My oldest did not stay up for the second Seder, at all.
My daughter, 8yo, stayed up for both sedarim, but we were paid back in an abundantly cranky child. My youngest finished off Yom Tov by throwing up in the car on the way to get that first chametz fix post-Pesach. So good that we are so flexible, such good sports, just came back home, changed the baby, wiped more vomit, stopped at Kroger for packaged bagels instead of piping hot Krispy Kreme...
On Monday, 2 yo stayed home because I do not like spreading stomach yuck to other preschool kids. Thank G-d she napped, but it took me a good half an hour of lying down next to a whirling dervish till she settled down.
On Tuesday, 8 yo broke a pinkie finger playing soccer at recess, so good thing I had pesach matzagna stashed away for dinner that night because we paid an unexpected visit to urgent care. Kids ignored the matzagna, especially 5 yo who yelled his head off that there is nothing yummy to eat and went to sleep without dinner by choice.
Today is my oldest's birthday. He is 14 and I do not feel as optimistic about this whole teen maturation thing. What I do get is a shlep to get Chinese takeout for his birthday dinner while the other boy is at his science nature physics class. Then I get to pick him up, rush him home, quickly dump the groceries and go pick up the rest of the children.
On Monday, when he is in extended drop-off at D&D, I get to go and take my daughter with her broken finger to an orthopedic surgeon to rule out that she needs surgery or cast or anything. Somehow, in the next little while, it does not look like there is a break coming.
My oldest finally rigged a hammock on the pergola, but my youngest uses it as a personal swing when she is home. She is quite possessive of it. I keep envisioning sitting in it, having a cuppa, enjoying the birdies chirping. My fantasy keeps getting rudely interrupted by the reality of many mommy, mommy, mommy, wah!
My youngest will be three at the end of the month. She is not even home for hours at a time. But whatever mojo I thought I would be getting back, whatever hopes and dreams I was supposed to accomplish, whatever schemes and plans were supposed to arise in my mind with the possibility of coming to fruition are lying dormant.
I am tired, bone-weary tired.
I kept wondering why mothers of many children do not write tell-all books. Now I know they do not have much to say except for hold them, love them, throw some food at them, yell some, and keep everyone alive. And somehow it will all pass.
Showing posts with label pesach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pesach. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2018
Monday, March 26, 2018
stress-free Pesach
I discovered the secret to a stress-free Pesach. I have been making Pesach for 15 years, so I had a lot of practice.
Listen, the secret is this:
But the biggest secret is that this year I cannot muster that care or anxiety or drive or whatever it is called that sends me into a frenetic cleaning and panic mode. If it will get done, it will get done. If it won't get done, then it won't. Contrasting to the previous years, I have cried from Pesach stress only once so far (but there is still four more days, so stay tuned, freak-out might be coming). This could care less attitude resulted in me yelling at my teary-eyed daughter who wanted to make meringues with me. Too bad it was way after her bedtime. She refused to go to bed. She stalled. And then she came to tell me how she waited THE WHOLE YEAR to make those meringues. Well, I needed them to be the last thing I made for the night because they need to sit in the oven overnight to dry out. So I callously yelled at her. (The meringues turned out sticky. Midda kneged midda? An opportunity for another batch?)
The truth is, I am suffering from caregiver fatigue. When you spend so much time, so much energy and control yourself so much in order to care for someone, you become callous and snappy to everyone else. Sadly, the nearest and dearest did not notice that I have snapped.
But there were all those years and all those babies. And all those people who expected to be hosted, and doted on. And I did all that, all the while slowly breaking inside.
I have invited company for Yom Tov because I feel like I am the fortunate one, without that baby on the hip this year. I am aware that there are others worse off than I am. But there is also a part of me that does not expect anything great from Pesach anymore. I used to plot and strategize how to engage the kids, what shtick to do, how to make Seder about an educational experience and not about the food or the mumbling of the Hagaddah. This year, it will be same old, same old. Someone will be crying. Someone will be complaining. Someone will be unhappy. The food and the effort will be lost in the less-than-pleasant atmosphere. The fun and the lightness: that will come with Chol Hamoed that my school kids await like the coming of Moshiach. But Pesach proper will grind on.
It would be so much easier if I did not think about all of this. It would be easier if I did not consider all the years of small babies and pregnancies as a cruel joke. I have one March baby and three April babies. Oh, you want more from your Yom Tov experience, do you? Well, what can you expect when the kids are little? But the kids do not stay little forever, and the older kids grow up in the shadow of parents being overwhelmed by the little ones. All they experience is stressed-out Pesach.
My oldest three have taken to skipping out on Shabbos lunch. First I rejoiced: they have peers who invite them out! Then I realized that it is not what they are running to that matters, it is what they are running from. By now, I don't know if I have it within me to stop the tide. I just hope that I have a few more years till the children will skip out on the family Seder.
As for me, I will go back to puttering in the kitchen, moving boxes of dishes, cooking in less-than-ideal conditions and focusing on not crying.
Listen, the secret is this:
- Don't be pregnant.
- Don't have a newborn.
- Don't be nursing.
- Don't have a crawling baby.
- Don't have children around who spread Cheerios all over multiple times a day.
- Put your children in school so you have plenty of time to hit multiple stores multiple times in search of out-of-town ingredients like yogurt and butter and parsnips.
- Don't make a bris on Pesach (or right after Pesach).
- Don't make a bar mitzvah on Pesach.
- Have year-round cleaning help.
But the biggest secret is that this year I cannot muster that care or anxiety or drive or whatever it is called that sends me into a frenetic cleaning and panic mode. If it will get done, it will get done. If it won't get done, then it won't. Contrasting to the previous years, I have cried from Pesach stress only once so far (but there is still four more days, so stay tuned, freak-out might be coming). This could care less attitude resulted in me yelling at my teary-eyed daughter who wanted to make meringues with me. Too bad it was way after her bedtime. She refused to go to bed. She stalled. And then she came to tell me how she waited THE WHOLE YEAR to make those meringues. Well, I needed them to be the last thing I made for the night because they need to sit in the oven overnight to dry out. So I callously yelled at her. (The meringues turned out sticky. Midda kneged midda? An opportunity for another batch?)
The truth is, I am suffering from caregiver fatigue. When you spend so much time, so much energy and control yourself so much in order to care for someone, you become callous and snappy to everyone else. Sadly, the nearest and dearest did not notice that I have snapped.
But there were all those years and all those babies. And all those people who expected to be hosted, and doted on. And I did all that, all the while slowly breaking inside.
I have invited company for Yom Tov because I feel like I am the fortunate one, without that baby on the hip this year. I am aware that there are others worse off than I am. But there is also a part of me that does not expect anything great from Pesach anymore. I used to plot and strategize how to engage the kids, what shtick to do, how to make Seder about an educational experience and not about the food or the mumbling of the Hagaddah. This year, it will be same old, same old. Someone will be crying. Someone will be complaining. Someone will be unhappy. The food and the effort will be lost in the less-than-pleasant atmosphere. The fun and the lightness: that will come with Chol Hamoed that my school kids await like the coming of Moshiach. But Pesach proper will grind on.
It would be so much easier if I did not think about all of this. It would be easier if I did not consider all the years of small babies and pregnancies as a cruel joke. I have one March baby and three April babies. Oh, you want more from your Yom Tov experience, do you? Well, what can you expect when the kids are little? But the kids do not stay little forever, and the older kids grow up in the shadow of parents being overwhelmed by the little ones. All they experience is stressed-out Pesach.
My oldest three have taken to skipping out on Shabbos lunch. First I rejoiced: they have peers who invite them out! Then I realized that it is not what they are running to that matters, it is what they are running from. By now, I don't know if I have it within me to stop the tide. I just hope that I have a few more years till the children will skip out on the family Seder.
As for me, I will go back to puttering in the kitchen, moving boxes of dishes, cooking in less-than-ideal conditions and focusing on not crying.
Monday, March 13, 2017
Minimalist Purim gone awry
Dear G-d, if this was supposed to be a joke, I am not finding it to be funny.
Two weeks ago I heard the rabbi speak in shul on the subject of happiness and Purim. He said how there is no specific prescription for happiness because everyone is happy in their own way. So I thought: this year, part of my happiness is not stressing about Purim. I will have a minimalistic Purim. I am no longer running Purim costume gemach that was a source of mitzvah, but also a source of tremendous personal headache. It was also a source of costumes for my kids, as I managed the donations and was on the lookout year-round for costumes to add. So this year, they had to make their own or tell me early enough what they wanted to do so I could buy it. Only 7 yo told me what she wanted to be: a baby (cue in processing complex emotions of not being a baby any more as she is becoming older and there are actual babies in the house). Her costume was footie pajamas, a bib, a giant plastic bottle and a diaper worn on the outside of the pajamas. I sort of tried to warn her that there might be conversations and remarks taking place over that diaper, but she shrugged them off. If rocking a diaper is what you want to do, you go girl! And just like that, she brushed off all the comments and wore her diaper.
To everyone else I suggested going as a swim team: everyone wears already existing bathing suits. 10 yo did it, I wore mine, and I put one on 4 yo and 1 yo. 12 yo went as an old Russian lady: a kerchief on his head, a patched blanket for his back, and a drumstick for a walking cane. He even learned a few Russian phrases to go with his look, for authenticity. My husband went as... drumroll... a doctor. Yeah, we went all out. And I did not stress about the costumes or keeping with a theme.
