy? Get back here now!

A Question to Ponder

2011-03-22T20:01:00.005+02:00

Purim. It is now over. It was so exhausting to live through it - in a "baruch Hashem" kind of way, but still - that I cannot possibly rehash it without having to take a nap in the middle.

So I leave you with this question:

Why is the death of Vashti not actually mentioned in the megillah?

Never does it say, "And lo, Ahaseaurus [or something] killedeth his wife, Vashti, for she listened to him not. No, ye, she verily did not listen to Ahaseurus. And soeth, he said thusly to her, 'Vashti, my wifeth, I shall slay you now.' 'Oh yeah?' did Vashti respond to the king, 'That's what you thinketh, Aha--' And so Vashti died, and is it not recorded thisly in the Chronicles?" *

We've got a whole bloodbath later on - Hangings! Mass killings! Dead bad guys! - but the death that was the catalyst for the entire story? It's just "implied?" How do I know she was really killed and not just voted off the castle? I need closure!

So why is this so, oh Learned Loyal Readers?

* I know what you're thinking - King James totally would have hired me!

A Thought

2011-03-22T10:41:00.002+02:00

Discuss: Baby sherpas.
(No, not little babies that carry your stuff up Mt. Everest.)
You hire a guy (or a gal) to shlep your baby around on hikes.
Great idea, brilliant idea, or inspired idea? You decide.

Guess What It's Time For?

2011-03-16T11:27:00.004+02:00

Well, it looks like enough time has passed for me to collect some more random thoughts and present you with another edition of Ramblings! Maybe one of these days I'll do a "Best of Ramblings" post.

1. Tzitzit. We reward little boys who have (sort of) mastered using the toilet by presenting them with something that makes their newly acquired skill really, really difficult to do. Raise your hand if you have ever witnessed a small boy doing a frantic pee pee dance while attempting to remove his tzitzit.

2. I would like someone to invent a Weasley clock, but for shul. For those muggles among you, the Weasley clock was a device in the Harry Potter books which told where each member of the family was at all times. So the hand would move to "traveling" for example, when Mr. Weasley was on his way home. Ahhh, good old Mr. Weasley. Love that guy. But I digress.

How great would it be if we had a clock at home that told us what they were up to in shul? So you could plan exactly when to leave in order to get there for the important parts (adon olam and kiddush)?

"Haftorah - time to get dressed!"

"Oh - finished kedushah! Time to leave!"

I would have paid large sums of money on Simchat Torah if I knew when there were at hakafah #4, so we could get to shul with just enough time to dance a little and go under the tallit for Kol HaNearim. Instead, I never plan correctly, and we're either rushing and sweaty or get there way, way too early. Not sure which is worse. (Also, I haven't exactly been to shul in months, but that's another post.)

3. There are two new blogs on the blogroll. One is by none other than MOMZ, who started a new blog called "diettalk." No, that's not "Die, Talk!" as I originally thought. It's "Diet Talk." Momz is on a diet because she needs to have lots of energy for when she and DADZ move to Israel and watch our kids on weekends so we can fly to Paris and stuff. Right, Momz?

Then there is Isreview, in which our intrepid Reviewer tastes new products on the Israeli market and tells us all about them. Be thankful that Daniela has tasted the new "sour krembo" so you don't have to.

4. The Chanukah miracle on Purim: We manage to take a holiday of only one day and make it last a whole month!

Gotta run! Time for dinner!

The Mystery of ToTh

2011-03-11T09:48:00.002+02:00

I think it's time we cleared up the facts and myths surrounding ToTh.

Q. What is ToTh, exactly?
A. ToTh, or, more accurately, the Festival of Toth, is a weekly holiday celebrated every Thursday night with takeout. Hence, the name: "To" = takeout; "Th" = Thursday.

Q. When was ToTh started?
A. Our sages instituted the Festival of Toth when they made aliyah. It was brought down that in galut, when Sunday was a vacation day, the husband would often take care of Sunday night dinner, thereby giving his righteous wife a break from the cooking.

However, upon arrival in Eretz Yisrael, Sunday was suddenly a working day. Which meant the righteous wife had to prepare dinner Sunday night. Which the righteous wife was not at all pleased about. So she said thusly to her husband: "I needeth a night off. I hereby declare it shall be Thursday night. You shalleth prepare dinner on Thursday. However, you may not cook or get my kitcheneth dirty at all." The husband was left with no choice but to order takeout.

Q. Thank you for that insightful history lesson. Who decides what is for ToTh?
A. You're welcome. And the decision rests entirely with the husband. The righteous wife wants nothing to do with dinner. The husband decides, orders (or picks up, if he shall so decide it shall be Ofer's Falafel, for they do not delivereth), pays, and cleans up.

Q. Are the children included in the Festival of ToTh?
A. Hold on one moment. I must get down on the floor and rolleth around, convulsing in hysterical fits of laughter.
The answer to that is no. Usually, the children are asleep (unless one is reorganizing the contents of her tik, which seems to be a thrice-weekly activity) when the husband arrives home. They ate their Thursday night "dinner" consisting of yogurt or oatmeal hours before. Why spend money on takeout food for children who are happy with oatmeal and yogurt, I asketh you???

Q. Do you celebrate ToTh when Donny is away?
A. Yes. Obviously I have to be maykil and do the deciding and ordering myself. But if I don't, my choices for dinner are oatmeal and yogurt.

Q. Can ToTh be celebrated any other day?
A. Excellent question. Occasionally, ToTh is celebrated on Shabbat, in which case it becomes ToSh. Once in a while ToMaSh is celebrated. But ToS, ToM, ToT, and ToW are celebrated only on very rare occasions. A sage must be consulted in those cases.

Q. What dress is appropriate for ToTh?
A. Pajamas. Duh.

Q. Thank you so much for explaining this holiday so clearly. I feel like I am truly ready now to accept the Festival of ToTh upon myself.
A. It's our pleasure. Amen amen amen.

Middle-of-the-Week Ramblings

2011-03-07T14:08:00.003+02:00

Ramblings: Good any time of day or night!

The Mozzarella That Wasn't
Last week, I purchased 1.5 containers of shredded mozzarella from a supermarket chain, which I shall not name, but let's just say it rhymes with Shami Zevi. I was going to use this cheese in my lasagna, which holds a special place in our home as a Dinner Which Everyone In the Family Eats That is Not Pizza or Ice Cream. I like buying shredded cheese from this particular store because they have big bowls of it already shredded, so no need to wait.

However, as I was sprinkling the cheese on the lasagna, I noticed it was very fine. And not in a "Oh, that cheese is f-i-i-i-n-e" sort of way. I checked the sticker on the container. It said mozzarella. However, when I tasted it, it was most definitely parmesan. I was a bit disappointed because, much as I like parmesan, I didn't really think it would work on lasagna. So we had "noodles with sauce and parmesan" for dinner instead. I was considering going and complaining (for about half a second, till I realized it would involve leaving my house), and then I saw that I had been charged the cheaper mozzarella price for 1.5 containers of the more expensive parmesan. I could just hear the conversation:

Me: You sold me parmesan instead of mozzarella. I would like to register a complaint.
Cheese Dude: I sold you parmesan and charged you only for mozzarella? That will be 26.50 NIS, please.

So I decided to just keep the cheese and find some creative uses for it. Maybe build a ski slope for the Little People.

Pajama Girl, The Sequel
After all my bragging about how Ariella's Purim costume was going to be so easy, because she was going to be pajama girl, they decided this year, in her school, to have pajama day on Wednesday! Nooooooo! However, Ariella told me she could still do pajama girl for Purim - she'll just wear different pjs. That's my girl! Let's hope she doesn't change her mind erev Purim when all the costumes are sold out and she's forced to dress up as Contents of the Hamper.

Critical Thinking from Yaakov
After reading "Dirah L'Haskir" (a classic Israeli children's book, in which there is a vacancy in an apartment and different animals come to look at it and decide whether or not they want to live there), Yaakov informed me, "This story can't really happen. Because the nemala (ant) is walking instead of crawling!" So, the whole talking-animals-renting-apartments thing is totally cool, but an upright ant? Could never happen! The inner workings of Yaakov's brain. I will never truly understand them, but they make things interesting.

Time to Play: Where in the World is Donny?
Traveling once again, to Seattle. But fear not. Grey's Anatomy has been downloaded, and my box of Cocoa Krispies has been purchased. Donny who?

In Which I am Rejected

2011-03-03T12:51:00.004+02:00

Many moons ago, there was a call for submissions to an Israeli English-language magazine. They were putting out their first humor edition and wanted articles that were, you know, humorous. So I figured I would submit something. The editors at aliyahbyaccident and I sifted through numerous posts until we found one we thought was humorous enough. We fixed it up and sent it off. I got an email saying that they received my submission and would let me know February time whether I had been accepted.

