The Outer Limits

A few weeks ago, we participated in the Shabbos Project. Originally meant as a Shabbat to encourage your non-observant Jewish acquaintances to give Shabbos a try, it seems to have taken a life of its own and now turned into a communal Shabbos celebration of "We are here. We are keeping it. Yay us!" Ok, I will admit that there is good coming out from the sense of not doing it alone, but it leaves me wondering what is lacking.

Our shul held a communal lunch where members were encouraged to share their "Shabbos at the outer limits" stories. I had one come to mind and was prepared to share it. However, I have waited for a clarification that explained that stories are to be heard by the Rosh Kollel and he will give feedback on how appropriately one acted, given the circumstances.

The stories came pouring in: wine brought over on Shabbos, electronic appliances malfunctioning, fridge lights turning on, naughty babies unplugging essential components threatening to cause major damage, menorah fire... Each participant shared and Rosh Kollel nicely explained what was at stake and how it could have been solved halachically.

I found myself feeling glad that I did not go first, and then unable to share in this format because my story seemed a world away from the concerns being voiced. I also felt that my story was not a halachic shaila, but in some other category.

I am fifteen. I have been to the States for two years, attending a Jewish high school, learning about Judaism and observance. Now, finally, as originally promised, I am given a ticket to go back to Moldova and visit my parents whom I have not seen in those two years. I am excited because I have been very homesick. But I am also very nervous: in these two years I have decided to become observant. My parents can be simply described as atheists. Now, I am going back to post-Soviet Union country in the middle of the nineties. The globalization had not reached that far (yet), so there is no kosher packaged food, no paper goods. There is no Google, internet is in its infancy. And I am going back, determined to keep Shabbat and kashrut among my family that expects me to come back and be the same person that I was when I left two years ago. I am supposed to eat my grandma's cooking. I am supposed to milk those precious two months for every opportunity to be with my parents and do what they do, Shabbos and all its prohibitions getting in the way.

I fought a lot with my parents about shabbos, on kashrut, on beliefs, on observance, on being brainwashed, on tears that this is not what they signed up for. I kashered whatever silverware they had that was all metal. I cleaned all glass/pyrex containers and plates that they had. ( I felt terribly guilty for not toveling those dishes). I became a vegetarian because there was no kosher meat, short of going to the Chabad rabbi with your own live chicken and then plucking it yourself. Besides, it was easier, kashrut-wise, for everything to be dairy and parve. I brought four cans of tuna from the States and those cans were my way to honor Shabbat. The local rabbi told us that the baguette bread could be eaten, so I ate lots of bread, vegetables, pasta, milk and dairy.

I had a list of candle-lighting times, so I knew when to light the candles. I made havdalah based on when I saw three stars. Instead of the elevator, I used the back entrance to the apartment buidling with the stairs. It reeked of urine and worse and was pitch-black for the two flights of stairs.

And I stayed away from the always-booming TV that drew me in. I used the bathroom in the dark because someone always forgot to leave the light on, or turned it off not to waste electricity.

I made kiddush and hamotzi. I spent time with my long-suffering family that was far from the enjoyable shabbat seudah that comes to one's mind. We did not discuss Torah unless I was called upon to defend it, with my total of two years' of learning.

The truth is, nobody would have known whether I kept Shabbat and kashrut when I went back home or not. I sort of wonder whether the assumption was that I WILL NOT keep it and we will all be quiet about it, don't ask, don't tell sort of thing. But I knew that G-d will know, and I wanted to be pure before G-d.

Ironically, that same summer, I had a meeting with a senior rabbi who was in charge of the program that brought Russian Jews to study in America and Israel. I showed disobedience by refusing to be a pawn and to go to a new city that he picked for me to go. I wanted to stay in the same school and with the same community that gave me the fortitude to keep Shabbat by myself halfway across the world at the age of fifteen. He was not pleased, and he was going to punish me by withdrawing the funding to continue going to the same school. I wonder how he will be judged after 120 for abandoning a Shabbat-observant girl in Moldova to fend for herself... I wonder if he also thought that I was not keeping Shabbos.