To continue my quest for minimalism, and to decrease stress, I decided that our mishloach manot will be a simple hamentash and a clementine in a paper bag. But then I panicked that the free-form hamentashen that my kids made were too free-form, so I spent a motzei shabbos making my own batch that would look more traditional. Except that I decided to use half whole wheat flour, to be creative. But I was also impatient, so I dumped it all together with the other ingredients and got sand crumbs instead of dough. Then I panicked and started adding water and oil to make the dough come together. When it did, it did not look nice, more like sand held together with water. So much for simplicity and minimalism. I shaped that batch, baked it, and hoped for the best.
On Friday before Purim I went to work assembling these michloach manot. I used brown paper sandwich bags, stuck a hamentash and a clementine inside and stapled them with a note that proclaimed package's minimalism. I was done in half an hour, feeling so smug about quick and easy way out from this task.
Comes Purim day and we are getting ready to deliver my preassembled batch when I see that the oil from the dough seeped through the paper bags, ripping some and producing ugly oil stains on the others. Now they do not look simple, now they look ready for the garbage... as 12 yo pointed out that I should have placed a hamentash in a plastic bag first (poor environment!) I blew up at him, how he did not lift a finger with these and now tells me what I should have done.
But really, I was mad at G-d.
I just wanted something to be simple. I just wanted something to work out. I wanted to rejoice in the simplicity of stress-free mishloach manot. Usually, we make turkey wraps and give them out with pickles and a hamentash on the side. It has been our staple, but it is labor-intensive and makes distribution difficult, as it needs to be either eaten or refrigerated. Then it also requires a note warning that the wrap is fleishig but the hamentash is parve.
By the time we were ripping open the oily bags, placing hamentashen into ziplocks and I was retyping the note with our name and theme (G-d forbid I would clutter my computer with a file that I wasn't planning on reusing) and then cutting the labels, I wondered out loud whether it would not have been easier to do those turkey wraps in the first place.
Then, as the return michloach manot started to arrive, I thought whether our minimalist package would bring anyone happiness.
I hope it did, come today, the day after Purim, when there is too much candy, too many sweets, and Pesach is only four weeks away.
Two weeks ago I heard the rabbi speak in shul on the subject of happiness and Purim. He said how there is no specific prescription for happiness because everyone is happy in their own way. So I thought: this year, part of my happiness is not stressing about Purim. I will have a minimalistic Purim. I am no longer running Purim costume gemach that was a source of mitzvah, but also a source of tremendous personal headache. It was also a source of costumes for my kids, as I managed the donations and was on the lookout year-round for costumes to add. So this year, they had to make their own or tell me early enough what they wanted to do so I could buy it. Only 7 yo told me what she wanted to be: a baby (cue in processing complex emotions of not being a baby any more as she is becoming older and there are actual babies in the house). Her costume was footie pajamas, a bib, a giant plastic bottle and a diaper worn on the outside of the pajamas. I sort of tried to warn her that there might be conversations and remarks taking place over that diaper, but she shrugged them off. If rocking a diaper is what you want to do, you go girl! And just like that, she brushed off all the comments and wore her diaper.
To everyone else I suggested going as a swim team: everyone wears already existing bathing suits. 10 yo did it, I wore mine, and I put one on 4 yo and 1 yo. 12 yo went as an old Russian lady: a kerchief on his head, a patched blanket for his back, and a drumstick for a walking cane. He even learned a few Russian phrases to go with his look, for authenticity. My husband went as... drumroll... a doctor. Yeah, we went all out. And I did not stress about the costumes or keeping with a theme.
To continue my quest for minimalism, and to decrease stress, I decided that our mishloach manot will be a simple hamentash and a clementine in a paper bag. But then I panicked that the free-form hamentashen that my kids made were too free-form, so I spent a motzei shabbos making my own batch that would look more traditional. Except that I decided to use half whole wheat flour, to be creative. But I was also impatient, so I dumped it all together with the other ingredients and got sand crumbs instead of dough. Then I panicked and started adding water and oil to make the dough come together. When it did, it did not look nice, more like sand held together with water. So much for simplicity and minimalism. I shaped that batch, baked it, and hoped for the best.
On Friday before Purim I went to work assembling these michloach manot. I used brown paper sandwich bags, stuck a hamentash and a clementine inside and stapled them with a note that proclaimed package's minimalism. I was done in half an hour, feeling so smug about quick and easy way out from this task.
Comes Purim day and we are getting ready to deliver my preassembled batch when I see that the oil from the dough seeped through the paper bags, ripping some and producing ugly oil stains on the others. Now they do not look simple, now they look ready for the garbage... as 12 yo pointed out that I should have placed a hamentash in a plastic bag first (poor environment!) I blew up at him, how he did not lift a finger with these and now tells me what I should have done.
But really, I was mad at G-d.
I just wanted something to be simple. I just wanted something to work out. I wanted to rejoice in the simplicity of stress-free mishloach manot. Usually, we make turkey wraps and give them out with pickles and a hamentash on the side. It has been our staple, but it is labor-intensive and makes distribution difficult, as it needs to be either eaten or refrigerated. Then it also requires a note warning that the wrap is fleishig but the hamentash is parve.
By the time we were ripping open the oily bags, placing hamentashen into ziplocks and I was retyping the note with our name and theme (G-d forbid I would clutter my computer with a file that I wasn't planning on reusing) and then cutting the labels, I wondered out loud whether it would not have been easier to do those turkey wraps in the first place.
Then, as the return michloach manot started to arrive, I thought whether our minimalist package would bring anyone happiness.
I hope it did, come today, the day after Purim, when there is too much candy, too many sweets, and Pesach is only four weeks away.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
post-Pesach
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| seder table 5:30 erev pesach |
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| seder table 6:30 erev pesach Kids have to eat |
Then it dawned on me: what's harder than having a Pesach baby? Trying to make Pesach with a 1 year old! She was doing her part to keep things interesting. She kept throwing things out of her high chair, and spreading those Cheerios everywhere. Besides, a baby of this age needs to be constantly watched. She does not sleep nearly as much as a newborn, and she does not yet have any common sense, but she is mobile and active. I did enclose the living room as a space where she could be contained, but she is only happy in there for so long before starting to cry. So, out of 13 years that I have made Pesach, I was heavily pregnant or with a newborn for 4, and with an acitve one year old for 5. That's nine years of challenges. No wonder I don't feel so gung-ho about Pesach any more.
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| seder table 7:30 erev pesach |
As for the seder prep, I pulled out my collection of Hagadahs, but the boys were most fascinated with The Exodus You Almost Passed Over by Rabbi Forhman. They both read it, and more than once. 10 yo kept bringing it to the table, reading out loud and discussing various points.3 yo stayed up for the seder, saw my husband put on his kittel and asked: "Why are you doing that?" "Thank you for fulfilling my obligation, So you could ask." He was not amused, but he was explained more about coming out of Egypt. And he even recited a nice part of Ma Nishtana. I know he was taught it in school, but I also have a Pesach CD that he kept asking me to put in, which contains it.
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| 10 yo showed brotherly love by putting up with 3 yo messing up his experiment (you need someone of similar height for it to work) at the science museum |
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| Kings of the rock at Noah's Ark |
Wednesday was the last day of coop classes followed by park day. I saw the boys' presentation from Lego Robotics class and missed the Bridges class one due to the littles being in toddler room. We brought out miracle bars to share. 12 walked around, advertising how good they are and sharing his insights about Pesach. I thought we will leave early enough for the babies to nap at home, but they both could not sleep. So, on the spur of the moment, I grabbed the willing kids and went to Botanical Gardens to sneak a peek at Chihuly exhibition. Our membership was running out and it did not officially open till after Pesach, but the glass was already installed. The kids loved running around finding the artwork: "There is a Chihuly!" And Thursday I went to taeknowdo with the boys followed by a cooking marathon for the last days.
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| Boys are presenting their robot |
Now Yom Tov is over, the kitchen is back to chametz, laundry is churning from mounds of dirty into mounds of clean, and we bought our chametz. I am looking forward to Pesach when the youngest is 3. In the meanwhile, I will keep on trying to do what I can, and ignore the over-optimistic accounts of how easy it is to make Pesach.
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| Chihuly in the Botanical Garden |
Monday, March 21, 2016
Baalei teshuva on Pesach
Hey, rabbis!
Yeah, the ones who do kiruv. It is nice that you teach baalei teshuva how to be frum and even spend a few months (or years) inviting us into your home, until we get the mechanics down. It is nice that you stay in touch. It is also nice that you worry about who baalei teshuva are going to marry. Overwhelmingly, baalei teshuva will marry other baalei teshuva: common backgrounds, same kiruv institutions, similar idealism. It all works out, and once the chuppa is set up, and the sheitel and black hat buying is encouraged, it's rosily into the sunset, into happy observant ever after.
Then you drop baalei teshuva like a hot potato and move onto the next "project".
But when two baalei teshuva get married, you have two sets of non-observant in-laws. If lucky, there will be kosher dishes at parents' home and modicum of trust, respect, and understanding. If not, now the young couple is on their own.
Pesach is coming, and it is painfully obvious who are baalei teshuva, and who are not. No, it has nothing to do with observance. It has to do with what the holiday will be about. All those lucky to have frum parents flock back home. There are people out there with grown children who have never made a seder, never made Pesach, They always have two sets of parents to negotiate where to go for the first days, and where to go for the last. Oh, sure, it can be tricky to satisfy all, and I do not want to take away from your conflicts. But that is when everyone forgets about baalei teshuva. They have no parental house to go to for Pesach. Rather, they have a parental house, but the struggle to convince parents to get rid of chametz, kasher everything, and then stick with the program for eight days is daunting, if not practically impossible. So they stay put and muddle through. Those kiruv rabbis conveniently get busy with their own families. But baalei teshuva are left behind.
