A Funny Thing(s) Happened on the Way To Doing Homework

Almost every day, my children have homework. So you'd think it would come as no surprise when they return home from school with, you know, homework. You'd think they would be used to it. And yet. Every single time, homework is accompanied by severe bouts of moaning and kvetching, as if they walked into school completely unsuspecting, innocent children, and out of nowhere, HOMEWORK was hurled at them. So each day Doing Homework requires dramatics reminiscent of a prisoner on death row. Or of bath night.

Here's how the homework routine goes:

1. Complain
2. Negotiate for pre-homework TV time
3. Cry
4. Check email on way to getting pencil
5. Pencil is dull. Sharpen pencil.
6. Notice cows have returned to the hills across from our house
7. Go outside to moo at cows
8. Lie on floor
9. Use the bathroom
10. Check Webtop (class website)
11. Complain, louder
12. Cry, with tears
13. Lie in bed
14. Lie on couch
15. Ask for a pre-homework treat
16. Eat treat
17. Ask for a during-homework treat
18. Wash hands because treat made hands sticky/crumby/chocolatey
19. Whine
20. Moan, dramatically
21. Ask what's for dinner
22. Ask when we are having [insert favorite food] for dinner
23. Take out more pencils
24. Drop pencils on floor, breaking tips
25. Sharpen new pencil
26. Notice scratch on the wall
27. Become engrossed in toy/lint/piece of dirt
28. Wail about the unfairness of life in general, and homework assignments in particular
29. Sigh that Nadav is SO LUCKY that he doesn't have homework; ignore Mommy's repeated reminders that when you were 3.5, you also didn't have homework, and when Nadav is in school, he will
30. Sigh and finally take out books
31. Do homework

Note: The time it takes to do #1-30 is about 40,000x the amount of time it takes to do #31.

A Thing is a-Coming

Fellow moms (and yes, I am addressing this post to the moms, because this is my blog and I'll stereotype if I want to), next Shabbat is one of Those weeks. You know the ones I'm talking about. It's one of the Get Your Kids to Shul on Time Definitely Not Too Late But Also Not Too Early for [a Thing.]

There are generally 4 categories of "a Thing":

1. Shofar blowing on Rosh Hashana

2. Listening to Parshat Zachor 

3. Kol Hanearim. While you've got wiggle room if you want to make it for hakafot (there are seven of the dang things, after all), you've got to time your shul-going just right to make it for all-the-kids-under-the-tallit-sniff-sniff kol hanearim. Which is after ... hakafah #7? (Why do I never remember?????) And woe unto you if you get to shul and hear, "Ad kan hakafah gimmel! Gimmel!" You've got a long way to go, baby. (And Daddy's shoulders can only handle about half a hakafah these days.)

3. Miscellaneous - including but not limited to: Hearing your son do A'anim Zemirot, (especially when the shul does it in the middle of davening and not at the end, very tricky) and candy throwing for bar mitzvah/Shabbat Chatan (especially when you are the ones BRINGING the candy and you start walking down the train tracks on Emek Refaim to get to Uncle Jonathan's shul and you realize 10 minutes in that you are walking the WRONG WAY down the tracks, and when you announce that fact in a shrieky sort of way, your daughter says, mildly, "Yeah, I thought we were, but I figured you knew what you were doing." I mean, sheesh, after 10.5 years of parenting, shouldn't she know by now that Mommy never knows what she's doing? Especially if it involves hairdos, conjugating numbers and directions?)

Anyway, the point is, you have to get to shul, and you certainly don't want to miss the Thing, but if you get there too early, you run the risk of blowing through all of your candy/toy cars/crackers/arm muscles during the Boring Pre-Thing Things (aka "prayer") and then during the actual Thing you have a kvetchy, bored, suddenly very LOUD child on your hands. And you wonder, once again, why no one has invented Shabbat-friendly Mind-Texting so your husband can alert you from shul. (You've got Mind Mail! "Almost at end of layning. Come now.") Or maybe a shul crier. (No, not my 3 year old). You know, someone who stands on the rooftop announcing loudly what they're up to inside.

Just this past week, Nadav and I tried to go to shul for his favorite part: the end. My heart sank as I walked in and through the looking glass saw everyone inside seated. Because you know what seated means. Seated means speech, which means it is a good - I mean bad - chunk of time before shul is over.