Looking back, I don't know how I did it. I would not eat nowadays by the level of kashrut that I kept at that point. I don't think I knew enough to keep Shabbat 100%. But given the circumstances, I know that I gave it my best shot.

How could I bring this extreme situation to the judgment of Rosh Kollel? How could I share it publicly when the biggest emergency meant simply finding a non-Jew to turn something on or off, and aah, breathe in the spirit of Shabbat, make a good story about it?

I sometimes wonder why my outer limits always end up so far outside of everyone else's.

unstructured learning

We went to a homeschool day at the local nature center. 10 yo did not want to go, had to be practically convinced and dragged over there. The formal programs there leave much to be desired. They are run by a former public school teacher with years and years of experience. All that I see are crowd control techniques: rotate through stations, listen to instructions, do not interrupt.

So why do we keep going back?

8 yo decided to participate in indoor scavenger hunt, looking for images of ten song birds. He had to find them and write them down on a clipboard, then to turn the list in. He worked with a friend, looking and searching, persisting at a task for close to an hour. He also wrote them all down. Was that cheating? Collaboration? Was this writing practice? Sticking to a task? Not giving up in the face of difficulties?

5 yo made a new friend, whom she played with and followed around.

10 yo traded in his fossilized fish bone.

1 yo spent a lot of time looking at a mole snake, watching it slither. Then, just as he was losing interest, one of the employees came with a spray bottle. She opened the exhibit, pulled out the case, lifted the lid, and misted the habitat. I told 1 yo that the snake was getting a shower. He sat in my lap, fascinated. Then she offered to take it out, as long as he wouldn't touch it. He really got a close look at that snake! I asked about the heavy rocks on the lid, and was told that these snakes are very strong and can lift up the lid of the enclosure and escape. We got this close and personal look, totally unplanned.

One thing that I learned from the past three years of homeschooling is that a lot of learning happens in unstructured, "unproductive" moments. Homeschooling is not about advancing through grades, or filling out worksheets, or passing tests. Learning is not quantifiable, but it happens when there is an opportunity for it to happen. If one passively sits and waits for someone to tell them what to learn and what to know, they are guaranteed to fail. They will not remember anything beyond the point of required recall. The point of learning is to "own it", have a stake in it, be interested for its own sake.

Which brings me to my "next year" dilemma. Now I am leaning to sending out the two youngest kids: 5 yo and 1 yo. 5 yo wants to go to school, "to see what it's like", and 1 yo manages to disrupt and destroy faster than I can blink. I know that many homeschool families choose to send kids to preschool until kindergarten age, precisely to be able to focus on the older kids. I also know that 5 yo would be ridiculously easy to homeschool. Today we davened together, and then we did the first lesson from "Derech Bina". I was planning on focusing exclusively on reading, not being sure how much writing she can do (the primer is meant for Hebrew school kids who are in 2nd grade). This girl insisted on doing the writing page, too. And she managed just fine, with some direction. Then, in the afternoon, we doled out allowance. We start at 5, a quarter for each year of age, so she gets a dollar and a quarter. Then we give tzedakah, which is ten percent, so that's 12 cents in her case. I point out the coins for her, let her figure out their value, show her how to make change from the quarter that she gets into dimes and pennies so she can give tzedakah. Then she counts up her dollar bills and we use a hundreds chart to calculate cents. "Can this be my math?" Of course, dear, this is your math, only it is meaningful and useful math. 1 yo gets a penny to put into tzedakah box.

I look at her day, so full, and then I wonder what is the school going to give her that she is not already getting at home. She might end up with a morah who is calmer than a sleep-deprived mommy, yelling at her older brothers. She will get to do more projects, more worksheets. She might get exposed to ways of counting and reading that I am not familiar with. But is all this academic material worth more than having freedom to play for hours, to choose what to learn, and to be with her family?

climb every mountain... because it's there

Where we live, there is a famous mountain. It is a major tourist attraction. It looms over the city. It has a park and hiking trails. Surprisingly, we have never climbed it. I took kids on a hiking trail next to it last summer, and, of course, they asked when are we going to climb the mountain. I said, one day (constant refrain). Then I was busy being exhausted while being pregnant. Then my belly became too big for Ergo to carry my daughter in. Then I had a newborn. Then something else happened. And something else. In short, there were multiple reasons why climbing this mountain was getting postponed.