Well, I received the following email this week. (Note: Names have been changed to keep the identities private. Because if I put in the actual names of the magazine or its so-called "editors," then LISA might do good on her promise to hunt them down and shake them really hard.)

Gila,

The editorial board of Pretentious Humor has discussed all the submissions, and
we are sorry to say that we did not find the material you submitted appropriate
for a spot in this particular issue. ("Appropriate?" I promise that my article contained very little nudity and no cursing.)

This is not meant to disparage your work. (We hate your article, but please don't take offense.) There is work we are not publishing which may be quite wonderful in a different context, (for example, if you were to shred it and hide little candies in it for children to find) or in the eyes of different editors (like ones with a functioning sense of humor; ours got flushed down the toilet. Hee hee, toilets!). Rather it is to say that we did not unanimously (one guy liked it, so we offed him) find these particular submissions congruent with our own vision of an issue devoted to Israeli humor. (As you can see, we are serious about our humor, because we use snobby words like "congruent" and "vision" and "issue." (Well, I guess that last one's okay.))

We sincerely hope you will submit to future issues of Pretentious Humor (because we get such a kick out of rejecting people!) And we wish you great success in the future. (Not as a writer, God no, but perhaps you would make a lovely throw pillow.)

Sincerely, the Bombastic (yes, I looked up that word myself) Editors of Pretentious Humor

But I'm okay with the rejection. I mean, my own editors at aliyahbyaccident LOVE me. They publish all my articles, even the ones with the lowbrow humor and cheap shots. Especially those. So don't worry that we will wallow in despair and shrivel up and stop producing the quality, quality blog posts you have come to love and expect from aliyahbyaccident. We will soldier on. Because, by golly, stuff happens in this world. And we will be there to laugh at it.

A Top Ten List!

2011-02-28T13:46:00.005+02:00

When thinking about blog topics, I came across some list somebody posted. I thought, hey, everyone loves a list! A top-ten list! What fun! Unfortunately, I lost my invitation to the Oscars (again! How annoying!), so I can't present you with a top-ten best/worst dressed list.

Instead, I give you:

Top Ten Thoughts That Flew Into My Head As I Was Writing This!

1. Here is what aliyahbyaccident looks like if you forgot to press alt+shift after typing in Hebrew:
שךןטשינטשבבןגקמא

2. Why is it that I never forget to wash but I always forget to bentch?

3. I am seriously considering throwing the children big old invite-the-40-million-kids-in-your-class birthday parties. We keep pushing them off. But we may have to just do it. In fact, Yaakov didn't ask, "Can I have a birthday party?" It was, "For my birthday party, should we invite the whole gan or just the boys?" Don't worry, I'll probably outsource the fun to someone who can conjugate verbs without a cheat sheet. Expensive, yes; less traumatic for my children (and for me), definitely.

4. I am sooooo happy that Ariella always missed "pajama day" in gan - for some reason, they never did it during her gan years. Why am I happy? Because to make up for this injustice, she has decided to do "pajama girl" for Purim this year. And we already have the costume! 'Cuz it's pajamas, get it? The only thing I purchased was a 20 shekel pair of slippers. To quote Chandler, "Could this be any easier?" And although Yaakov had his heart set on Spider/Bat/Superman, when those costumes were nearly 200 shekel, he was perfectly happy with the "neenja" costume for only 80.

5. Having been a customer at 2 banks, I am qualified to ask this question: Why do you all have TWO comfy seats behind the glass, when you only ever have ONE person working there???

6. I will never understand bread. Who figured out, "Hey, let's take this disgusting-tasting stalk, grind it up, mix it up with water and a living organism called yeast, let it rise, bake it, and see what happens? Whaddya say?" But I am thankful for him, whoever he is. Also for his friend, who figured out that if he milks a cow, shakes it (the milk, not the cow) around real fast, and spreads the resulting concoction on bread (preferably warm), it will taste really, really good.

7. No matter what clothing size my children are, that's the size they're out of during sale season.

8. All too often I stride purposefully in a certain direction, only to stop suddenly in the middle of a room and gaze around cluelessly, with absolutely no idea what I was planning to do. Sometimes there's a spatula in my hand. At that point it's easiest to just sit down and read a magazine.

9. On a related note, while I was washing dishes I had two thoughts to share on this list. By the time I got to the computer, I forgot both of them. I can assure you, though, that they were hilarious.

10. Shoot. It's really bugging me that I can't remember those two thoughts. Bugging me in that vague way things bother you when you have an idea and forget them two seconds later. Like, I feel the thought rolling around in the back of my head, and my fingers just aren't long enough to reach in there and grab them. Or some less icky analogy. Arggghhh. I promise to post an addendum if I ever think of them.

Fashionista

2011-02-22T09:32:00.003+02:00

What to blog about?

Everyone on the blog roll is rolling out new blogs.

But I didn't get a dog (though I do promise my Tired friend to keep my snarky dog comments to myself. Well, mostly).

I didn't make tuna casserole.

The only thing that inspires me to cook at home rather than take the kids out to pizza or burgers is the thought of bringing a 9 month old to a restaurant [shudder.]

I am not starting a new job, a new diet, or a new blog.

So here I sit.

However, I will share with you a parenting thought, which will surely be included in my upcoming seminal book on child-rearing, "Leave Me Alone So I Can Read the Paper/Old Copies of People and Entertainment Weekly."

So, as many of you know - SPOILER ALERT! - kids grow up.

And Ariella is definitely doing this whole "growing up" thing. It's evidenced in the homework, the sleepovers, the running into school with friends without a backwards glance to a frantically waving mommy, the 'tude, the arranging her own social calendar, the dependence (mine on her), the ability to share a knowing glance with her, the sense of humor that, while still heavily reliant on "things that come out of our bodies," can appreciate more subtle forms as well.....

But I breathe a sigh of relief that there is at least one thing standing in the way of us and full-on tweenhood: Fashion sense.

Ariella loves to wear things that "match," so will come out of her room decked out in all manner of pink, for example - pink shirt, pink skirt, pink leggings, pink socks. Not necessarily complementary shades of pink either. She doesn't quite understand why a brown shirt with a brown skirt isn't the height of fashion (though she fondly recalls the day, a few years ago, when Donny dressed Yaakov in that combo, and I told him that Yaakov looked like a large piece of dirt.) She wore the same exact purple shirt and denim skirt two days in a row because after the first day, she and her BFF decided to wear their matching purple shirts and denim skirts the next day.

Or she decides to wear her crew socks over her leggings, because with her ankle socks, some skin shows and it's cold out, Mommy!

Once, I considered telling her that crew socks over leggings might look a little funny, but then I thought, So what? She picked it out herself, she'll be warm, she's independent, she's happy... and I'm happy because somehow, her sense of fashion reminds me that under the homework, the 'tude, and the friends, she gets to be little for a little while longer.

It's Almost Shabbat, Do You Know Where YOUR Shnitzel Is?

2011-02-18T14:15:00.003+02:00

Erev Shabbat: The oldest and youngest are napping, and the short-ish ones are watching a movie. The chicken is cooking, and the other little erev Shabbat things that are left to do can't be done yet - according to law, they must be done immediately before Shabbat, so we can all rush around and yell and throw things. (I exaggerate. A little.) So, time to blog.

1. After a week of marathon birthday parties (i.e. carpooling), I ended the week on a much more fun note - I went out on a date with a cute guy. What's his name again? He's the one who occasionally shows up here to eat and sleep and drink wine. Not necessarily in that order. Ziv, I think he calls himself.

We celebrated by going out to a fancy restaurant in Jerusalem. (Gabriel's.) The celebration? All birthdays and anniversaries since 2009, the last time we went out. And because it's a bloggy, bloggy world, our babysitter was none other than Tali, daughter of Baila. For her commission, Baila received the Golden Globes edition of People magazine. Enjoy it Baila, it was a good one.

2. Ariella and I are learning about the mishkan for her project at school. Every kid has to pick a topic and present to the class about it. Ariella's date is in a month, so we figured it was time to get cracking. Also, she was driving me crazy, asking, "When can we start my חוקר צעיר?"

As we were studying a diagram of the mishkan, she wanted to know if the "חצר" was where the kids could play. I explained that it's not that kind of chatzer and it was considered kadosh as well. She wanted to know exactly where the mommies and daddies davened and where the kids played.
("And ye shall build for yourselves a slide, 4 amot high and 3 amot long, covered inside and out in yellow plastic.")

3. Yaakov came home from a birthday party last night and informed me there had not been dinner. When asked if he would like something to eat, he gave us a strange look. "No," he said, his face smeared in chocolate, "I had lots of, you know, mamtakim and junk food." Dinner? We don't need no stinkin' dinner!