Anyway. So as for me, well, I'm just gearing up for this week's Thing. My bags are packed, my arms are ripped. Wish me luck and the magic of perfect timing. And if you are working on Mind Mail - hurry the heck up!!!

It's Award Time!

The blog that brought you "Lowering Your Standards Every Day" now brings you ...

A Parenting Award!

Qualifications: You must have a child.

To win: Is your child alive? Fed? (Clean is optional but definitely not required).

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU DESERVE A PARENTING AWARD!

The award is chocolate or candy (for you), directly from my Secret Candy Hiding Stash. (Where is that hiding place? I can't tell you but let's just say Mommy isn't reaching for the cleaning spray five times a day.) Come by any time to claim your prize.

No need to bring alive, non-hungry (despite what they claim) child for proof. I believe you.

The Trouble With Tongues

With thanks to Rachel, who reminded me that this insane little episode in our lives would make a great blog post.

So you know how preschoolers are generally an easygoing, laid back crowd? With their "Sure, Mom, no problem. Whatever makes it easier for you" attitude?

Some things you may hear from the 3 or 4-year-old set:

"Oh we are out of my favorite cereal? No worries. I'll eat something else."
"I'll wear that. Of course."
"He can go first this time."
"You're right. It IS too dark and too cold to go to the park now. Perhaps another time?"
"Please."
"Thank you."
"You're right I DO have to pee."
"I understand. I can't have that toy right now/eat cake for dinner/fly to America tonight/will a persimmon to appear in the fridge, using the formidable powers of my mind."
"Here - have some time with my toy. Sharing is awesome."
"Let me give you some privacy in there. I can wait."

Or, as we used to say back in the '90s: NOT!

But as crazy as your preschooler is, your bilingual preschooler is EVEN crazier! And I'm not talking about mangled sentences like, "Ani rotzeh show you mashehu cool." Or confusing "rhymes" with "translations." (No, "blue" and "kachol" do NOT rhyme.)

So last night, we had hot dogs for dinner. Nadav excitedly ran to the table when I announced "hot dogs are ready!" but then glanced disgustedly down at this plate. He was not, he announced, going to eat this plebian "naknikiah." He was promised HOT DOGS. I tried, in many various forms, to explain that a "naknikiah" is a "hot dog" in Hebrew. They mean THE SAME. They are THE SAME THING. No, he insisted. Mommy is holding out on delectable hot dogs -- how fun do they sound???? It is probably the most delicious thing ever! -- and trying to appease me with this sad, limp little "naknikiah."

Well, he did the only reasonable thing left to do: Ate the hot dog, realized how much he loved it and sent his compliments to the chef.

No, fool! As if! Are you even paying attention? He OF COURSE threw himself down on the floor with such force I was afraid there was going to be a Nadav-shaped hole in our floor and wailed. WAILED I tell you. Tears, streaming. The kind we save for "Mommy and Daddy are going out for a little here is an unsuspecting teenager to take care of you" or someone washing netilat yadayim before him. I offered him different dinner options (cereal, natch)  but he was not to be swayed. He was going to have HOT DOGS or die trying.

Finally, Ariella was able to calm him, using the age-old trick of offering him something completely random and irrelevant ("Do you want to rest in Ariella's bed?"). This shocked him, mid-wail, effectively taking the "outing" of his "shouting," leaving us only with the "sh."

He then agreed to eat cereal for dinner.

I was never more grateful than I was at that moment that "cornflakes," in Hebrew, is "cornflakes."

A New Blog (Donny's) and a New Downward Spiral (Mine)

First, I would like to wish us all a mazel tov on expanding the By Accident family. You will notice on the blogroll a brand new blog: Donny's "Investing by Accident." Come for the snark, stay for the sound financial advice!

In other news, I am catching up on my parenting magazines (aka "You're Doing It Wrong.") My mother-in-law is here from America and she always very kindly brings me a bundle of magazines. Yay! That's the good news. The bad news is that it turns out I am even a more terrible parent than I originally thought. Apparently my motto of "Lowering your standards, one day at a time" does not put you on the fast track for winning parenting accolades.

For example, this nugget of wisdom: "Instead of sticking the stuffed animals in the washing machine, we let Kaytleen take them into the bath with her. The toys get clean and Kaytleen has fun!" 
Wait a minute. I'm supposed to be washing them? On a regular basis? And the stuffed animals too? Craaaaaaap.