It doesn't matter how many years one has been observant. It doesn't matter that Pesach comes every year, and, somehow, kitchens get converted, food gets made, and it all passes. Every year, there is the great divide between those who have family to flock to, and those who do not.
If your family makes Pesach, invite a a baalei teshuva family, the ones with many kids, the ones whose observance you don't doubt, the ones who do not need kiruv. Nobody else will.
Yeah, the ones who do kiruv. It is nice that you teach baalei teshuva how to be frum and even spend a few months (or years) inviting us into your home, until we get the mechanics down. It is nice that you stay in touch. It is also nice that you worry about who baalei teshuva are going to marry. Overwhelmingly, baalei teshuva will marry other baalei teshuva: common backgrounds, same kiruv institutions, similar idealism. It all works out, and once the chuppa is set up, and the sheitel and black hat buying is encouraged, it's rosily into the sunset, into happy observant ever after.
Then you drop baalei teshuva like a hot potato and move onto the next "project".
But when two baalei teshuva get married, you have two sets of non-observant in-laws. If lucky, there will be kosher dishes at parents' home and modicum of trust, respect, and understanding. If not, now the young couple is on their own.
Pesach is coming, and it is painfully obvious who are baalei teshuva, and who are not. No, it has nothing to do with observance. It has to do with what the holiday will be about. All those lucky to have frum parents flock back home. There are people out there with grown children who have never made a seder, never made Pesach, They always have two sets of parents to negotiate where to go for the first days, and where to go for the last. Oh, sure, it can be tricky to satisfy all, and I do not want to take away from your conflicts. But that is when everyone forgets about baalei teshuva. They have no parental house to go to for Pesach. Rather, they have a parental house, but the struggle to convince parents to get rid of chametz, kasher everything, and then stick with the program for eight days is daunting, if not practically impossible. So they stay put and muddle through. Those kiruv rabbis conveniently get busy with their own families. But baalei teshuva are left behind.
It doesn't matter how many years one has been observant. It doesn't matter that Pesach comes every year, and, somehow, kitchens get converted, food gets made, and it all passes. Every year, there is the great divide between those who have family to flock to, and those who do not.
If your family makes Pesach, invite a a baalei teshuva family, the ones with many kids, the ones whose observance you don't doubt, the ones who do not need kiruv. Nobody else will.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
pre-pesach jitters
Pesach is coming.
I don't want to read about fifty gazillion amazing things I can do with matzah.
I don't want to read about twenty desserts that taste like chametz.
I don't want another handy Pesach checklist.
I don't want to read about your panic over dirt in the bottom of your fridge which your OCD will not let you pass over.
I don't want to read about your emergency of a cleaning lady or a babysitter quitting. I definitely do not want to read how stressed you are over having your kids home for a whopping three days.
As we get closer, I do not want to see cute ideas for seder set-up. I don't want to see a charoset bar. Charoset was supposed to symbolize clay, the back-breaking labor of the Jews. There is a good reason why we had to leave Egypt and materialistic slavery behind. I am not planning on slaving over charoset.
I do not want to see your seder set-up unless:
1.I am invited to the said seder.
2. Your kids set the table up, with all the imperfections and cuteness, and you JUST LEFT IT as they set it.
Every year I tell myself not to stress over Pesach, and every year I find myself stressing. I have been in tears just about every night last week. Last night, to top it all off, 2 yo managed to march downstairs, into Pesach kitchen, with a cup full of chametz cereal. We do not allow food downstairs, keeping it chametz-free year-round. We usually keep the gate closed, but I guess it was left open with all the cooking and running back and forth, He used the opportunity. I lost it. I yelled at all the kids to get into the pajamas NOW, and get into bed. I did not tuck anyone in (except for putting 2 yo into his crib). Then I sat on the couch and cried.
Pesach is supposed to be about freedom, and we are supposed to free ourselves from expectations. We are supposed to let go, be ready to shift perspective. Every year I beat myself up for not reading up more about the seder, for not feeling ready to tell the story of Yetziat Mitzraim, for not engaging the kids enough, for stressing too much about food and cleaning, and not enough about what is really important.
Every year I want to make something memorable for the kids, and every year it ends up being a last minute project, not completed because I am out of time and steam. This year, I sat at the computer and typed up a bunch of questions pertaining to the seder. Most of them are open-ended, not halachic, in hope of engaging even my younger kids. I printed them, cut the out, and folded each piece of paper. I' m hoping to place them in the middle of the seder table to spark some discussion. I'm also planning on serving a lot of veggies for karpas, to keep them munching. Finally, I made candied nuts, to be given out to kids for good questions and good answers. That is straight from the Gemara. The wine was supposed to engage the adults, the treats were supposed to engage the children.
Every year I hope it will be different.
Every year I hope to get more learning done with the kids, so that they come to the seder prepared.
Every year it ends up being the same: short of my expectations, stressful, sometimes meaningless.
My boys love Pesach because of their birthdays. They love the season. They love plotting how to steal the afikoman and where to hide it. (We had a memorable hiding spot many years ago behind the garbage can in the bathroom). I doubt they love the stress that I am feeling. I don't want them to remember the stress, I want them to remember the excitement and the joy. I don't want them to remember the food. I don't want them to dread the food, either, but it should not be the focus.
I am still learning how to balance it all: be happy in cooking and cleaning, be learned enough to know what to clean, be relaxed enough so that I am available to the children, and get it all done on time.
If we all had to leave our current materialistic Egypt, would we be able to? Or would we be too attached to the way we always do things to let go?
I don't want to read about fifty gazillion amazing things I can do with matzah.
I don't want to read about twenty desserts that taste like chametz.
I don't want another handy Pesach checklist.
I don't want to read about your panic over dirt in the bottom of your fridge which your OCD will not let you pass over.
I don't want to read about your emergency of a cleaning lady or a babysitter quitting. I definitely do not want to read how stressed you are over having your kids home for a whopping three days.
As we get closer, I do not want to see cute ideas for seder set-up. I don't want to see a charoset bar. Charoset was supposed to symbolize clay, the back-breaking labor of the Jews. There is a good reason why we had to leave Egypt and materialistic slavery behind. I am not planning on slaving over charoset.
I do not want to see your seder set-up unless:
1.I am invited to the said seder.
2. Your kids set the table up, with all the imperfections and cuteness, and you JUST LEFT IT as they set it.
Every year I tell myself not to stress over Pesach, and every year I find myself stressing. I have been in tears just about every night last week. Last night, to top it all off, 2 yo managed to march downstairs, into Pesach kitchen, with a cup full of chametz cereal. We do not allow food downstairs, keeping it chametz-free year-round. We usually keep the gate closed, but I guess it was left open with all the cooking and running back and forth, He used the opportunity. I lost it. I yelled at all the kids to get into the pajamas NOW, and get into bed. I did not tuck anyone in (except for putting 2 yo into his crib). Then I sat on the couch and cried.
Pesach is supposed to be about freedom, and we are supposed to free ourselves from expectations. We are supposed to let go, be ready to shift perspective. Every year I beat myself up for not reading up more about the seder, for not feeling ready to tell the story of Yetziat Mitzraim, for not engaging the kids enough, for stressing too much about food and cleaning, and not enough about what is really important.
Every year I want to make something memorable for the kids, and every year it ends up being a last minute project, not completed because I am out of time and steam. This year, I sat at the computer and typed up a bunch of questions pertaining to the seder. Most of them are open-ended, not halachic, in hope of engaging even my younger kids. I printed them, cut the out, and folded each piece of paper. I' m hoping to place them in the middle of the seder table to spark some discussion. I'm also planning on serving a lot of veggies for karpas, to keep them munching. Finally, I made candied nuts, to be given out to kids for good questions and good answers. That is straight from the Gemara. The wine was supposed to engage the adults, the treats were supposed to engage the children.
Every year I hope it will be different.
Every year I hope to get more learning done with the kids, so that they come to the seder prepared.
Every year it ends up being the same: short of my expectations, stressful, sometimes meaningless.
My boys love Pesach because of their birthdays. They love the season. They love plotting how to steal the afikoman and where to hide it. (We had a memorable hiding spot many years ago behind the garbage can in the bathroom). I doubt they love the stress that I am feeling. I don't want them to remember the stress, I want them to remember the excitement and the joy. I don't want them to remember the food. I don't want them to dread the food, either, but it should not be the focus.
I am still learning how to balance it all: be happy in cooking and cleaning, be learned enough to know what to clean, be relaxed enough so that I am available to the children, and get it all done on time.
If we all had to leave our current materialistic Egypt, would we be able to? Or would we be too attached to the way we always do things to let go?
Sunday, April 13, 2014
running on empty
I used to be one of those people who never let the car go beyond 1/4 tank before filling up. I could not even understand why would anyone need that little light; wouldn't you know that you are almost out of gas? Why do you need that warning?But this was all a long time ago, before kids, or before so many kids, or before so many life knocks, or before I mellowed out, or before I became irresponsible...
I was driving with the boys the other day, taking them to a Shakespeare Tavern for a free homeschooling performance of Shakespearean language, when that gas light went on. Again. Since I was downtown, and we were running very close, as usual, I just assumed that the light just went on, as opposed to being on for miles and I did not notice. I calculated: I must have enough gas to get us there, and back, so I drove on.
The most crazy experience about almost running out of gas happened last year, when I was driving to the Torah Home Educators conference. I was driving with a friend and we were chatting. I was also driving my husband's car, which used to be mine before I needed a van to transport all the kids. As we are hitting downtown Washington, I casually remarked, hey, what's that orange light on the dashboard? It did not take me long to figure out that it is gas light. I panicked; we were far from northern VA where there are gas stations in the suburbs. We pulled off on the first exit, in a scary neighborhood, and I was frantically pumping gas with the car doors closed, ready to bolt at anything suspicious.