4. For all those concerned about Nadav's hair, it is growing back. Unfortunately, it is growing up instead of out. Oh well.

Speaking of which, one of the sleeping beauties is requesting that I come rescue him from his room. I'll let you guess which one that is.

Late Night Post

2011-02-15T00:34:00.002+02:00

Well, while I am up waiting to see if Nadav will fall asleep or, in fact, will continue to cry until the morning hours (Pick him up! Cry it out! Dance a jig!), I will update you on the latest ramblings.

1. [Though perhaps this should be numbered "0," as you will see...]
Yaakov firmly believes that the original Toy Story movie is called "Toy Story Zero." It does not have a number attached to it; ergo, it is number zero. He follows this thought to its logical conclusion: We own Toy Story Zero, Toy Story Two, and Toy Story Three. For some reason, we don't have Toy Story One. But it's out there. Oh yes, it is out there.

2. Last week, I bragged publicly on Facebook that for once, the stars aligned and the birthday party (for Yaakov) was on the same night as the chug (for Ariella). Which meant only ONE night of shlepping small children to and fro.

Well, for those who like to see the bad guy (me, in thise case) get their comeuppance, I am comeupped big time this week.

Sunday night, Ariella was invited to a pajama party (5:00 - 7:00)
Tuesday night, Ariella has chug and Yaakov has a birthday party (4:15 - 6:25/5:00 - 7:00)
Thursday night, Yaakov has a birthday party HERE and Ariella has a birthday party alllllll the way over THERE (5:00 - 7:00 / 5:00 - 7:00. It is going to be the Amazing Race, Modiin-style, starring me and my intrepid partner, Nadav "Party All Night Long" Rose. I hope we win.)

3. I would like to point out 2 new blogs on the blogroll - Cooking Manager and Healthy Morsel. These are written by experienced bloggers Hannah, of A Mother in Israel Fame and Arica "Factor" Saltzman, of Our Life, respectively. (I have always wanted to use "respectively." Check that off the list.) Both blogs have tips for healthy eating, complete with recipes. And of course are completely endorsed by aliyahbyaccident.
I, too, shall be jumping on the food blog bandwagon. My new blog will be entitled CocoaKrispiesforDinner. Stay tuned.

Oh Shoko, My Shoko

2011-02-10T15:02:00.003+02:00

An ode to shoko b'sakit
You are my favorite Israeli treat
Warm brown color, taste so sweet
Just don't drink it after meat

Your little bag, so full and cold
Tempting me...okay, I'm sold
I put you in my hand to hold
A swishing pocket of liquid gold

I drink it down, don't stop for air
Gettin' hard to breathe, but I don't care
To part with a drop is hard to bear
So get your own, 'cuz I don't share

And now it's gone, it's done, the end
No more time together can we spend
To the shoko-less abyss I do descend
Until we meet again, my friend

**This blog is dedicated to my Tired friend, who said, "I wanted to link to your post about shoko b'sakit, but you don't have one! How can that be?" Consider the problem rectified.

Immigrant Parent Strikes Again!

2011-02-08T14:09:00.003+02:00

Some of you may be familiar with Immigrant Parent. Some of you may even be Immigrant Parent.

Immigrant Parent asks your son's friend if he would "rotzah" something to drink.

Immigrant Parent understands only every other word that the teacher/ganenet is saying (and only every 3rd word if it's after 8:30 PM.)

Immigrant Parents' children have to teach them the classic kids' songs, instead of the other way around.

Well, Immigrant Parent struck with force today.

For about a week, Ariella has been telling me she needs a picture of "Amnon and Tamar." I brushed her off, not quite understanding, but today she tells me, "Mommy, tomorrow is 'partani' (enrichment class in school). I need to get a picture and do research today."

Now, I don't know about you, but where I was educated, we don't learn those stories in Tanach in which the characters might be viewed in an unfavorable light. For example, Rachav was, and always will be, an "innkeeper" and we just completely skipped from chapter 37 to 39 in Breishit. (I will give you all a second to check what was in chapter 38.)

So I was very surprised that Ariella was learning about the story of Amnon and Tamar. Especially since last week the topic in her class was bunnies. How did we jump from there to here? The connection seemed destined to lead me to some very weird places.

And I was even more surprised that her teacher was asking for a picture of this. Wow, she really does go to a progressive school, I thought.

Anyway, I sat her down and tried to explain the difficulty of this assignment. "Maybe your teacher meant Yehuda and Tamar?" I asked; though the story is equally as, um, delicate, at least it's in Breishit, which is what they're learning. "I mean, Amnon and Tamar is a story from Navi. And I'm not sure what your teacher means by getting a picture of it...."

"Mommy," Ariella explained patiently, "Amnon v'Tamar is a flower."

Q. What Do Web Writing and Haircuts Have in Common?

2011-02-06T19:25:00.005+02:00

A. They should both be short!

************************************

Today my Tired friend and I had a web writing training session with Web Writer/Content Strategist/Web Contenter/Writing Strategist/Strategic Contenter Extraordinaire Ahava. (Who can also be found here - 10 poofahs if you can find me!)

We learned much, and I hope I actually remember some of it going forward. That would be nice. One thing I did learn is that my blog is not very SEO-friendly. In fact, it is downright unfriendly. Sometimes, my blog just slaps SEO upside the head, for no reason at all.

In any case, I don't do important SEO things like "label" and "tag" and "link." In fact, you will actually see this sentence many times in the blog: "I would link to it but I'm too lazy."

But that's okay with us. You see, we at aliyahbyaccident just like to make fun of stuff. We don't care, really, if lots and lots of people read the blog, or if it's just Momz and DADZ, who is usually a week behind but always catches up. We don't need the "spiders" to "find" us.

I mean, it is important to us to be #1 in "traifin' up the kitchen" - we still are, by the way - but other than that, our "raison d'etre" (that is French for "hors d'ouevre") is just to write stuff that is hopefully funny. Sometimes, we are the only people who find it funny! And that's okay too!

It's Cuttin' Time

In other news, Nadav "Shaggy" Rose was in need of a haircut. You may recall that he already had his first haircut. (I would link to it, but I'm too lazy.)

But hair has a way of continuing to grow, darn it, so a few months later, it was falling into his eyes again. On erev Shabbat, Donny gave him an uneven haircut. As Shabbat was "coming in" (Heblish strikes again), I didn't have time to take a photograph of the lopsided hairdo, unfortunately.

Now, I didn't particularly care that it was uneven and rather dorky looking. The kid's (almost) 9 months old. His social life consists of chatting with the Little People, who are no great shakes in the haircut department either.

But it bothered Donny a great deal - yes, I know those of you who know Donny are just shocked - so after Shabbat, he grabbed his razor and gave Nadav his first military-ish style haircut. Not quite as buzzed as Yaakov, but still pretty short.

What do you think?

Before:

After:

How Nadav and I Are Different

2011-01-31T14:53:00.003+02:00

Nadav: Waaaaah! I am in my crib and they are leaving me all alone! They're closing the door! I'm all by myself! Waaaaaah!!!

Me: Ahhh..... I am in my bed and they are leaving me all alone! They're closing the door! I'm all by myself! Ahhhhhh.....

Kupait Syndrome and Other Ramblings

2011-01-28T09:01:00.003+02:00

An Award-Winning Blog
First, a number of Loyal Readers have wished us congratulations on receiving an award, which you can see on the right-hand side of the page. Full Disclosure: We were not exactly the only winner of this award. We were among dozens of others who won the "Expat Arrivals" award.

However, I do believe that I am correct in saying that we are the only accidental blog to receive the award. I did not notice any other blogs entitled, "Moved to Kenya By Accident." Or, "I'm Living In Ireland - How'd the Heck Did I Get Here?" So we are special, in that regard.

Weather News
Well we have been having some fabulous weather here. The rain is supposed to arrive, thank God, next week. Which is good, because otherwise we were going to have to start washing our hair with our own spit.

Kupait Syndrome
So I’m in the mall. I see someone. She looks soooo familiar. How do we know each other? Shul? No. School? No. Gosh, where do I know her from? Then it hits me. She’s a kupait at Rami Levi. Or she’s the nurse at Maccabi, the secretary at the doctor’s office, the pharmacist at MaccabiPharm.

This is what I call Kupait Syndrome. In Riverdale, there was little chance of running into the checkout lady anywhere else but the checkout aisle. But here in Modiin, we’re all one big happy family. But it is very jarring to see Intense Israeli Pharmacist Lady drinking a coffee at Aroma. I feel like a little kid, seeing her teacher outside of school. But you don’t belong here! You should be in a white coat, writing things down on a medicine box and talking quickly and telling me I don’t need to refrigerate the Moxyvit! Why are you here????