Deep in my heart, I was hoping to check it out, climb it one day when the kids are in camp, and it's just me and the baby. I was even considering one day last week, but there was a high chance of rain. It rained the whole week. I was crabby. This week rolled in. This is the last week of camp for the kids. This morning I told myself: it is going to be today. I will walk up the mountain.

I am sure that there are plenty of people who live here and have never been to the summit. I am sure there are plenty of people who took the cable car up and down. I am sure that there are plenty of reasons why I should not be climbing this mountain. But it has been calling me, and here I was, at the bottom, ready to ascend.

I put the baby in Baby K'tan, grabbed an over-the-shoulder diaper bag, and went. I've got a few comments on the way: ooh, she's doing it with a baby! I also looked worriedly at sweat-drenched people descending. But I also saw another mom, who had one kid in a backpack, and another small one whom she was encouraging to walk. I mentioned to her how I admire her stamina. As I keep walking up, more and more beautiful views were opening up. I have been reading up on watercolor painting, and each view made me think of what a gorgeous picture it would make. At some point I saw the birds soaring eye-level. I saw the plants stubbornly pushing through the rocks. I kept walking up, one foot in front of the other.

I made it to the summit, following a much older gentleman. He was a tall, skinny man, slightly stooped; walking slowly, yet purposefully. He was at least four decades older than I am. I kept thinking: if he can do it, I can do it.

The baby slept the whole time, his face looking upward. Standing on the summit, taking in the view I've got that sweet rush of success. I did it! The mountain called, and here I was! The sky, the trees, the sheer expanse of rock. Top of the world.

There on the summit I got a phone call from my mother. I knew better than to tell her exactly what I have been to, but I did say that I was out walking with a baby and checking out a hiking trail. She immediately came up with the reasons why I should not be doing this. I could have told her about my dream of getting up here. I could have spun it into exercise. I could have told her that she is shooting down my dream. I did not. I just told her that I make my own decisions.

We made it!

On the way down, I thought: how many times do we say "no", and for no good reason? My kids certainly have their own dreams and ideas. They usually need my help in implementing them, and I am usually too distracted to listen carefully, and think whether my reflexive "no" will shoot down yet another dream. How many times I have my own dreams, and I shoot them down myself, because I have been trained to be sensible...

I am planning on printing out some photos from my climb and posting them everywhere around the house, to remind me that sometimes mountains need to be climbed simply because they are there.

the summit

I hope they are still happily married

the sky reflecting in a puddle

constructive destruction

Yesterday I did not have any formal school planned: the kids were coming back from a sleepover at my in-laws, I had an ultrasound scheduled midday, and there was tae kwon do in the afternoon. I figured it is not worth fighting everyone to get those few pages of work filled up, but the kids had other plans. My mother-in-law sent over a few broken electronics, and they were eager to take them apart.

Here they are, sitting on the deck with three screwdrivers, undoing the screws. It is like advanced present unwrapping: you do not know what you are going to get. Yesterday they did not get too far, but it took them a good hour and lots of teamwork and taking turns to get the cover all the toy and to remove the batteries.

Today 6 yo was going to a Marine Mammal day camp for a few hours, run by a fellow homeschooler. This means a ten-year old girl, who is fundraising to go to a camp herself. 8 yo was sulking in the morning: he gets to pack his lunch, he gets to have fun, he gets to do cool things, while I am stuck here on a cold rainy horrible day and nothing good ever happens to me. This attitude gives me a bad rise ( until I pause and realize that there are plenty of times I feel like that too: oh, poor me, why me, why is this all happening to me?) Either way, I was not sure how much more of this moping I could take. Then I mentioned to my husband how today is trash pick up and could he put our old broken TV/VCR combo by the curb? And then I had an idea: I asked 8 yo if he would like to disassemble it instead. That turned everything around; the day went from horrible to great, there was eagerness to get work done, and he got to davening right away.