Would you believe that we ran out of gas again on the same trip? Scatterbrained, that's what I am becoming.
But this time I was thinking, this whole running on empty is the new story of my life. There are ways to plan so that you do not run out of gas, and there are strategies to implement once you are out of gas, and lights are flashing, but everyone agrees that stalling because you are totally out of gas is a really bad idea. In fact, when you stall, you need outside help, whether to call AAA or to get a canister and fill up your car, but it is impossible to do it yourself any more.
Rationally, logically I understand that I need to move back towards being aware when the tank is getting low, and when it is time to drop everything and get over to the gas station, because it will be impossible to get to that next thing without any gas in your car. Rationally, I understand that the way I am doing things is just too much, even if this "too much" is my subjective overload and "others can handle a whole lot more". But I keep finding myself running on empty.
As this Shabbos was ending, I remarked to my husband how I do not find it rejuvenating any more. I do not cook for it excessively, I do not serve in an elaborate manner, and I do not entertain on a grand scale. My husband has been kindly taking the older kids to shul on Shabbos morning while 1 yo naps, so technically I have this whole little chunk of time for myself to read, think, drink a cup of coffee in peace and quiet, daven. Yet, despite this very nice and important gesture, I do not come out of Shabbos with my tank filled up and revved for the week. In fact, I feel that the burden of what I have to do after Shabbos starts weighing on me way before Shabbos is over. I start wishing kids to bed, so I can do dishes? Start laundry? Worry whether my husband will round on some patients and I will be cleaning up on my own? One Saturday night my mother called at around 10 pm and asked whether we can get a babysitter and go out. We laughed ruefully: it is too late for us to go out, not to mention that the thought of trying to round up a hypothetical babysitter is enough to weigh down the whole proposition. Going out was the farthest thought from my mind at that time.
Every day I feel exhausted. Every day I find myself reaching for a late afternoon cup of coffee, just to get through the rest of the evening, through the drive to taekwondo and back, through dinner, through bedtime. Every day, when the kids are in bed, other obligations crowd in. Every day I look around in desperation at piles of books which are not being put away, my clothes crumpled on the dresser, winter clothes which need to be switched for summer ones, unmowed lawn, dirty floors, unprinted pictures, untouched watercolor, expired pottery certificates. I am not keeping up with the day's work, I find myself cleaning up yesterday's mess today instead of anticipating tomorrow's mess and reducing its impact.
I am looking forward to Pesach as a great reset. Both of my boys were born around Peach, a time of new beginnings. I like having Yom Tov with the ability to cook. I like that all outside obligations will have to take a backseat for over a week.
Or will they?
I have made two appointments for 8 yo to see a phychologist: one for tomorrow, erev Pesach, and one for chol hamoed, in hope that after these two, she will be able to give me some feedback on what she sees and how we should proceed. I have invited the only pesach company for Shabbos lunch and first lunch of the last days, but I need to shop and cook for those meals, probably shop on Thursday and cook on Friday. I want to take Thursday of Chol Hamoed to take kids out somewhere nice, somewhere where we have not gone in a while. I will need to decide whether not taking boys to taekwondo the whole week is a wise idea, or will 8 yo bounce off the walls without it? Oh, and I timidly wanted to schedule a massage for myself somewhere in there, as a little treat for making yom tov.
I want to enter Pesach feeling free, feeling liberated. I want to feel freedom. How much of my imprisonment is of my own doing?
There is a concept of "kotzer ruach", shortness of breath which prevented Jewish people from listening and believing Moshe. This shortness of breath was the result of hard labor. What is astonishing is that the Jews were so focused on their shortness of breath that they were unable to receive the message of liberation from the very cause of their suffering! I do not want to be stuck in my personal Egypt because I do not take a minute to breathe and to listen.
For now, I need to go back and refill my car, because the tank is still empty. What should I be putting in my tank?
Sunday, April 6, 2014
drinks
The whole year we drink mostly water, with some juice on Shabbos and an occasional can of soda that daddy brings home. Some kids drink milk in the morning, but for some reason, as we approach Pesach, in addition to "what are we going to eat?" we also have "what are we going to drink?" Those KFP Coke display beckon in every grocery store, showcasing phosphoric acid and sugar (hey, at least it is sugar and not corn syrup). One year I got a few bottles of this Coke. One of them still hung around in the summertime. When we opened it, it was completely flat and undrinkable. Lesson learned: we just do not need to spend money on these.
So, what are we going to drink?
First of all, there is water, good ole plain water. Throw a few ice cubes in it, put a dollar-store pitcher on the table, let kids go at it with permanent marker and you've got a drink. At least it is not blood.
Then, there is seltzer. Plain unflavored seltzer is kosher without needing additional Pesach supervision. Your local grocery probably has it for less that soda, and it is healthier for you.
Those two can be your base. Now you can get all fancy: float a lemon in your water. Or mint. Or cucumber, Add some frozen berries to seltzer right before serving. Make your own lemonade: squeeze some lemon juice (can be done on yom tov) or pour ReaLemon juice (also does not need special hechsher), add sugar, stir, add water, taste and adjust. Make iced tea: make two cups of strong tea, add sugar, then add water and ice to taste.
Your kids want juice? Did you know that Kirkland brand apple juice has OU-P? That makes it cheap and readily available. Tropicana also has a special Pesach run of orange juice, the containers are marked, but if you live in a jewish area, they tend to go quickly.
There are frozen juices that you reconstitute with water that are also kosher le'pesach, but I never buy them, so I cannot vouch if they are worthwhile.
Of course, you can make your own juice and drink that.
Raise your glass!
So, what are we going to drink?
First of all, there is water, good ole plain water. Throw a few ice cubes in it, put a dollar-store pitcher on the table, let kids go at it with permanent marker and you've got a drink. At least it is not blood.
Then, there is seltzer. Plain unflavored seltzer is kosher without needing additional Pesach supervision. Your local grocery probably has it for less that soda, and it is healthier for you.
Those two can be your base. Now you can get all fancy: float a lemon in your water. Or mint. Or cucumber, Add some frozen berries to seltzer right before serving. Make your own lemonade: squeeze some lemon juice (can be done on yom tov) or pour ReaLemon juice (also does not need special hechsher), add sugar, stir, add water, taste and adjust. Make iced tea: make two cups of strong tea, add sugar, then add water and ice to taste.
Your kids want juice? Did you know that Kirkland brand apple juice has OU-P? That makes it cheap and readily available. Tropicana also has a special Pesach run of orange juice, the containers are marked, but if you live in a jewish area, they tend to go quickly.
There are frozen juices that you reconstitute with water that are also kosher le'pesach, but I never buy them, so I cannot vouch if they are worthwhile.
Of course, you can make your own juice and drink that.
Raise your glass!
Saturday, April 5, 2014
unusual veggies
Pesach, and the vegetable everyone thinks about (and rolls their eyes): potatoes. Well, it does not have to be this way.
Today we tasted daikon at a friend's house. She just had it sliced on a platter, laid out with min-peppers. Even my picky husband liked it. Voila, it is making it on my menu. It is a type of radish, but the taste is mild and watery, more like asian pear.
Another veggie which can also be eaten raw is jicama. I saw a fellow teacher eating it for lunch back in Houston and I tried it and liked it. There are recipes for jicama salads and slaw, but it can be eaten just as is, peeled and sliced.
Next two veggies are not so far out there, but they have a reputation of being too funky. I am talking about beets and kale. Both require a bit more prep, but both are worth it, just for contrast of color and nutritional punch compared to potatoes.
Beets
Scrub them well, them put them in a pan covered with foil. Drizzle a bit of olive oil on top and wrap them tightly in foil. Roast at 400 for an hour, longer if the beets look large. Let them cool for an hour still wrapped up, then unwrap and the skins will slip right off. You can slice them or dice them and eat them as they are, or toss them with salt, pepper, olive oil, a drizzle of wine vinegar, and some herbs. Some scallions go well with them too. Also a bit of sweetness from honey or a spoonful of sugar adds a nice touch. Don't stop at red beets, they also come in golden color and make for an attractive mix.
Kale
It could be a bit intimidating, but I tasted a great kale salad at the same friend's house who served daikon today and I was hooked ever since. The trick is to wash it well and rinse a bunch of times, and to remove the tough stems. My kids like kale chips: preheat oven to 275, spread kale in a single layer on a baking sheet, spray lightly with cooking spray (or toss with oil), then sprinkle with salt, pepper and garlic powder. Bake for 15-20 minutes until the leaves are crisp. These chips are seriously addictive, especially straight out of the oven, when they are the crispest.
There is also massaged kale salad. I originally got the recipe from allrecipes.com, but I do not see it there any more. It is really yummy, and I got special requests for this one ( unfortunately, not from my family, they just want kale chips).
Happy exploration in the veggie aisle! What's your favorite unusual vegetable?
 |
| Daikon |
 |
| Jicama |
Next two veggies are not so far out there, but they have a reputation of being too funky. I am talking about beets and kale. Both require a bit more prep, but both are worth it, just for contrast of color and nutritional punch compared to potatoes.
Beets
 |
| Golden beets |
Kale
 |
| Kale |
There is also massaged kale salad. I originally got the recipe from allrecipes.com, but I do not see it there any more. It is really yummy, and I got special requests for this one ( unfortunately, not from my family, they just want kale chips).