The worst is when I can’t place the person, and then I walk around for days with the image of this person’s face in my head, trying her out in all sorts of scenarios. Here she is, scanning my groceries. Nope, that’s not it. Now she’s telling me to pee in a cup! No, wrong again. Swiping my Maccabi card? No! Darn it! Who are you?????

Riddle Time!
And finally, a Tu B'Shvat riddle from Dadz. I know TB was last week, but so what?

"I guess in Israel, Tu B'Shvat becomes Tu B'Pvat."

Anyone who guesses correctly wins a delicious piece of fresh, dried-out buxor! Good luck to you all!

The Test, Part Shtayim

2011-01-26T19:55:00.002+02:00

A few blogs ago (see what a bloggy blogger I am? I no longer think in terms of "days" or "weeks," but in terms of "blogs.") I posted about the renowned (for something, I'm sure) Henrietta Szold Institute and the TEST they wanted my daughter to take. I would link to it but I'm lazy so I'm not gonna. Well, yesterday was the Big Day.

Digression: Before I begin, I would just like to say how nice it is to be among friends, where no one (or, at least, almost no one) thinks I am abusive.

You see, Facebook has banned me from posting comments because they think I posted a comment on my status 130 times, which I agree is abusive behavior. Indeed, my comment did appear over 100 times (the same one, and it wasn't even that witty, nothing you'd really want to read 130 times.) However, I promise you, and I promise the powers that be at Facebook, that I did not sit there typing and clicking my comment 130 times. Even I have better things to do with my time.

But for now, for anywhere from a "few hours to a few days," I cannot comment. So it is nice to be here, where I can comment freely. Comment, comment, comment.

Plbbbtttt, is what I say to Facebook.

Now, back to our regularly schedule test.

The letter said the test was starting at 2:30. And I, my friends, am hopelessly American. Even though I no longer blink when parties for 3 and 4 year olds end at 7:00 and dinner wasn't even served, I am still not Israeli. I figured like this:

"Well, there are a bunch of kids taking the test. I'm sure there's some kind of check-in process, because they said we had to bring the letter. So we'll get there at 2:15."

At 2:15, Ariella, Nadav, and I show up to the school where this test is. The doors are locked. Parents and kids are milling around outside.

Haha! Surely, if the test starts at 2:30, they don't plan on opening the doors at 2:30!

But yes, Loyal Reader, in fact, that is EXACTLY what they planned on doing.

So at 2:30 the doors opened. Actually, just one door, so we all - parents, kids, siblings, strollers - had to walk in (read: push), single file.

Now, the kids were divided into groups - each letter had a group number, which designated the room they were to take the test in. Again, I thought:

Well, why don't they send the kids straight to their rooms, and in the room the proctor can do the five-minute explanation about the test?

Wrong again! We all had to gather in the lobby of the school, where a sweet-voiced lady stood on a chair and tried to hush everyone.

Now, the same part of the Israeli genetic code that is responsible for "I must get on this elevator/bus/train before you have a chance to get off!" told the entering parents to enter ju-u-u-st enough, and then stop. None of this go alllll the way in so there's room for everyone. Silly, how American of you!

So we waited until everyone had inched in j-u-u-u-st enough for the whole crowd to fit. Finally, Sweet Voice read her instructions, and sent the kids to their separate rooms. Of course, the poor kids had to squeeze through the various parents, siblings, and strollers, since we were all packed in like a jar of herring.

In the end, the test was close to an hour and a half. Ariella went straight from the test to her chugim, and pretty much collapsed in bed when she came home.

And now we wait. We don't find out the results until the end of June, or about 50 blog posts from now.

Driving Miss Rose

2011-01-24T10:43:00.002+02:00

Background: This coming Friday night, we are hosting some of Donny's (not dati) colleagues for Friday night dinner.

**************************************************

Scene: The Shabbat table

Ariella: Are we having company this Shabbat?

Me: No, but next week we're having Daddy's friends from work.

[Silence.]

Ariella: So, they live in Modiin? (Strange, you'd think we would have seen them before.)

Me: No, in Tel Aviv.

[Silence.]

Ariella [incredulously]: So they're going to walk all the way from Tel Aviv and then all the way back???

Donny: They're going to come here before Shabbat starts.

Ariella: But they still have to walk back!

Me: Well, we're going to offer them a place to sleep here, but if they don't want to, they can choose to drive back.

*********************************

Since we live in Modiin - not only in Modiin, but directly above that renowned thoroughfare known as Sderot "Rat-a-tat-tat" Hashmonaim - Ariella is certainly aware that people drive on Shabbat. We've had many discussions about not Jewish vs. not dati, different levels of mitzvah observance, etc. So she accepted the fact that they would drive back on Shabbat.

Unlike a colleague of Donny's, who grew up on a religious yishuv and thought that cars simply did not work on Shabbat. They were just programmed to shut off every 7th day. For better or worse, Ariella is wise about the world. She even knows about issues:

Yaakov: Awiella, what aww issues?

Ariella: Yaakov, issues are things you have.

Presents! Or; Don't Come Home Without People Magazine

2011-01-19T19:40:00.004+02:00

Yeah, yeah, Donny's back. The real question - whaja bring us?

And so, I give you....the Present Rundown

1. For Ariella - a Tetris game. But not the Gameboy kind. (Sing with me! Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doooooo. Digression: Why isn't there a better way to type tunes? You know the song I'm talking about, though, right?) It's real, live, plastic Tetris blocks, and you're supposed to be able to take them and form a cube. Supposedly there are over 9,000 solutions. We're still working on one. Also, they only fit into the box when they're in a cube, so when Ariella puts them away at night, there are always some Tetris limbs akimbo, sticking out of the box at awkward angles.

2. For Yaakov - a Transformer! It's more than meets the eye! (Apparently, the theme of the presents is "The Late Eighties.") Anyway, it looks really awesome - a green car that turns - transforms, if you will - into a robot dude. But the first hitch - it came with an instruction booklet.

Now, I understand needing instruction booklets for really complicated, one-time assembly items, like a Space Station. Or a crib. But a Transformer? A toy that a child should, in a perfect world, be able to do himself? Also, the extent of Yaakov's reading, thus far, is:

1. He recognizes the "O."
2. He writes his name (usually backward) in Hebrew.

Anyway, Donny worked on Tedious Prime for a while, and at the end, had a car in one hand, and an arm in the other.

Hmmm.....

Scene: Yaakov has a friend over to play.

Yaakov: Do you want to see my Transformer?

Friend: Yesh!

Yaakov: Let's turn it into a car!

Friend: Yesh!

Yaakov: Okay, it's really easy! All we have to do is sit here and wait five hours till my daddy gets home from work!

Friend: Let's just go back to gluing our fingers together.

Anyway, we promised Yaakov we'd get him a new toy. A regular car. That does not come with a spare arm.

3. For Nadav - an awesome, soft, cuddly, light-blue Snoopy dog. Two of them, actually, because we learned the hard way what happens when your child becomes addicted to her stuffed animal and there is only one. One. And you can look into every store, search online, call the company, climb every mountain, ford every stream, and at the end of the rainbow, there is STILL no other Bunny to be found. But that's a story for another time. The point is, we have two Snoopy dogs.

4. For me - a brand-new office chair. But that has to wait to come on my parents' lift. Until then, lots of candy (ohmigod - dark chocolate Reese's PB cups) and magazines, and DVDs of The Nanny. Eh, who needs the chair?

Is It Naptime Yet?

2011-01-18T09:12:00.005+02:00

Well the Nachlieli has landed and will be home shortly. So I wave goodbye to my evenings of Private Practice + Cocoa Krispies. But don't feel too bad, because I can now welcome back evenings of How I Met Your Mother + Milkies.

We have had some late nights, here in the Rose household, and I am hoping today will be a more calm, shlep-less sort of day. On Sunday, Ariella went straight to a friend's after school to work on a project that's due this Friday. The busy life of second graders - last Sunday, the mother of the other girl and I tried to pick a day, but every single night was taken, either with chugim or birthday parties. So the first available night for these busy social parparim was this Sunday night. Meanwhile, Yaakov had to go to a birthday party.

Of course, it was pouring Sunday evening when I had to take Yaakov to the party. I decided (in my head), that I would wait until I saw another mother go in to the party and ask her to escort Yaakov, because Nadav was with me and my Car Babysitter was working on her project. ("Dear Moriah, Ariella was unable to do her project. She needed to sit in the car with Nadav.")

And just as I pulled up I saw my opportunity. The only hitch was that I sort of hadn't explained this plan to Yaakov, so he was a bit dazed as I yanked him out of the car, threw his sweatshirt on, tossed him the present, and shoved him toward Ima shel Ido "HicanyoutakeYaakovup? Greathanks!" I think Ima shel Ido was a bit dazed, too.

Yaakov was not too traumatized by my bad parenting; later, he gleefully related how he and Ido had to step in puddles to cross the street.