This is what 8 yo did today: finished Level 1 of Rosetta Stone, did a page of Lashon HaTorah, translated three pesukim in Chumash, learned letter "k" in script and did multiplication in math. Additionally, he drummed for half an hour, stood in line at the polls and helped me in the grocery store. 6 yo did these before his camp even started: a page of a new unit in Lashon HaTorah, HWT and math. All of this was done by 2:30, including lunch.

As soon as 8 was done, he went downstairs, lugged the TV by himself up the stairs, got the screwdrivers and went at it.

There were oohs and aahs when the cathode tube emerged. The boys fond the processor, the speaker and the induction coils in the motor. 8 yo disconnected the gears in the rewind/fast forward mechanism. I showed them the resistors and the capacitors. Everyone was busily occupied for nice long while. I just regretted that I do not know more about electronics to show them around.

Opening the cover

There is a large question on what motivates the kids: star charts, reward boxes, prizes, bribery. Most of these are materialistic rewards and are extrinsic. The parents and the teachers are reduced to the status of dog trainers: if you do this, you get that, and if you do not do this, you lose that. I see how it works, and I see that when you are at your wits' end, this gives you a way out. But can't we expect more from humans than we expect from dogs? Can't we find what makes humans tick, and feed into that?

freeing the cathode tube

playing with induction coils

Right now, taking things apart is that extrinsic motivator. There is a process of discovery, and channeling destruction, and surprise and applying what you know to a new situation. And my gut feeling is, this is what learning is truly supposed to be about. All those pages of work that were done in the morning, that are lying neatly in the boys' binders, they are nothing compared to what they took away from this old broken TV.

the ups and downs

We had our siyum in Cupz and Cake. When I got up, both boys were dressed, and sitting quietly on the couch, reading, ready to go. The breakfast went well, till we got to the decadent desserts, which made everyone a bit too hyper and proved to be a bit too rich to finish.

8 yo wrote Rosh HaShana cards. He wrote on one card the whole "Leshana Tova..." in Hebrew, out of his own free will. When it came time to address the envelopes, it took him four tries to get it right. I am not talking perfection, I am talking that the post office would actually deliver the letter: on the right side, with the right amount of lines, legible, in the middle of the envelope. He did two today, I wonder if he will do more tomorrow or later. I wonder how many adults would give up after the first try. Or, maybe, not try at all.

6 yo cracked his first chapter book. It was Captain Underpants. I cringe. I cannot believe this book is in our house. I cannot believe that out of all other great books we have (Magic Tree House, abridged classics, etc), THIS is what he is interested in reading. But I think that it is written lightly, with 6 yo boy humor, and he occasionally stops to tell me a joke. He is comprehending and talking about what he is reading. Just before I am ready to shrug my shoulders, I see that he put it down and switched over to Artscroll's Children's Book of Yonah. Now I have no objections, and he is equally engaged.

8 yo cannot figure out a basic addition problem in math. I am at my wits' end. We finished the review of basic addition/subtraction. He understands everything he has to do, but he has no sense that the answer to "something minus seven is three" cannot be "four". I pull out an abacus to show him what it means. He tells me that he is embarrassed, but I do not see comprehension. I doubt myself. I doubt my approach to math. I wonder whether he just does not have number sense, whether all the math he does happens mindlessly, mechanically. I am worried that he will end up like most Americans, with so many years of math schooling, and no conception of what it all means. But then he sits down and designs a perfect paper airplane, with smooth, straight, far flight, and perfect balance. Then he tells me that he wants to learn how to design computer ads. Then he knows exactly who Neil Armstrong was. Then he spends the afternoon reading his history book. Then I see that there is nothing to despair over.