Happy exploration in the veggie aisle! What's your favorite unusual vegetable?
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
why I haven't called
Dear mom,
You have been upset with me lately for not calling when I have time. So I would like to share my day with you, perhaps, in an effort to better understand each other.
It started at 6:30, with the baby waking up. Truthfully, it started at 3 am when the baby woke up to nurse, but we'll attribute that little lapse to nighttime and start in the morning. The older kids went with my husband to shul, and I got myself and the baby dressed and fed by 8 am, so we could drive over to Office Depot and make photocopies for Battles and Weapons class that I am teaching in the coop. When I got there, their system was under maintenance, but, luckily, I was still able to xerox what I needed. I am sure that I should have planned this better, but yesterday my computer shut down and I could not even access the file. At least it resurrected itself last night at 11, so I was able to get the file onto flash drive before it would not wake up again.
By the time I came home, it was close to 9. My husband went to work and I sat down to do chumash with 7 yo. He read two new pesukim, asked me why is Hashem talking to himself ("Should I hide from Avraham what I am about to do?"), and then asked me how did Moshe know to write this down if it happened before he was born. I thought these were terrific questions, showing true engagement with the text. Then I packed up the diaper bag and the bag of materials for the Battles and Weapons class. I spent some time researching a new trampoline net, as the kids tore the one that we had apart and it is not safe any more. Soon, it was almost 10, the baby woke up, and we had to leave for the coop.
We got there a whole five minutes early, which means that I even got a chance to get onto the playground and exchange a few pleasantries with other moms. Then it was time for the kids to go to their classes and for me to go to toddler room. The baby was fine in there, but something bugged 4 yo, as she left her class twice and came to me. I worked it out with her and led her back.
During the short recess, I strapped the baby to the stroller and finally got to use the bathroom. It is funny how those things are so hard to accomplish all of a sudden.
Then it was time to teach my Battles class about Zulus. Even though I prepared, and I found the subject matter fascinating, I do not think that I communicated enough of that to my students. Some of them were even bored. Some of them (my 9 yo) already read all my source material and could not keep their mouth shut long enough for me to steer the discussion in order to engage other kids. 7 yo predictably threw a fit about having to label Zulu spear. It is called iklwa, after the sucking sound that it made as it was removed from a lifeless enemy corpse.
Then I gathered the class materials, gathered the kids, gathered the baby, gathered the diaper bag and headed out to the park. Normally we do not stay for park day, but today I wanted to take advantage of the nice warm weather. I also needed to kill about twenty minutes of time before I had to head back. So when the time was up, I gathered the kids one more time, and then I remembered about the box of granola bars left in the car. Pesach is coming, these bars are chametz, and another homeschool parent was collecting non-perishable snacks to take to the men in the immigration detention center. They need to eat as they get deported. So I dropped off the bars and we went in the direction of home. Really tired baby fell asleep. But we did not go home, we went to a local deli to pick up a platter for a house of mourning. I knew that I could not go in and help cover the mirrors this time, but I knew that we could deliver some food. So I divided it up among the kids: you carry a bag of bagels, you carry cream cheese, and you hold the door for me as I maneuver with the platter.
Then we finally got home. The baby woke up from his too-short nap. I fed them lunch. I tried getting the baby back to sleep, but it did not work. So we went to pick up more Pesach supplies. First we stopped off in the local grocery for foil pans. They had a terrific deal on string cheese, so I got a pack of that. Then we headed over to Costco. There was a lot of traffic and some construction, so it took us much longer to get there. As we were driving, I got messages about kosher food coop delivery: it is on time, between 5 and 6 pm; no, it is delayed, now it is between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. And I got a call from my mother-in-law; I asked her to come in and watch the kids while I will be picking up my order. She was at my house, but we were on the way to Costco. I asked her to stick chicken in the oven, so now we would have dinner when we would be done. The baby fell asleep again, and so did 4 yo. I had to wake them both when we got to Costco. We did it pretty quickly, as the list was not so long. 9 yo started sulking; I talked him into this afternoon by promising as much DS till 5 pm as he wanted, so the faster we moved, the more DS time he was supposed to get. Now it was past 4. I told him that I will extend his DS time.
When we finally got home, the kids helped me unload the car and I got a message from the coop that the delivery is back to regular time, which means that I jump the car and go to pick up my and my friend's order. The coop was supposed to deliver yesterday, but she does not live locally, so she could not get over here on time. Over there, I go back and forth over the missing meat for my friend, but, finally, it is not there. I have a car full of Pesach food, back seats folded down. I have close to 50 pounds of brisket, which I proceed to weigh out on my front lawn using a bathroom scale. It is frozen in plastic bags. It is literally a side of a cow. There were supposed to be 6 bags, but instead we got four. My kids still have not had dinner, despite my numerous requests to just sit down and eat. As I finally sit them down, people are coming to pick up their orders, and pleasantries are exchanged again. Everyone rolls their eyes as we distribute the meat, and everyone is understanding how it should have been 6 bags, but now it is four. I have food from Costco, food from dinner, food for Pesach, chicken that I planning to make for Shabbos and it is all on my head, now. Oh, and I have my Pesach food to pick up from others.
I ask kids to get pajamas on, buy they do not listen. I lose it when 7 yo bounces a big exercise ball that I inflated in vain hope of getting baby to walk onto a dining room table, spilling a large cup of my father-in-law's tea. There is a puddle, spreading onto 9 yo math that he never cleaned up from the morning. The tea leaves are on the table and on the floor, and I am sopping up the mess with the towel, holding the baby with another hand and yelling like a maniac for kids to GET INTO BED NOW! I also take away DSs for good.
Oh, and 9 yo confesses that part of the reason he has been spacey today was because he was awake from 1 am to 3 am. I wonder if that explains his clothes all over the floor, or the weapons book he left in the bathtub because he was reading in there.
Finally, my friend pulls up, her kids also tired, also screaming, and we load up her order. I pick up some of the mess in the living room, just enough to walk.
My friend calls, the one that I would love to talk to, but we only have 15 minutes, because we are both on the committee meeting for our high school which is about to start. Then I don my alumnus hat and go into phone meeting where I am being told that my committee has to meet again before Pesach and make some headway.
My sink is full of dishes. My husband is on call. Tomorrow I am setting up another shiva house with the kids, because people tend to die when they die, and not when it is convenient. The laundry is somewhere in the process of being washed, not because I want to, but because I ran out of bibs. I am also suspicious that I am washing a load that I already washed, only it did not get put away...
I have been busy, dear mother.
Talk to you later.
You have been upset with me lately for not calling when I have time. So I would like to share my day with you, perhaps, in an effort to better understand each other.
It started at 6:30, with the baby waking up. Truthfully, it started at 3 am when the baby woke up to nurse, but we'll attribute that little lapse to nighttime and start in the morning. The older kids went with my husband to shul, and I got myself and the baby dressed and fed by 8 am, so we could drive over to Office Depot and make photocopies for Battles and Weapons class that I am teaching in the coop. When I got there, their system was under maintenance, but, luckily, I was still able to xerox what I needed. I am sure that I should have planned this better, but yesterday my computer shut down and I could not even access the file. At least it resurrected itself last night at 11, so I was able to get the file onto flash drive before it would not wake up again.
By the time I came home, it was close to 9. My husband went to work and I sat down to do chumash with 7 yo. He read two new pesukim, asked me why is Hashem talking to himself ("Should I hide from Avraham what I am about to do?"), and then asked me how did Moshe know to write this down if it happened before he was born. I thought these were terrific questions, showing true engagement with the text. Then I packed up the diaper bag and the bag of materials for the Battles and Weapons class. I spent some time researching a new trampoline net, as the kids tore the one that we had apart and it is not safe any more. Soon, it was almost 10, the baby woke up, and we had to leave for the coop.
We got there a whole five minutes early, which means that I even got a chance to get onto the playground and exchange a few pleasantries with other moms. Then it was time for the kids to go to their classes and for me to go to toddler room. The baby was fine in there, but something bugged 4 yo, as she left her class twice and came to me. I worked it out with her and led her back.
During the short recess, I strapped the baby to the stroller and finally got to use the bathroom. It is funny how those things are so hard to accomplish all of a sudden.
Then it was time to teach my Battles class about Zulus. Even though I prepared, and I found the subject matter fascinating, I do not think that I communicated enough of that to my students. Some of them were even bored. Some of them (my 9 yo) already read all my source material and could not keep their mouth shut long enough for me to steer the discussion in order to engage other kids. 7 yo predictably threw a fit about having to label Zulu spear. It is called iklwa, after the sucking sound that it made as it was removed from a lifeless enemy corpse.
Then I gathered the class materials, gathered the kids, gathered the baby, gathered the diaper bag and headed out to the park. Normally we do not stay for park day, but today I wanted to take advantage of the nice warm weather. I also needed to kill about twenty minutes of time before I had to head back. So when the time was up, I gathered the kids one more time, and then I remembered about the box of granola bars left in the car. Pesach is coming, these bars are chametz, and another homeschool parent was collecting non-perishable snacks to take to the men in the immigration detention center. They need to eat as they get deported. So I dropped off the bars and we went in the direction of home. Really tired baby fell asleep. But we did not go home, we went to a local deli to pick up a platter for a house of mourning. I knew that I could not go in and help cover the mirrors this time, but I knew that we could deliver some food. So I divided it up among the kids: you carry a bag of bagels, you carry cream cheese, and you hold the door for me as I maneuver with the platter.