For the pick-up portion of the evening, my plan was to first get Car Babysitter, and then get Yaakov, but the girls needed every extra second possible. So I went to the party, parked (it had stopped raining) and dragged Nadav inside with me.

Inside was a haze of end-of-party craziness. Kids smeared in chocolate, wandering around shoeless, waiting not-so-patiently for their goody bags. I needed to round up 5 boys and take them down to their waiting parents. Until we located everyone's umbrella, sweatshirt, shoes, then put on the shoes, and got the goody bags...well, it was starting to get close to my bedtime. Eventually, boys were rounded up, Ariella was retrieved (with the project only half done), and everyone got into bed. Cue Cocoa Krispies.

Last night, Ariella went straight to her friend's again to finish the blessed project. (Is it bad that when I read in the daf kesher: "For the end of Parshat Lech L'cha, instead of a test, the children will be creating projects," my heart sank?) Our contribution to the project was hosting the brother of Project Girl for a playdate here, and it ended in another late night.

Good news: The other family did the driving for the Child Exchange Program.
Bad news: It was shower night.

We needed 2 episodes of Private Practice to take the edge off.

במקום שאין איש...

2011-01-14T13:50:00.002+02:00

....then Mommy has to be the Ish.

Donny has been away this week. He is on the east coast, instead of the west, in Washington. (DC. Not state, and not Heights, as Ariella thought: "Is he going to be where Uncle Elie and Aunt Leezy used to live?") He went for work, of course, though I think he had as many trips to Goldberg's Bagels as he had meetings. Also a trip to the Spy Museum. And some fancy restaurants.

But it's okay; I'm not jealous. This whole week, after the kids went to bed, there was no second dinner to prepare, so I ate Cocoa Krispies and watched Private Practice. (Halfway through season 3; three-quarters of the way through the box of cereal.) Expensive steak and wine it is not, but I do get to do it in my pajamas.

Also, in case you thought I was lonely at night without my roommate - Fret not! The children made liberal use of Daddy's bed this week. Ariella had bad dreams one night; another night, after coming back from my middle-of-the-night bonding session with Nadav, I saw a little shorn, blond head in the bed next to mine. I also noticed my bathroom door was wide open. Apparently, said the owner of the blond head the next morning, "I said your name, Mommy, but you didn't wake up. So I went to the bathroom and got into Daddy's bed."

Ariella had a cold this week, so in kind gesture she offered, "I should sleep in Daddy's bed the rest of the week, because I'm just going to wake up Yaakov with my coughing and sneezing."

Gee, thanks, kid. I explained that the exact opposite was true - Yaakov could probably sleep through a thunderstorm-monster truck rally-hachnasat sefer Torah. (Ohmigod, if they sold tickets to that I would TOTALLY go.)

I, on the other hand, after 7.5 years of cries and pitter patters and whispers of, "Mommy? Mommy?" wake up at every little noise, especially if it emanates from a small person. (With the exception of the other night, it seems.) So I assured her that in fact, I would be the one to be up all night if she slept in Daddy's bed.

For Shabbat we head over the Green Line, to Chashmonaim. This time, Nadav and I will be roomies. Which makes it so much easier to have those middle-of-the-night bonding sessions. ("I'm tired." "I'd like to nurse.") The Rose and Balsam children have been eagery anticipating this get-together for an entire week, or in almost-5-year-old-terms, FOREVER.

Shabbat Shalom.

80!

2011-01-12T08:45:00.003+02:00

We have reached 80 Loyal Readers! Now, I know there are many loyal readers who are not Loyal Readers, and there may be Loyal Readers who are not loyal readers, you follow? (Of course you do, you're a Loyal Reader!) But I digress....

So how should we celebrate? Another virtual kiddush? That seems so....last year. You know, back when there were NOT 80 Loyal Readers. Any ideas?

Henrietta Szold, a Woman of Mystery

2011-01-09T20:00:00.003+02:00

Exhibit A: Ariella, a very intelligent girl
Exhibit B: The letter.

We received this letter last week. Ariella came home with it from school. It is from the Henrietta Szold Institute, and the topic is "An Invitation to the Test for Phase 2 for Acceptance into the Special Enrichment Program for Gifted and Talented Students." (Very loosely translated from the Hebrew.)

My first reaction to this was, "Whoo-hoo! My kid sure are real smart!" I mean, we've known this for a while, but it's always nice to hear it again.

The letter goes on to discuss this test. Where and when it will be held. How long it lasts (an hour to an hour and a half - sheesh. Like the mini-SATs or something. Will she have to complete analogies?) How important it is to show up for the test since you cannot take it on a different day. You must do everything in your power to come! (Um, okay, just calm down, now.) What to bring and what not to bring. A very long section discussing what will be on the test itself, and that there is no need to study (phew.)

Then we're told that at the end of the school year, we will get a letter letting us know whether our child has been accepted or not accepted to this "program." And if you don't intend to send your child to the program, well then, don't bother showing up for the test.

Following that is a whole complicated paragraph about parents of twins, in a situation where both of whom (the twins, not the parents) have been invited to participate, but be warned that that one might be accepted and one not.

Finally, it ends with a phone number - but only to be used in case of emergency ("Help! I forgot which side of the pencil to use!") and not, in any way, shape or form, to be used to find out any sort of information about this test or program. God forbid. We like our parents to be in the dark.

So I had a few questions about this:

1. HUH????? Who are you people? (No letter of explanation arrived. Just instructions.)

2. And what do you want with my daughter?

3. Phase Two??? When the hell was Phase One????? (And yes, there were that many question marks in my head.)

4. What is this "program?" How do I know if I want to be a part of it? Does it involve shlepping out at 6:30 PM with two tired, cranky boys in tow, to pick Ariella up from a chug, which is located at 123 Ends of the Earth, No Place to Park, Modiin, 71720? Because I'm already doing that this year, for another chug she's in for smart kids. And let me tell you, there's little they can say that is going to make me repeat this daring feat of parenthood next year.

I was able to glean a few bits of information from Ariella. Apparently, Phase One happened in school at the beginning of the year, and the kids who did really well were invited to partake in Phase Two. Still...I'd like to know more about this "program" and this "institute" before I take her to this "test."

So, please, Ms. Szold. Throw me some scraps here. Whatever you got, I'll take it.

My Hero

2011-01-07T07:42:00.002+02:00

I know I'm not such a link-y blogger (although "Linky Bloggers" would be a great name for a rock band...which is a hint as to the subject of this blog post.....)

....however, on Facebook, Loyal Reader Isobel posted a link to Dave Barry's Year in Review, which of course I immediately read. And I now share it with you. Consider it a Shabbat present. And don't say we never gave you anything.

In deference to my hero, there will be no jokes in this blog. You wouldn't try to out-dvar Torah a rabbi. Or out-"Cars" Yaakov (I'm not sure what that even means, but trust me, you wouldn't want to do it.) So we will not try to out-humor the Master of Funny. I'm serious. Don't even smile. Stop it. Stop it right now! Momz, I can see you. Stop laughing!

Okay we'll have to sign off now before things get too out of control. Shabbat Shalom.

Incoming Transmission

2011-01-05T19:20:00.003+02:00

[Crackle, crackle, static, crackle]

"Come in Baby Nadav, come in, come in."

[Nadav inserts the two fingers of his left hand into his mouth.]

"Hold on, just adjusting my Internal Oral-Appendage Transmitter." [Suck, suck]

"Okay, the I-OAT is in place."

"Baby Nadav, this is Baby Bjorn. We have a mission for you."

[Crackle, static, crackle]

"Baby Nadav, I repeat, this is Baby Bjorn. Do you read me? You're not coming in clearly. Try sucking harder on those fingers." [Pause.] "Yes, much better."

"Okay, Baby Bjorn, can you read me now?"

"Loud and clear. Baby Nadav, we have received your next assignment. You rose through the ranks quickly, aceing your Oatmeal Smear and passing Floor Licking with flying colors. Your next mission is more challenging - you must find the garbage can and topple it. So hard that the contents are scattered all over the floor. Do you understand???"

"Yes, sir. Garbage. Topple it. I'm on it. You can count on me."

"We knew we could, Baby Nadav, we knew we could. This is Baby Bjorn, over and out."

Beginning of Week Ramblings

2011-01-02T09:54:00.002+02:00

Sorry to throw you all - I know I usually save ramblings for the end of the week. But we at aliyahbyaccident like to switch things up, keep you on your toes, make life interesting, so we're doing our ramblings at the beginning of the week. Also, we didn't have time to post on Friday.

1. Why is it that alcohol is so freely available here, and yet purchasing Tylenol requires feats of ingenuity and many meters of patience? If you want beer, wine, whiskey, Scotch, vodka - just go into any supermarket or makolet and fill your cart. You can even start drinking in the store, like a woman today did in the middle of Rami Levi. (Okay, she was drinking from a juice carton, but still.)