Also, I am so, so losing at the Food Art contest. To encourage my children to eat a wide variety of nutritious, healthy, colorful foods (and no, Fruity Pebbles do NOT meet the criteria, I'm told), I am supposed to craft cucumbers into lilypads and cauliflower into fluffy clouds and fish into, I don't know, fish? and spaghetti squash into a wholesome, nourishing noose so I can slowly hang myself.

Would the parenting powers that be, do you think, approve of "Hot dog is a protein and ketchup is a vegetable" night(s)?

Sigh. I didn't think so, either.

Anyway, as I bravely continue my downward spiral, parenting-wise, neither making cozy homemade felt animals nor helping my children develop creative zeal nor creating a Gratitude Garland nor being nicer to myself by "freshening up my surroundings" nor sculpting my salad nor doing anything with the scandalous-sounding "decoupage" (me, I try to stay covered up) nor Being Loving but Also at the Same Time Firm (oh so that's the trick???) nor -- oooh what's this item? "Cuddle up in New Pajamas?" That I can get on board with. Parenting magazines, I knew I always liked you. Let me change and I'll be right back.

What did you do today? One question, Two Perspectives

[Note: All names and identifying details have been changed.]

Here's what happens when I ask the children what happened at school.

What did you do today?

A Certain Child: We finished our Yerushalayim project.

Oh? A Yerushalayim project? What was it?

It was ... it doesn't matter.

What did you do today?

A Certain Different Child: So we had a Yerushalayim project, remember when I told you about that? So the teacher put us in groups and I was with Meytal but then Meytal didn't come today because she had a wedding last night for her cousin. No, I think it was her uncle. Maybe her cousin. I don't remember. So she didn't come for the first period when we were doing the project, so instead the teacher said I could be in Rotem's group but Rotem always bothers me, she's so annoying, she thinks she is so cool and smart and she talks like this, "Oh reeeeaaallly?" all the time and I was so mad I had to be in her group. Then we started the project, we have to do a game about Yerushalayim. So I was going to say Bingo, but Liat, she's also in my group, but I like her, and did you know her mom is going to have another baby? She really wants it to be a girl. Then Liat said, maybe we should do a game where you have to answer questions. And I really wanted to do my idea you know why? Because with Bingo you can just come up with different names and things about Yerushalayim and with a question game everyone has to come up with questions and not everyone is so good at that but no one else wanted Bingo even though I really think it's the best idea. So we said everyone would think of five questions because there are five people in the group so that's 25 questions altogether and one of my questions is "Which is a name of Yerushalayim?" but I have to think of 3 wrong answers also. Do you any ideas? What are some wrong answers? Mommy? Do you have ideas? So then after we decided that everyone would think of questions at home, we started making the board for the game but then Ora from another group, I sometimes like her and sometimes don't, she was going out to the bathroom and she stepped on our paper and we were so angry but she said "I didn't do it on purpose" but you know she could have been more careful where she was walking so now we had done so much work already but we had to color over where her footprints were. And the teacher didn't even do anything to her! Even though she messed up our board! "It's not so bad, it's easy to fix." Humph. Well, she's not the one who had to fix it! And we used Tali's markers, she has those really cool sparkly ones, can you get those for me Mommy? So it came out so pretty. Then we said we would all get together after school to finish because we didn't have time to finish it all because the bell rang and we had to go to science. Science is so boring, oh and we have a test on Wednesday. So, Mommy, can I go to Shirat's house after school? Or maybe I'll tell them all to come here - can we have pasta for dinner? Mommy?

The Hidden Costs of Vacation

This past week was Chanukah vacation. Various kids were home for various chunks of it. Today, Nadav has decided to grant me a vacation extension. In the form of being sick. "Ani lo holech gan hayom," he explained to me. "Yeladim acherim holech, aval ani lo holech." (Question, Loyal Readers: Do you prefer Hebrew written ככה or kachah? In Hebrew or transliterated? I often transliterate because of this thing I have called Lazy. As in, too lazy to press alt+shift and then hunt and peck. But let me know. Your opinion Matters.)

So he's sleeping - in my bed, natch - and instead of using nap time to clean or shower or work I'm spending it on this post. Cuz I love you.