Then we finally got home. The baby woke up from his too-short nap. I fed them lunch. I tried getting the baby back to sleep, but it did not work. So we went to pick up more Pesach supplies. First we stopped off in the local grocery for foil pans. They had a terrific deal on string cheese, so I got a pack of that. Then we headed over to Costco. There was a lot of traffic and some construction, so it took us much longer to get there. As we were driving, I got messages about kosher food coop delivery: it is on time, between 5 and 6 pm; no, it is delayed, now it is between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. And I got a call from my mother-in-law; I asked her to come in and watch the kids while I will be picking up my order. She was at my house, but we were on the way to Costco. I asked her to stick chicken in the oven, so now we would have dinner when we would be done. The baby fell asleep again, and so did 4 yo. I had to wake them both when we got to Costco. We did it pretty quickly, as the list was not so long. 9 yo started sulking; I talked him into this afternoon by promising as much DS till 5 pm as he wanted, so the faster we moved, the more DS time he was supposed to get. Now it was past 4. I told him that I will extend his DS time.
When we finally got home, the kids helped me unload the car and I got a message from the coop that the delivery is back to regular time, which means that I jump the car and go to pick up my and my friend's order. The coop was supposed to deliver yesterday, but she does not live locally, so she could not get over here on time. Over there, I go back and forth over the missing meat for my friend, but, finally, it is not there. I have a car full of Pesach food, back seats folded down. I have close to 50 pounds of brisket, which I proceed to weigh out on my front lawn using a bathroom scale. It is frozen in plastic bags. It is literally a side of a cow. There were supposed to be 6 bags, but instead we got four. My kids still have not had dinner, despite my numerous requests to just sit down and eat. As I finally sit them down, people are coming to pick up their orders, and pleasantries are exchanged again. Everyone rolls their eyes as we distribute the meat, and everyone is understanding how it should have been 6 bags, but now it is four. I have food from Costco, food from dinner, food for Pesach, chicken that I planning to make for Shabbos and it is all on my head, now. Oh, and I have my Pesach food to pick up from others.
I ask kids to get pajamas on, buy they do not listen. I lose it when 7 yo bounces a big exercise ball that I inflated in vain hope of getting baby to walk onto a dining room table, spilling a large cup of my father-in-law's tea. There is a puddle, spreading onto 9 yo math that he never cleaned up from the morning. The tea leaves are on the table and on the floor, and I am sopping up the mess with the towel, holding the baby with another hand and yelling like a maniac for kids to GET INTO BED NOW! I also take away DSs for good.
Oh, and 9 yo confesses that part of the reason he has been spacey today was because he was awake from 1 am to 3 am. I wonder if that explains his clothes all over the floor, or the weapons book he left in the bathtub because he was reading in there.
Finally, my friend pulls up, her kids also tired, also screaming, and we load up her order. I pick up some of the mess in the living room, just enough to walk.
My friend calls, the one that I would love to talk to, but we only have 15 minutes, because we are both on the committee meeting for our high school which is about to start. Then I don my alumnus hat and go into phone meeting where I am being told that my committee has to meet again before Pesach and make some headway.
My sink is full of dishes. My husband is on call. Tomorrow I am setting up another shiva house with the kids, because people tend to die when they die, and not when it is convenient. The laundry is somewhere in the process of being washed, not because I want to, but because I ran out of bibs. I am also suspicious that I am washing a load that I already washed, only it did not get put away...
I have been busy, dear mother.
Talk to you later.
Monday, March 31, 2014
super-easy chocolate chip bars and brownies
Here are two really easy desserts, no mixer required. I have made brownies on Yom tov before and you could hypothetically do the same with the bars. Both are non-gebrochts, for those who care.
"Miracle" Chocolate Chips bars
Preheat oven to 375
2 cups ground almonds or walnuts (get raw and grind in food processor
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup chocolate chips
Mix all the ingredients, do not add water or oil, just keep on mixing. Bake as bars for 23 minutes or cookies for 12-15 minutes.
I got this recipe from pre-Pesach bazaar in shul one year, so the credit goes to the woman who gave out the sheets with it. If you know whom I'm talking about, please let me know. And these bars are amazing!
Super Pesach Chocolate Cake
Preheat oven to 350
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 c oil
1/2 cup cocoa
1/2 cups nuts, chopped
3/4 cup potato starch
Mix all till smooth, like brownies, pour into 9 X 13 pan, bake for 45 minutes.
This recipe I got from Mrs. Katz in Brooklyn, a Chassidishe lady. My husband ate quite a few of his single Shabbos meals at their place, so the first year we got married, we visited them on Chol HaMoed. She asked me about Pesach and I, a new bride, told her how I do not have any good recipes. She pulled out a cookbook and gave me this recipe. Now I make it every Pesach, since it is as easy as it gets, and I can pop it in the oven in the beginning of a meal and have it ready for dessert.
"Miracle" Chocolate Chips bars
Preheat oven to 375
2 cups ground almonds or walnuts (get raw and grind in food processor
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup chocolate chips
Mix all the ingredients, do not add water or oil, just keep on mixing. Bake as bars for 23 minutes or cookies for 12-15 minutes.
I got this recipe from pre-Pesach bazaar in shul one year, so the credit goes to the woman who gave out the sheets with it. If you know whom I'm talking about, please let me know. And these bars are amazing!
Super Pesach Chocolate Cake
Preheat oven to 350
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 c oil
1/2 cup cocoa
1/2 cups nuts, chopped
3/4 cup potato starch
Mix all till smooth, like brownies, pour into 9 X 13 pan, bake for 45 minutes.
This recipe I got from Mrs. Katz in Brooklyn, a Chassidishe lady. My husband ate quite a few of his single Shabbos meals at their place, so the first year we got married, we visited them on Chol HaMoed. She asked me about Pesach and I, a new bride, told her how I do not have any good recipes. She pulled out a cookbook and gave me this recipe. Now I make it every Pesach, since it is as easy as it gets, and I can pop it in the oven in the beginning of a meal and have it ready for dessert.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
meringues
Yes, before you decide that I am crazy, and that this is too hard, I do make meringues every Pesach. They are not that hard, but they do require some time. Best part about them: only two ingredients, gluten-free, dairy-free, fat-free... and you will not have to guess whether they will be eaten.
So here it goes.
Meringues
First of all, make sure that your mixing bowl and the beaters are perfectly clean. If there is any oil, dirt or residue the meringues will not rise. I made them in metal bowl and in plastic bowl and that does not make any difference as long as everything is clean.
Preheat the oven to 250F (yes, 250, not 350). Line two cookie sheets with foil or parchment paper. Alternatively, you can double-up heavy-duty aluminum foil and use that as a cookie sheet.
You will need 4 egg whites, separated from the yolks. Be very careful not to get yolk into the the whites, or the meringues will not rise. You can use eggshells to separate the eggs, or a nifty egg separator, or crack the egg into the cupped hand and let the egg white run down as the yolk stays. Personally, I hate separating eggs, but I will do it for meringues and for chiffon cake for my husband, another Pesach-only dessert.
Once you got your egg whites in the mixing bowl, add a pinch of salt and beat them on low speed until they get frothy, about 3 minutes. Increase the speed to medium. Then measure out 1 cup of granulated sugar and start adding one spoonful at a time, beating the whole time. The whole process could take ten minutes. The meringue is ready when it is glossy, holds peaks, and sticks to the sides of the bowl. Now take two spoons and place individual meringue cookies onto the baking sheets. They do not rise, so you do not need to leave a lot of space between them. If you want to be fancy, many grocery stores will carry a pastry bag. Or you can snip a corner of a ziploc bag and load it up. I am usually too tired to play around like that, so I stick to two spoons and free-form meringues.
Place the baking sheets in the oven and leave them for at least two hours. Then turn the oven off and them them sit inside overnight. You are really drying off the meringues, not baking them. Also, this way once the meringues are in the oven, you are done cooking for the day.
If you are in a hurry, you could raise the temperature and bake them for a shorter time. Then you have to watch the meringues to avoid burning them. Also, they will remain soft and chewy on the inside, with a thin brittle shell. The slowly-dried meringue is hard all the way throughout.
Yes, I have messed up meringues. But I still make them every year, and I enjoy their simplicity.
----
The ratio is one egg white to 1/4 cup of sugar, if you need to scale the recipe.
So here it goes.
Meringues
First of all, make sure that your mixing bowl and the beaters are perfectly clean. If there is any oil, dirt or residue the meringues will not rise. I made them in metal bowl and in plastic bowl and that does not make any difference as long as everything is clean.
Preheat the oven to 250F (yes, 250, not 350). Line two cookie sheets with foil or parchment paper. Alternatively, you can double-up heavy-duty aluminum foil and use that as a cookie sheet.
You will need 4 egg whites, separated from the yolks. Be very careful not to get yolk into the the whites, or the meringues will not rise. You can use eggshells to separate the eggs, or a nifty egg separator, or crack the egg into the cupped hand and let the egg white run down as the yolk stays. Personally, I hate separating eggs, but I will do it for meringues and for chiffon cake for my husband, another Pesach-only dessert.Once you got your egg whites in the mixing bowl, add a pinch of salt and beat them on low speed until they get frothy, about 3 minutes. Increase the speed to medium. Then measure out 1 cup of granulated sugar and start adding one spoonful at a time, beating the whole time. The whole process could take ten minutes. The meringue is ready when it is glossy, holds peaks, and sticks to the sides of the bowl. Now take two spoons and place individual meringue cookies onto the baking sheets. They do not rise, so you do not need to leave a lot of space between them. If you want to be fancy, many grocery stores will carry a pastry bag. Or you can snip a corner of a ziploc bag and load it up. I am usually too tired to play around like that, so I stick to two spoons and free-form meringues.Place the baking sheets in the oven and leave them for at least two hours. Then turn the oven off and them them sit inside overnight. You are really drying off the meringues, not baking them. Also, this way once the meringues are in the oven, you are done cooking for the day.