But regular OTC painkillers are only available at the pharmacy, and if you want to buy more than 20 pills, then you have to wait in line for the pharmacist, because the mega-boxes are only available BTC, and in front of you, naturally, are people who have never purchased Band-Aids before in their life, and need to hold intricate discussions with the pharmacist about the how-tos of their purchases. ("You're saying that the sticky part goes on your skin? Could you show me?")

If you didn't need that Tylenol before coming in, you sure do now.

2. In other shopping-related angst: I got a Bagger Boy at Rami Levi today! Hoo-ha! However, that explains why, when I was putting the packages in the car, there was one bag filled to bursting with 2 jars of tomato sauce, a large can of diced tomatoes, a package of rice, a package of sugar, and a can of baked beans. And another bag containing 4 rolls.

3. Another non-strike strike: Last night we got a text. The saya'ot (assistants) in the ganim were preparing to strike. Usually, this means that gan opens at 8:00 (when the head ganenet arrives) instead of 7:30, and it will only open if there is a parent volunteer who can fill the place of the assistant. The text said that the tzaharon morah would fill in, thereby depriving us of the privilege of assisting in a class of 35 3/4 year olds. However, this came at a cost of 10 shekel per child. I was more than ready to pay, because the other option was

A. Volunteering myself (Ha!)

B. Not sending Yaakov (Ha ha!)

In the end, the strike was canceled, and everything was "ragil."

But can someone please explain how this system works? I know we haven't been here all that long, but why is it every time the gans strike it's the saya'ot that strike? Do the head gananot ever strike, or are they just very happy and content with their jobs? And if that's the case, maybe the Saya'at Union should hire whoever works for the Head Ganenet Union because he or she is clearly doing a much better job.

For the Good of the Tissues

2010-12-28T10:24:00.004+02:00

Nadav loves a good tissue. Actually, any tissue will do. He's not quite crawling, but when he spots an unattended tissue on the floor, that kid scootches so fast he's got little fast cartoon lines coming out of him. He likes to crumple it, then shove it in his mouth until it starts to dissolve.

Now, I know you're probably thinking I should take the tissue out of his hands. Or his mouth, if it's gotten to that point already. But, you know, when you forbid something to a child, it just makes it all that more enticing. Before we know it, he'll be grabbing tissues when he thinks we're not looking; then it's just a slippery slope to sneaking out at night to score some tissues or hoarding them when he's at a friend's house.

So I think it's better to let him have some tissues here, in his own home, where I can supervise the grabbing and munching. I don't want to think about him loose on the streets, scootching around, frantically searching for a tissue.

Late to the Party

2010-12-26T09:33:00.003+02:00

Okay, I know Chanukah is, like, sooooo over, but for some reason it wasn't until last week that I decided to show my kids the Maccabeats video. Actually, I do know the reason - once they know something is on Mommy's computer, they want to watch it over and over and then I am prevented from doing important computer-related things such as updating my Facebook status.
("Gila Leibtag-Rose why did I show my kids that video?? Now they won't leave me alone!")

Sure enough, once they saw it, Yaakov has asked at least once a day to watch "the thing that the mans did." He is totally mesmerized. His favorite parts: "When the man does that thing with his hands, and when the man pushes the other man, and when the levivah goes flying into the air." For those of you who are as obsessed - or whose children are as obsessed - with this video as mine are, you will know exactly what scenes I am referring to.

In typical fashion, Yaakov enjoys the video, while Ariella tries to deconstruct how they did it and where they did and why are they called the Maccabeats, and ohmigod just sit and watch it! But, folks, that is just not how she works. We love her for it. We just don't love watching videos with her.

Yaakov did have one question,"Mommy, how come they say, 'Nes gadol hayah sham?' It's 'Nes gadol hayah poh!'" Which led me to realize that not only is he growing up without singing "I have a little dreidel" every year and trying to remember that second verse about the skinny legs, but he has no idea that most of the world sings another version of "Sevivon sov sov sov."

So we have our work cut out for us, trying to inculcate the children with important lessons from the Old Country. Such as teaching the dreidel song and how to properly pronounce "shaloshudis."

A Guest Post From Momz!

2010-12-22T20:16:00.004+02:00

Momz was called to do her civic duty this week. She was bored. To pass the time, she offered to write a guest plog about jury duty. Without further ado, I present:

Momz' Poem About Jury Duty

My name is Juror
It's on my sticker
The justice system here
Could be a little quicker

Six hundred souls from Baltimore
Ready to serve one trial, no more
Murder, robbery, all types of rot
We will decide – did he do it or not?

Hours 1 through 5 have now passed by
Reading, crosswords, movies I've tried
We wait to hear the voice which we fear
Telling us which group should go for voir dire*

But the magical voice hasn't spoken at all
Telling us to go somewhere down the hall
To answer questions about our 'tudes
On crime and lawyers and criminal dudes

Once in a while you hear a jingle
And no, it is not old Kris Kringle
It's a prisoner in shackles in the hall
This is a lovely place to hang out, y'all

At 3 we are released from service
Whew, now I am no longer nervous
At $15 each they spent 9,000 bucks
For nothin' – I wonder if they feel like [redacted]?

*Momz knows lots of fancy words. Like "emoticon." And "viceroy." And "redacted."

Feeling Royal

2010-12-20T09:34:00.004+02:00

Well, I would like to thank all the Loyal Readers, LOyal Readers, and DADZ (you're in a category all your own, colon + right parentheses) for one of the most spirited discussions to ever take place in the comments section of aliyahbyaccident. I am looking forward to meeting all of you when we have our grand Cable is NOT Crap Party at Momz and DADZ's new pad, may it be built speedily in our days.

************************************************

And now, I present Scene from a Bedroom.

I am sitting on Ariella's bed, and we are saying shema together.

Ariella: Mommy, why do we have to say "baruch shem k'vod" quietly?

Mommy: Because it's what the malachim say and we don't want to act like we are like the malachim. [Or something. As I'm saying this to Ariella my brain is frantically whirring. Am I making this up? I'm pretty sure I learned this at some point. But is this one of those explanations that we give kids - like the whole covering-the-challah-so-it-won't-be-embarrassed thing - and then there's really a grown-up explanation that I never learned? Oh God. She's going to find out that Mommy doesn't really know anything - except for nivim, for in those I have no equal - and I will be so embarrassed. Like the challah. Or not. Help!]

Ariella: Mommy, that's not true.

Mommy: I knew it! Oh boy, here it comes.

Ariella: Because you told me we don't have malachim anymore. We have a rosh memshalah.

So we discussed the difference between a "malach" and a "melech." Something I know about. Phew.

Musings

2010-12-13T03:21:00.002+02:00

Questions:

1. After Momz and DADZ make aliyah, with whom shall I chat in the middle of the night when I am up with sinus pain or other middle-of-the-night ailments? (Including, but not limited to, strep throat and sick children.) Although, it's more Momz than DADZ that does the chatting. DADZ is usually telling Momz to get off the phone so they can watch one of their many television shows on CABLE, yes the same CABLE that we were not allowed to have growing up, and yes I'm still bitter about this. To Dadz, I say colon + capital P.

(This is a private joke between me and DADZ. He is emoticonally-challenged.)

2. Why, when bad things happen to the Jewish people, it's all, "We are such sinners! We must fast and pray!" but when good things happen, not once do you hear, "We are a nation of righteous do-gooders! Let us proclaim this a day of feasting and rejoicing in the streets!"?

3. That's all I've got for now. Said cold and sinus pain has wiped out most of my brain cells. It's amazing I'm even able to type thislcnaoitehoh 3*&(*U#FJSI*(fhdkU^&%U.

And This is Chanukah

2010-12-09T10:56:00.004+02:00

The Festival of Lights Draws to a close. It felt like the longest week ever that just whizzed by. A round-up of the second half of the holiday:

1. In case you've been waiting with bated breath, Ariella's sleepover was a huge success. You can stop bating now. She returned home Monday morning. Glad to see me? Oh no, just sad that it was over and when can we have another one, Mommy???? Love ya too, kid.

2. We had my sister and brother-in-law Leezy and Elie (of donut-eating fame) for dinner on Monday night. Our food - I made soup and latkes, and Donny made his famous sufganiot - was a big success. Last year, Donny did not have time to make the dough, so I attempted it, but I forgot that in the Gila Instruction Manual (yes, I come with one) it clearly states that: "Do not let Gila attempt to make a yeast dough. She will end up taking pictures of the yeast with her cell phone and sending them to Donny to see if it's bubbling correctly. And in the end, the product - say, a sufganiyah - will more closely resemble a hockey puck than a doughnut." So you can imagine the end of that little story....