6yo screams about mental math problems. He has to count till seven, I know he knows how to count till seven. He believes that he can't. He threw his pencil, he got his pencil, he is writhing on the floor. I am calm. I am not calm any more. I tell him to go outside and cool off. He throws his pencil again. I tell him he lost his dessert. He finishes his mental problems. He melts down over trying to draw fish to illustrate one of the problems. The fish look like circles with squiggly tails. I can tell that he gave up on the fish. He eerily knows exactly how to illustrate all the problems, only they all have abstract circles in different groupings. I think of my husband, who claims that he cannot draw. I think about my father, he claimed the same thing. I think how yesterday 6 yo declared his 2 yo sister to be a great artist, based on her expressive doodles. I think how 2 yo has no problem doodling anything she wants, and then declaring that this is a house, and this is a person, and there is some green over there, all stripey.

After all the schoolwork is done, 6 yo enters the kitchen:
"Mommy, you are making me do all this work which wastes time!"
"What is it that you want to do?"
"I want to have time to play!"

After this, he proceeded to read Captain Underpants.

overdoing it

I wish I could say today was better...

I went to work out at 6 am. I came out exhausted instead of energized.

I packed up everything the night before, planning to go to coop classes and then to the zoo which is in the same park as coop. Everything except the ipod which I use for music during story time. The ipod was in the car, so I sent kids out in the morning to get it so I could update playlist. It took three kids 15 minutes and minute instructions to find it.

Then we got to the classes. I led the toddler class, while the boys did Destruction and Fun with Numbers. 8 yo came out of his class with a Shmusophone, which he proudly wore around his neck and extracted interesting sounds from. 6 yo came with number kite which he took for a flight outside.

I spent the next class time cutting out bunny ears for next week's story time. Then the boys made sugar cube pyramids held together with frosting. They were convinced that it is not kosher, but I checked with the teacher and reassured them that they can eat it.

Then we went to the zoo and lunched there. I told boys the could have five sugar cubes off their pyramids. I printed out a page asking each one to find five kosher and not kosher animals and to write them down. Then, at home, we were supposed to look up their names in Hebrew. We started with pandas which were awake and sprawled on their backs, eating bamboo. I told boys to try to sit/lay in that position and eat.

Next was tigers/carnivores. 6yo got his head inside a giant skull. Then we walked to Komodo dragon, and 6 yo wrote it as his non kosher animal. He camped out next to the sign and copied it. We spent a while in the reptile house, and boys found lots of non kosher things there.

Then they complained that there are no kosher animals in the zoo till 6 yo remembered the giraffe. On the way we saw a duck, so that also made the kosher list. The giraffes were amazing, trying to eat leaves off the tall tree with their long purple tongues. That's where 8 yo's list got blown out of his hands and into giraffe's enclosure. He got very upset and I was hoping he would come up with some kind of solution.

Parakeet house was next. I was tired and thought that my whole idea of a list was a bad one. The boys, meanwhile, found some sticks with a few grains still stuck to them and tried getting parakeets to come and sit. There is a lot of patience required in waiting out a parakeet. I did not have it then, but boys persisted in holding their sticks and luring the birds.

Next, I walked the boys to the farm and the remembered that sheep and goats are kosher. 6 yo checked out the hooves and they both brushed them. 2 yo was very tired by this point. She is also afraid of goats, but this time, she asked to go in.

For the final activity, we did a train ride and a carousel ( our zoo has passport program where if you come very month for 6 months, you get the rest of year carousel and train for free).

By the time we got home, 2 yo was fast asleep, 6 yo was complaining about the song in the car and I was done. I asked the boys to help me bring in all the objects from the car. That's when 8 yo kicked a 6 yo and marched everyone home and declared pajama time. By the lack of complaints, I know it was a wise choice.

For dinner, we were supposed to have fish and chips. I told boys that if they peel the potatoes, I will fry them, otherwise, it will be something else. 6 yo started on peeling and promptly peeled his finger. 8 yo took over, but got distracted in the middle by a bug in the sun room. I figured that if he does not come back, the potatoes are just not happening. He returned after 10 minutes and finished those potatoes.

Right after dinner, I collapsed onto the couch.

Each part of the day was fine, but altogether, it was too much.