If you are in a hurry, you could raise the temperature and bake them for a shorter time. Then you have to watch the meringues to avoid burning them. Also, they will remain soft and chewy on the inside, with a thin brittle shell. The slowly-dried meringue is hard all the way throughout.
Yes, I have messed up meringues. But I still make them every year, and I enjoy their simplicity.
----
The ratio is one egg white to 1/4 cup of sugar, if you need to scale the recipe.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
coffee
Pesach is coming and you have a Starbucks habit. Before you spend your money on a coffee maker that you can only use three days a year, before you resign yourself to instant muck, there is another choice.
A pour-over.
You can find it in your local grocery, or in Walmart. You can order it on Amazon. It is a little plastic piece that rests over a mug. You place a paper filter inside, add ground coffee and pour hot water over the grounds. Voila! A nice cup o' joe. It is very easy to use and to clean, and it is way cheaper.
The best part is that you can use it to make coffee on Yom Tov, something that an electric coffee maker will not be able to help you out with.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
tomatoes
I will start with tomatoes. Two options come to mind: tomato dip and tomato salad.
Tomato dip
3-4 ripe tomatoes ( preferably on the vine kind, if not ripe, do not refrigerate, leave them on a counter for a few days)
1-2 cloves garlic
salt
olive oil
Cut tomatoes into chunks, and place into food processor with peeled garlic cloves. Puree, and then slowly add olive oil and salt. If you add too little olive oil, the dip will be thicker, but less flavorful. You can play around with adding dill, basil, parsley, either fresh or dried. It is usually good with matzah rolls, or as a simple condiment. It keeps well in the fridge.
Tomato salad
4 ripe tomatoes, cut in wedges or chunks
1/2 red onion, sliced into rings
basil
salt
pepper
lemon juice
olive oil
Toss tomatoes with onions and spices, drizzle with lemon juice and oil. This tastes better when it is prepared right before serving.
These are not too hard. I bet you do not even need to write them down.
Tomato dip
3-4 ripe tomatoes ( preferably on the vine kind, if not ripe, do not refrigerate, leave them on a counter for a few days)
1-2 cloves garlic
salt
olive oil
Cut tomatoes into chunks, and place into food processor with peeled garlic cloves. Puree, and then slowly add olive oil and salt. If you add too little olive oil, the dip will be thicker, but less flavorful. You can play around with adding dill, basil, parsley, either fresh or dried. It is usually good with matzah rolls, or as a simple condiment. It keeps well in the fridge.
Tomato salad
4 ripe tomatoes, cut in wedges or chunks
1/2 red onion, sliced into rings
basil
salt
pepper
lemon juice
olive oil
Toss tomatoes with onions and spices, drizzle with lemon juice and oil. This tastes better when it is prepared right before serving.
These are not too hard. I bet you do not even need to write them down.
yucca
Yucca is also known as cassava, and manioc. It is the source of tapioca. It is a South American root vegetable. I find it in the local farmer's market, but lots of supermarkets carry it. It stars on Pesach as a good substitute to potatoes.
In a nutshell, you can replace some (or all) of the potatoes with yucca. Since it is large, I substitute one yucca root for 3-4 potatoes in the recipes. I tried it in potato kugel and in latkes, which are a perfect erev Pesach food, in that twilight zone between no chametz and no matzah. Yucca makes things crispier, in other words, more likely to be eaten by kids.
Here are the recipes that I use, but any old latke or potato kugel recipe will work.
Potato kugel (adapted from Kosher by Design)
1 yucca, peeled and chunked
4 potatoes, peeled and chunked
1-2 onions, peeled and chunked
5 eggs
2 T potato starch
1 T salt
1 t pepper
2 T sugar
1/2 cup oil
Preheat oven to 375, pour oil into baking pan and preheat. Watch it so it does not sizzle.
In a food processor, puree yucca, potatoes and onions until almost smooth. Pour into a mixing bowl, add eggs (I know they suggest beating them beforehand, but you do not have to, just mix them in well). Then add potato starch, salt, pepper and sugar, mix. Take the pan with oil out of the oven, stir in some of the oil into the patter and pour it all back into the pan. Bake for an hour. Time may vary depending on how thick your kugel is. It will brown on top when ready.
Latkes
1 yucca, peeled and chunked
1 potato
1 onion
3 eggs
salt and pepper
2 T potato starch or matzo meal
Grate yucca and potato on a fine grater, or puree in food processor. Then grate in an onion. Take a few paper towels and wrap around the grated mass, to get as much liquid out as possible. Then add eggs (again, no need to beat beforehand, just mix them well), salt, pepper, and starch. Mix the whole batter. Take a few paper towels, fold them, and stick them on the side of the mixing bowl; they will wick up extra liquid which is invariably there.
Heat a frying pan, add oil (I like olive oil), add by heaping spoonfuls, fry for a couple minutes per side. Don't be stingy with oil, and use medium heat. When done, flip latkes on a paper towel-lined plate.
Yum! Now I wish I had some yucca...
Oh, and you can sub it instead of potatoes in your cholent ( Pesach or year-round), nobody will know.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
pesach
Since we got married, I made Pesach every year. Two of my boys were born around Pesach: one on the last day and one two days before. My baby was born three weeks before Pesach. Every year I have a bit of a freak-out, but every year it somehow comes together.
And every year I hear about the general dread that Pesach instills in women. The cleaning! The shopping! The cooking! The sedarim! Some of these are self-imposed, and since I am not a halachik authority, I cannot tell to simplify. Hopefully, your rav will tell you when you are doing too much and worrying too much. Ask, and you might find out that you can do less. What I can tell is that Pesach is not equivalent to spring cleaning. And when you are halachically preparing for Pesach, do not turn it into spring cleaning (unless you have nothing else to do, but then don't freak out about how complex it gets).
What I can tell you about are a few things which work and will simplify life. And I hope to post one Pesach recipe a day, in hopes of avoiding "there is nothing to eat" syndrome. Just click on the tag "pesach" on the right and they will come up.
And every year I hear about the general dread that Pesach instills in women. The cleaning! The shopping! The cooking! The sedarim! Some of these are self-imposed, and since I am not a halachik authority, I cannot tell to simplify. Hopefully, your rav will tell you when you are doing too much and worrying too much. Ask, and you might find out that you can do less. What I can tell is that Pesach is not equivalent to spring cleaning. And when you are halachically preparing for Pesach, do not turn it into spring cleaning (unless you have nothing else to do, but then don't freak out about how complex it gets).
What I can tell you about are a few things which work and will simplify life. And I hope to post one Pesach recipe a day, in hopes of avoiding "there is nothing to eat" syndrome. Just click on the tag "pesach" on the right and they will come up.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
on Purim, leaning back and control
Today is Purim. Happy Purim,y'all!
Time to be happy, time to let go, time to realize who is in charge.
I have been tightening and tightening my homeschooling belt, and things were feeling worse and worse. We were dissolving into more fights, more arguments, more mental reasons for sending them all to school. It did not help that external factors were not aligning, and there was a lot of external pressure to get this or that done.
In the middle of all this, a few things happened. Both local Kroger and Publix pulled out their Pesach displays, with shocking prices. The Pesach order for kosher coop went out a few weeks ago. Do you know how many people you will be having over Pesach eight weeks in advance? I don't, but I have to guess what I'll be making and in which quantities. Throw this on top of that my usual shmura controversy...
I did not grow up with Pesach. Neither did my husband. He got a minchag (a custom) from his rav to eat shmura on Pesach. When we got married, and were living in New York, we did shmura. The expense was driving me nuts, and knowing that this is a chumra (a stringency) and not halacha, added to the stress. Then we moved to Houston, and I had to place my matzah order weeks in advance. I normally like to plan, but this additional step of planning Pesach before Purim was nuts. Then we moved again. Now I had to place hand shmura order in one place and machine in another, with different deadlines and pick-up times, and both orders had to be placed well in advance. I was crumbling. First two years, I had friends get married in NY two weeks before Pesach, so I drove up, stayed an extra day to go to Brach's and bought my shmura there. Last year I had a baby, but my husband took care of the ordering. Machine shmura was supposed to come through coop, but it didn't. Before I had time to stress, I found some in Publix, innocently sitting on a shelf.
This year, I was too overwhelmed to keep track of when and where shmura was supposed to be ordered. I spoke to my Chabad friend about how I do not feel that I am exactly on a spiritual level which would warrant eating shmura, and she said: "Fake it till you make it." Well, this year I did not feel like faking it. And I do not believe that outward religiosity should come before inner spirituality. So when the deadlines passed and my husband did not order shmura, I said that we are not doing it this year. Publix did not have any and was not planning on bringing it in.
Lo and behold, Costco brought in some hand shmura. My husband got a few boxes, and I decided that all machine matza will be regular this year. I just stopped stressing about it.
At about the same time, this tragedy struck. A young mother passed away, and the internal tumult intensified. I did not know her personally, but this was such a close and horrific call, that I kept on thinking and thinking about it. And at the same time I came across this article. When I read it, I wanted to stand up and pump my fist: preach it, sister! I am so ready to lean back, and so are my friends. Why are we hosting people for sedarim when we need quiet? Why are we stressing about not creative enough costumes? Why are we berating ourselves for not feeding our kids organic when my conventional sweet potato is growing TEN TIMES BETTER than organic one? (I will post pictures one day, I promise!)