3. On Tuesday, we went with the Misrad Haklitah on a "Chanukiot tiyul" in the Old City. Despite a lengthy stop at the Knesset menorah and numerous stops to explain stuff, the kids had a great time. They do love a good march through the Old City, and we took a secret, circuitous route to the Kotel. The trip had something for everyone: Ariella had her BFF, Yaakov got to go on a BUS, and Nadav was attached to me all night thanks to the Baby Bjorn. What could be better? Plus, there were doughnuts!

4. On Wednesday, we hung out at the Dimri park for a while. Sadly, I missed my chance to meet a mother in Israel. No, sorry, I know lots of mothers in Israel. But I missed my chance to meet A Mother In Israel. That's right, she was in Modiin, about two blocks away, but the timing didn't work out, so all we did was talk on the phone about how the timing is not going to work out. But now I've heard her voice. So we're one step closer...

5. On Wednesday - yes! Wednesday is a TWO-PARTER! - we had the annual Funnest Day of the Year Ever Ever Ever. You know it - the yearly trip on the train to the Microsoft Chanukah party. (I once accidentally called it a "holiday party," harking back to the old days of political correctness in the US of A.) For a successful party, just follow these 17 easy steps:

1. Wake up at 7:50 (yes, I know, very late, thanks to the 10:00 bedtime that happened in #3).

2. Ask, "When are we going to the train?"
"At 2:00."

3. Eat breakfast.

4. Ask, "When are we going to the train?"
"At 2:00."
"When is it 2:00?"
"Not for another six hours."
"Oof! That's not for a long time!"

5. Repeat step #4 all morning, each time lessening the amount of hours left, until, finally.....

6. IT'S TIME TO GO ON THE TRAIN!

7. Take backpacks that are filled with enough activities and food to sustain and entertain a small country for a month (provided the citizens like to color and eat apple slices). Walk to the train.

8. 2:42 - train departs

9. 2:50 - half the snacks are finished

10. Look out the window, eat, color, read books, eat, color, eat, look out the window, eat until.....

11. We arrive in Haifa! The most fun part of the party is now behind us.

12. Daddy picks us up and drives us to his office.

13. Now we begin the second most fun part...

14. Coloring on Daddy's white board! Eating Daddy's candy! Running up and down the hallways! Phew, this is the best party ever! (Digression: Donny confessed to me, "Now I understand why you're always cleaning up. The kids were in my office for twenty minutes and it's a MESS!" I just smiled.)

15. Now for the third most fun part....

16. The actual party! Get something painted on your hair/hand/face/arm! Do many art projects! Eat some corn! Build the world's most disgusting gingerbread house out of tea biscuits and chocolate spread, topped with candies that every child touched after licking the chocolate off his/her fingers. Mmmmmm!

The kids had a fabulous time at the actual party, and we ended up staying much later than I thought we would. Now for the totally not fun part....

17. Drive home! Listen to Nadav scream his head off pretty much the entire ride. I think it was his way of saying, "I've had enough of this holiday! Feed me when I'm hungry, put me to sleep when I'm tired, and for the love of oatmeal, stop schlepping me around." We hear ya, buddy.

And that was Chanukah.

Exciting Chanukah Happenings

2010-12-05T13:41:00.003+02:00

1. Ariella is going to a friend's for her first sleepover tonight.

2. For Chanukah, we gave Ariella the game חת-חתול (Rat-A-Tat-Cat. I have to translate it because when I wrote it in English - Chat-Chatul - it sounds like a game of incessant talking. Although, when Ariella is involved, most games are.) This is a game which relies on memory. Which means I totally suck at it. While Ariella is busy calculating which cards went where and which cards could be swapped and where I put my good cards, I'm busy pondering menus and blog posts and making sure Nadav doesn't actually swallow a piece of the cardboard he's sucking on. So, needless to say, she usually beats me. ("Mommy, you gave away your zero. Again!")

3. Ariella is going to a sleepover tonight. It's her FIRST ONE!

4. On Friday, we got to hang out with some Loyal Readers, who were actually Loyal Friends well before ABA was even conceived. (Can you imagine such a time???) These friends - to protect their identities we'll call them the "Shmoppers" - had traveled all the way from America just to see us. And while they were here, they also had some family bar mitzvah or something. Anyway, our grand plans were waylaid because I ended up at the doctor for an infection. (Not to get one; I already had one, though I could have easily picked up a few more in the waiting room.) And if there is one place you want to avoid on a Friday, it's the doctor's office. Luckily, he gave me a prescription and I headed off to the pharmacy. However, if there's a second place you want to avoid on a Friday, it's the pharmacy. So, a mere two hours after I left for my appointment, I returned with meds in hand.

At this point, it was 12:00, so instead of a great day spelunking in Beit Guvrin, we ended up at the park on Yitzhak Rabin right here in Modiin. Pretty lame; luckily the Shmoppers were good sports, and it was nice to have time to catch up. Plus, the kids were happy because they all got ARTIKIM!

5. Have I mentioned the sleepover???? The packing began on Friday.

6. Yaakov coined a new phrase: "Bouncing my tea." What else do you call what we do with our teabags in the hot water?

7. ARIELLA IS GOING ON A SLEEPOVER!!!! SHE IS VERY EXCITED!!!!!!

8. We had Unka Jonafin for Shabbat. He was delicious. (Ba-dum-dum-CHING!)

9. Unka Jonafin taught Ariella how to play Modiin Hold 'Em with dreidels and sticks. Her life as a cardshark (dreidelshark?) begins. I heard her explaining to Yaakov on Shabbos morning, "Yaakov, you have pocket gimmels."

10. Ariella is finally on her sleepover! I'm receiving updates from the front. The latest: "The girls are painting their nails. But not their thumbs, so they can still suck them."

So big, and yet....

Chanukah Check-List

2010-12-01T12:51:00.003+02:00

Ate at least one sufganiyah before Chanukah. (Preferably from Roladin): Check

Have at least 3 chanukiot per child: Check

Child using tin chanukiyah from Rami Levi because that is the only one which actually holds the candles: Check

Child came home with dreidl made out of CD + marble: Check

Attended at least one Chanukah gan party in which black light was used: Check (Gan party people: Time for a new special effect. The white shirts turn purple. We get it.)

Forgot whether the candles start on the right or left: Check (Every. Single. Year.)

Warbling Chanukah tunes in my head all day, despite not knowing the actual words (What is a "sacha li balat" anyway?): Check

So, looks like we're off to a good start. Will keep you posted as this Festival of Lights continues.

Happy Chanukah to all the Loyal Readers!

Upsherin

2010-11-28T10:55:00.003+02:00

Yes, Nadav had his at the tender age of 6 months and 1 week. The hair in front of his eyes was getting to be too much, at least for me and Donny. So chop, chop, chop. I think Nadav is surprised to find out that the world does not, in fact, have thin little lines running through it.

This also means there's less hair for him to pull and then scream in agony because, OUCH! Someone's pulling my hair!

Before:

After:

Welcome to Thanksgiving! (Updated Version)

2010-11-25T12:41:00.005+02:00

Well, it's the big T-day. (Thanksgiving, you Israelis.) Not a holiday here, of course, everyone's at work as normal. In other words, the insanity-inducing RATATATATATATATATATAT outside my windows continued this morning. The Great Modiin Tunnel is underway.

We did not celebrate Thanksgiving since making aliyah in 2008. The last time we had a traditional Thanksgiving dinner was actually in Israel, during our pilot trip in 2007, hosted by Donny's grandfather, aka Zaidy, and his wife, aka Sonya. But once we made aliyah, we replaced Thanksgiving dinner with the usual ToTh. However, this year is an exception. Friends are coming to the Holy Land for a family simcha, and needed a B&D (Bed and Dinner.) Donny figured that since they are Amerian, they needed to be mekayem the mitzvah of seudat Thanksgiving. Who better to host it than us? Plus, who wouldn't want to stay right above the Great Modiin Tunnel?

So Donny told them that we (and by "we" I mean "I") would cook a real Thanksgiving dinner. Yes, folks, I am giving up ToTh in order to cook. I, too, am amazed. Although it may be hasty to say "giving up." I'm thinking next week we might celebrate ToS as well as ToTh.

Anyway, I am cooking a turkey. I figured I would just make a turkey breast, but ironically, the butcher didn't have breasts, just the whole dang thing. So in the oven it went. Okay, to be honest, Donny prepared the turkey, but I am in charge of both basting it and that delicate task of figuring out when it's cooked but not dried out.