Right. Where was I? Vacation. We didn't do anything this past week, as my children pointedly reminded me. No chu"l, no Eilat. One quick trip to Kever Shmuel Hanavi/Nebi Samuel on the Friday of Chanukah and then a Microsoft day at the movies on Sunday comprised our entire family fun-ness. (Ulpan by accident digression: The movie we saw was "Frozen." We had to see it in Hebrew of course, because that's how kids movies work here. Adult movies = English with subtitles. But because many children, especially under the ages of 8/9, can't read that fast - dumb kids - they can't use subtitles in kids movies. They have to dub them. This means that instead of watching "Hunger Games" in English, we had to watch "Frozen" in Hebrew. That, right there? It's called "good parenting," people. It's called "sacrificing for your kids." So we didn't complain, too much. On the upside, the movie was actually pretty good and I understood most of it! This means I now have Disney-level Hebrew! The first step on the ladder to News-level Hebrew! Also, I learned another word. As we passed a "Hunger Games" poster (we'll see you soon, my sweet), I said "Why does it say 'התלקחות?' Doesn't that mean taking a shower?" Ariella looks at me. "It means something that catches fire." Which makes MUCH more sense.)

Anyway, back to vacation. So there were no big expenses, is what I'm saying. No airfare or hotels or lotsa takeout. But in any vacation, even a lame one, there are hidden costs:

1. Going food shopping with Nadav. (or any of the children, really. The big ones are helpful but still approach food shopping with a "What can I get Mommy to buy for me, and then how can I get her to buy MORE?") But I particularly try to avoid shlepping Nadav with me. However, it was Sunday morning, everyone was home, I announced I was going and offered for people to come with me. But it was not Ariella-who-stands-in-the-cheese-line-for-me who wanted to come, it was Nadav-aval-ani-ohev-et-zeh who came. He was super jazzed, but he's not used to the extended production of a Sunday morning food shopping. I was about 7 minutes into the shopping when he wanted to know when we were going home. Then, after every item I placed in my cart, he asked, "Now? Now we're done?" And, as everyone who has shopped with kids knows, the only way to survive is let them pick out treats:

 a. Box of Kariot cereal  = NIS ~23. Nadav INSISTED that he LOVES this vile, "nougat"-filled Shabbat cereal. Guess what? He doesn't. (The other two were horrified. "But Mommy," they said, munching through their third bowel of Cap'n Crunch, "It's disgusting!" What can I say, my children have an American-honed sense of sugar cereals. Telma just doesn't cut it.)

b. Animal crackers = NIS 8. Yep, another Nadav pick. He wanted to then pick "shalosh" to put in a bag but when I showed him how much "shalosh" was he changed his mind. He meant the "shalosh" that's actually "HARBAY!"

2. Shokos = NIS ~20. Everywhere we went, throw another shoko in the cart.

3. Breakfast with Ariella = NIS 100. I had this great plan that we would go to a cafe, get breakfast, then I would work while she would read. Well, the first part of that plan went well. The bread was delicious.

4. Sufganiot. NIS waytoomuch. Run an errand, get a sufganiyah. Repeat. Though by the end of the week, Ariella had her fill. "I don't want a sufganiot. They are too sweet! [Pause]. Can I get a bag of candy instead?" Because logic.

5. Art projects. NIS 70, bought me an hour of work.

7. Movies at home = $30. (However, watching Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark as a family was a truly special experience. Especially for Nadav, who fulfilled the important role of "Third child watching movies that are wildly inappropriate for him." Picture your oldest. Now picture him/her watching Indiana Jones when they were three. You're laughing, right? But Nadav enjoyed (almost) every minute. "Ani lo ohev ha'snakes," he declared)

8. Ariella's day of fun in Jerusalem with Aunt/Tante Talia = NIS 100 for bus fare (took it into Jerusalem all by herself, like a boss) and other sundry activities. But, really, a day of fun with the coolest aunt that was pretty much a montage of Ariella's Favorite Things? Swimming-shuk-McDonald's-Book Store-Aunt Talia. Worth every agurah.

9. Overpriced toys in the supermarket. NIS 50. I had a good reason for buying these, I think. Or maybe not. It's possible there was no good reason at all, except they asked and I agreed because it was the end of the week and whatever it will take to keep you quiet and happy.

8. My sanity. (I would say "priceless," but really, it's just the cost of a few cups of  coffee.) When I was working = "Oh my god I'm such a bad mom!" when I was with my kids = "Oh my god I'm such a bad employee!" #can'twin

I always have a love/hate relationship with these vacation weeks. Cuz I love the break in routine, but also I don't. It's like that. Anyway, we are now heading into our longest stretch of routine ever, thanks to Adar I & II. Leap year = money saving strategy. Looking forward to many months of not buying Kariot.