We are also having a roasted zucchini/mushroom/tomato/onion thing, sweet potatoes, salad, rice, cornbread, and a new dessert recipe, lemon squares, which had to be re-cooked last night so let's hope it turns out okay. I was intrigued by this recipe for pumpkin pie, but honestly, seems like way too much work. Libby is in business for a reason, you know. Don't mess with her.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, so I am always sad to miss it (isn't it funny how I say "always" when we've only been here a little over 2 years? Guess it feels like forever.) And even cooking all the foods, well, it's not the same. Real Thanksgiving means sleeping late (like till 7:00--who else's 4 year old was standing next to their bed at 5:30 this morning, looming over them with big blue eyes, hoping that by the sheer force of staring they could get their parent to arise and give them breakfast? Oooh, oooh! Mine was! ), hanging out, watching the parade for about ten minutes until you realize it's actually kind of boring, eating a big meal with family, and then knowing it's 3 more days until you have to go back to work! This Israeli version is kind of like having cholent on Wednesday - you can cook the food, but it still ain't Shabbos.

So, how are the Loyal Readers celebrating? I know that Tired and her family are pushing off the celebration to Sunday, and Baila is out gallivanting in Zichron Yaakov. Momz and DADZ are going to see Harry Potter and then doing the whole Thanksgiving-dinner-with-family thing. I heard DADZ is going to wear his buckled shoes and practice his war cries.

What is everyone else doing?

Update: Dinner was fabulous -- at least our very polite guests told us it was -- the turkey was delicious (thanks to the cleaning ladies who told me it needed more time), re-cooked lemon squares were great, and our guests brought a little piece of America, or should I say a little can, in the form of cranberry sauce. Mmmmmm. Plus, we have decided to do ToSh instead, which suits me just fine.

Strike!

2010-11-23T09:01:00.003+02:00

Well, it's a big ol' strike week here in Israel. First, the rain has been on strike for quite some time. We are having all manner of public tefillot this week to pray for rain. Ariella has even offered to draw a circle and stand in it until the rains come. (Man, Wikipedia knows about everything!)

Even I am praying hard for rain, although it will mean a halt in the construction of our apartment. Because we seriously--and I do not use that word lightly--need some rain. Also, I don't want to move into a brand-new apartment all smelly because I haven't been able to shower for months. So bring on the rains!

Also, there is a produce strike. And apparently, "produce" includes poultry, dairy, eggs, and fish. It's okay. We won't starve. We have half a box of granola bars and a can of chick peas! Actually, when I went shopping yesterday (Monday, natch), everything was pretty well-stocked. There were no hordes of panicky customers buying 24 dozen eggs, cartloads of chicken, ten pounds of apples (=60 apples, farenheit), and more milk than they could possibly hope to drink before it expires. It was pretty calm. Well, calm for Rami Levi. But I've heard that it's going to get worse as the week goes on, and I, for one, am personally looking forward to watching the fistfights over the last bag of Shoko. Or, seeing as it's Shoko we're talking about, joining in.

Mmmm Mmmm Goood, The Sequel

2010-11-19T13:01:00.005+02:00

Well, it turns out Nadav does like food. He just likes to eat it himself. Banana, avocado, oatmeal (the real-people kind), sweet potato - just drop it on his tray and he's happy. Of course, much of the time is spent squishing the food between his fingers and dropping it on his bib (Note to self: Do not rely on 4-year-old for translation assistance. Turns out, Hebrew for "bib" is not "beeeeb.") Anyway, he does get gobs into his mouth every now and then and seems to enjoy it.

Although, after spending 15 minutes picking oat particles out of his eyelashes, I began to question the wisdom of this method....

4-7: Help!

2010-11-16T19:57:00.006+02:00

In the words of my Tired friend...."Yo yo! Where is the latest blog post, chica?"
So, Tired, I dedicate this to you.

The Evening Shift

No matter how relaxing my day might have been, the 4-7 shift is enough to do me in. Kids home from school/gan, babysitter gone, no naps (for me) in sight, just the long haul until bedtime. And yes, the kids go to sleep early, and yes, Ariella is pretty independent, hygiene-wise. But still.

For example, the following conversation with Ariella or Yaakov occurs with alarming regularity:

"It's time for a shower."

"WHAT?????" Complete shock. A shower? What sayeth you, woman? What is this "shower" thing of which you speak? I suspect it is something I do NOT want to do.

"You know it's shower night." (Full disclosure: I do not bathe them every night. Hey, we have a water crisis here, people.)

"WHAT????? I don't wannnnnnaaaaa take a shower! It's gonna take me ten hundred hours!" (That is Ariella. Everything she doesn't want to do takes her "ten hundred hours.")

"Let's go. Into the shower."

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

"Why are you constantly surprised that you need to shower?"

"I don't wannnnnnaaaaaaa take a shower!"

"You know, you've spent more time kvetching about the shower than the time it takes to actually take a shower." (For some unknown reason, this sound bit of logic always fails to impress them.)

"FINE! [Cue muttering and grumbling.]

Five minutes later....

"Okay, get out of the shower!"

"But I don't wannnnnaaaaaa get out of the shower!"

Is it bedtime yet?????

So, you know, there's showers, dinners, and lunches, and then cleaning up from showers, dinners, and lunches. There's book reading and baby holding and homework checking and sand dumping (you know, from shoes. And socks. Oh, and toes.) Wash your hands, eat dinner, clean up the water you spilled, no you can NOT have an artik today, go to the bathroom, yes, you DO have to go, I can tell, get your tik ready ("It'll take ten hundred hours!"), why are there MORE dishes? wasn't the floor clean just this morning? STOP WRITING ON YOUR KNEES!

Is it bedtime yet???????

And then, every so often, you get this a moment of zen. Ariella reading her library book on the couch, Yaakov zooming his cars up and down my leg, Nadav on the floor, trying to stuff the sofa into his mouth ("Al...most....there....) and me, sitting and reading a magazine. So you gotta hold onto those moments, people. And when all else fails - or even when it doesn't - eat some Ben & Jerry's (I've got chocolate chip cookie dough in the freezer, if anyone needs.)

Ahhhhh......bedtime.....

End of Week Ramblings, Part II

2010-11-12T10:10:00.004+02:00

Well, Loyal Readers, I had started many a post this week, only to abandon them because they were Not Funny Enough. You see, we at aliyahbyaccident are all about qulity control. We striv to make sur all off our posts are funy, entertaning, and freee of sillye spellin and grammer mistaks?

So, while it may seem like the dearth of posts this week is a bad thing, it is really because we are concerned that what you read here is Quality Entertainment. We except nuthing lest.

And now, for the End of Week Ramblings....

1. I don't think I've shared Yaakov's latest bit of Torah commentary with the Loyal Readers. Ariella was doing chumash homework one night, related to Noach and the flood. Yaakov piped up, "I know who the sons of Noach were! Cham, Kar, and Yafet!"

2. I have discovered the surprising ease of using "nerot." This is our euphamistic Israeli word for "suppository." Nadav was sick this week, and instead of contorting myself to hold down his arms with my hands while simultaneously shoving a syringe of Acamoli in his mouth with my feet, I simply used a "candle." Kid didn't even flinch. Just sat there, sucking away on his fingers.

3. Earlier this week, I texted Donny the following: "There are such extreme levels of incompetence here. It boggles the mind."

Readers, I challenge you: About what did I text this?

a. The pharmacy

b. The supermarket

c. The bank

d. The post office

Now, Loyal Readers, if you answered "e. All of the above" you would not be incorrect. However, in this particular case I was referring to....the Post Office! (All of you who guessed "d" give yourselves a hearty pat on the back.)

I loathe visiting the post office almost as much as I loathe Friday pick-up when half the roads are closed due to "construction." (I have yet to see any perceivable difference in the "before" and "after" shots of the construction that goes on here. Sometimes, I think they actually create pot holes and uneven paving.)

Anyway, the post office is just an unnatural aberration of an institution. Only at the post office can you:

1. Pay your bills
2. Get a library card
3. Pay for your temporary license
4. Do your banking, if you're Unka Jonafin
5. Oh yeah, and get stamps and pick up packages and stuff

So basically, the line is always long and interminable - sometimes I think they actually hire extras to stand in line and make our post office look really busy, maybe in hopes of winning some bizarre post office reality contest. And please, can someone tell me what the point is of Binder Lady? This is the employee hired solely to ignore customers as she busily scrutinizes the contents of a Binder as thick as my accent. To top it off, the contents of this Binder, people, are handwritten. Yes, a throwback to the old days - perhaps Dadz remembers it? - when we actually wrote things down. How quaint! Logging incoming packages with a pen and paper. Truly, it boggles the mind.

4. The fridge is stuffed with Too Much Food now. We are having company tonight, so I made Too Much Food, in the tradition of Jewish housewives since Sara, who originated the multiple-courses concept when she served milk and meat to her guests. However, come Sunday night, we will be shocked at the total emptiness of the same fridge, as we contemplate how we can make dinner out of old olives, two eggs, and a bottle of ketchup. Wish us luck.

5. Shabbat Shalom!