Meanwhile, things at my home front kept on deteriorating. I had a full meltdown on Friday night, right in front of my kids. I had a talk with my husband: please, we have to do something, send them to school, find a program, get cleaning help (we have been cleaning the house ourselves and it has been too much). He listened and said: why don't you just go on vacation? Call the school year over, only do things with kids that they want to do, let it all be, and you can always pick up in a week or month or next year. Basically, he suggested going back to unschooling. What's funny is that 7 yo has been asking me to unschool him lately, despite smoothly finishing Lech Lecha, despite starting on Vayeira in regular chumash, and despite his desire to do two pesukim a day...
Additionally, the Rabbi in shul gave a pre-Purim speech which touched on how many things happen, and they are horrible things (meaning the communal tragedy of loss) and we cry at the time, but these tears are there for a reason and we might not know what is the reason till much later on. Oh, and he also mentioned how on Purim it would be appropriate to ask of Hashem with abandon, since we give out tzedakah without investigating, so Hashem gives out our requests. I filed this away, thinking primarily about my tears in my current sorry state of being overwhelmed.
This morning I got to shul for megilah reading a bit early, and I had a unique opportunity say Shemone Esre without distractions. I prayed and asked and requested calmness and best decisions for all current situations.
Afterwards, when I got home and started getting ready for the seudah, I realized that I never got balsamic vinegar for marinated mushrooms. I looked earlier in the week in Publix and at the local farmer's market, but neither one had it. I decided to try Kroger, maybe they have it in their large Pesach section. When I got to the store, I saw that they expanded their Pesach display, so I went looking through it. I found my balsamic vinegar, but I also found... drum roll... machine shmura matzah!
I just started laughing. Just at the time when I gave up on hunting down matzah and on being stressed about matzah and on feeling not quite right in my observance, Hashem sent me a little reminder of who's in control here. As I stocked up, I realized that what I minded about keeping shmura was not the expense, or the level of observance. What I minded the most was worrying about Pesach before Purim and scheming and planning and bending over backwards to get this matzah. When it was right there, just sitting on a store shelf, and Purim planning had passed, I did not mind buying it at all.
There we have it: if we just let go and let Hashem be in charge, he will help us connect the dots, everything will fall in its place. We just need to lean back, release the reigns. I am planning on going back to unschooling, because my sanity comes before outward appearance of busyness.
One final detail: when my husband was putting away shmura boxes, he came and told me: "You know, there is a bottle of balsamic vinegar sitting down there with the pesach food."
Monday, March 18, 2013
a quick grocery trip
I went to the store with all four kids for the first time. I had four things on my shopping list: milk, cottage cheese, orange juice and tilapia. Since Publix does not sell prepackaged ( read: cheap) tilapia, we went to Kroger.
Problem #1: the shopping carts now have a little plastic piece on the top part which does not allow one to hook the car seat. Now I had to put the car seat into the main basket and there was no place for food.
Problem #2: as soon as I did that, 3 yo threw a fit that she wanted to sit there too. I offered to put her in the top part, but she would have none of that. She was screaming, grabbing onto the wheel of the cart and hugging it, not allowing me to move.
Problem #3: now I was walking through the store with a screaming child attached to the cart and an extremely embarrassed 8 yo. I do not know if anyone was watching us, I tend to be oblivious/ignore those stares, but he must have been sensitive to the scene we were making.
Problem #4: there was no tilapia. At least I got perch and pollock. Maybe the kids will not notice.
Then we walked to the dairy case where I had to decide on whether to buy kosher for Pesach milk a week in advance and freeze it, or to wait till the end of the week and hope it will still be there. The orange juice was on sale, so I stocked up. As I was doing this, 3 yo settled in at the bottom of the cart. Then I turned around and saw that 6 yo was missing.
Problem #5: we were walking up and down the aisles, looking for 6 yo. First I assumed that he was just around the corner, but then he wasn't. Then I thought he might have gone to the restroom. Then we just paced the store. Just before showing up to the manager to page for him, I decided to check the book rack. There he was, sitting on the floor, reading "Is Camel a Mammal?" Heart attack averted.
Problem #6: self-checkout. For some reason, every item we scanned required an attendant. I was worried about losing yet another one of the kids, especially since 3 yo climbed out to help.
Bottom line: was this trip a disaster?
No, it was a learning experience. We had a groove for going to the store with just three, and now we need to find a neew groove for shopping with four. I need to work out car seat issue. Maybe I need to bring a baby wrap. Maybe I need two carts: one for the groceries and one for the kids. Maybe I need to put the carseat into snap-n-go and leave 8 yo in charge of the baby while pushing the grocery cart. Maybe I need an occupation for 3 yo which will make her feel important.
I am glad that we tried this out with a small list, this way there was less to lose. Te funny thing is, my husband said that he could get those groceries later, or my mother-in-law, but I thought that we all need to see what the shopping will be like in our neew configuration.
No, the trip was not a disaster, just a learning experience.
Problem #1: the shopping carts now have a little plastic piece on the top part which does not allow one to hook the car seat. Now I had to put the car seat into the main basket and there was no place for food.
Problem #2: as soon as I did that, 3 yo threw a fit that she wanted to sit there too. I offered to put her in the top part, but she would have none of that. She was screaming, grabbing onto the wheel of the cart and hugging it, not allowing me to move.
Problem #3: now I was walking through the store with a screaming child attached to the cart and an extremely embarrassed 8 yo. I do not know if anyone was watching us, I tend to be oblivious/ignore those stares, but he must have been sensitive to the scene we were making.Problem #4: there was no tilapia. At least I got perch and pollock. Maybe the kids will not notice.
Then we walked to the dairy case where I had to decide on whether to buy kosher for Pesach milk a week in advance and freeze it, or to wait till the end of the week and hope it will still be there. The orange juice was on sale, so I stocked up. As I was doing this, 3 yo settled in at the bottom of the cart. Then I turned around and saw that 6 yo was missing.
Problem #5: we were walking up and down the aisles, looking for 6 yo. First I assumed that he was just around the corner, but then he wasn't. Then I thought he might have gone to the restroom. Then we just paced the store. Just before showing up to the manager to page for him, I decided to check the book rack. There he was, sitting on the floor, reading "Is Camel a Mammal?" Heart attack averted.
Problem #6: self-checkout. For some reason, every item we scanned required an attendant. I was worried about losing yet another one of the kids, especially since 3 yo climbed out to help.
Bottom line: was this trip a disaster?
No, it was a learning experience. We had a groove for going to the store with just three, and now we need to find a neew groove for shopping with four. I need to work out car seat issue. Maybe I need to bring a baby wrap. Maybe I need two carts: one for the groceries and one for the kids. Maybe I need to put the carseat into snap-n-go and leave 8 yo in charge of the baby while pushing the grocery cart. Maybe I need an occupation for 3 yo which will make her feel important.
I am glad that we tried this out with a small list, this way there was less to lose. Te funny thing is, my husband said that he could get those groceries later, or my mother-in-law, but I thought that we all need to see what the shopping will be like in our neew configuration.
No, the trip was not a disaster, just a learning experience.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
random ramblings
A few snippets from these few days:
On Monday we went strawberry picking. After we were done, we had picnic lunch. At some point, 7 yo went to poke in the mud with a stick. 6 yo ( he's six today!) went to another picnic table to munch on his matzah in quiet. I was having a conversation with my sister about importance of being by yourself instead of a part of a group and how independent thinking can only be achieved this way. I was remarking how 7 yo did not ask to have playdates, see more friends, etc, but he spent a chunk of his time by himself. She was objecting, saying that my personality is more introverted than most ( it's true) and it would not work for everyone ( probably also true). As we were finishing this conversation, 6 yo suddenly says: "So, could Hashem multiply himself?" I'm pretty sure such questions do not arise from groupthink.
Later, as we started on our way back home, 7 yo said: "Everything in the world is made from something else, like tree comes from a seed." What a great opportunity to explain creation yesh meyesh as opposed to yesh meayin! Again, I'm sure that if he was playing with a bunch of kids previously instead of digging in the dirt, those thought would not develop.
Today, at breakfast, 7 yo asked a classic hagaddah question: why do we say that this year we are slaves, aren't we free? This led to a discussion of what is slavery and what is freedom.
This afternoon, the kid decided to sail cardboard boats in the bathtub. 7 yo made of his own design. Now, I can tell you a bit about buoyancy, etc, but it is one of rites of passage for a boy to design and test out his own boat. Nobody else will celebrate its triumph/failure, nobody will grade it, nobody will test it, but the lesson of making something with your own two hands and your brain will stick.
The homeschooling coop is planning a curriculum swap. This fills me with anxiety, especially being asked, now that I have a second grader, I must be using a curriculum. The truth is, I do not have a curriculum, and I'm questioning the need for curriculum till much older ages ( middle school? high school?). But I have a drive to get my kids to learn. And they have a drive to learn. Even if it involves digging in the dirt.
A friend of mine posted this:
She said it is especially for kids with special needs. I wonder if play deprivation creates kids with special needs.
As we were entering homeschooling coop today, my 6 yo grabbed onto two door handles and walked his feet up the door, till he was practically hanging upside down. No school would tolerate this behavior. I know that if he were in a traditional school, sooner or later someone would attach some kind of label to him. ADHD. Hyperactivity. Impulsiveness. Defiance. Immaturity. You think of one and slap it on. I know that by keeping him label-free, I get to see his other sides: generous heart. Overflowing gratitude. Kindness. Fairness. Intensity.
If I learn to look at my kids as just kids and not my ambassadors to the world, not test scores and brilliance and behavior issues, I will be able to relate to them as kids and not as problems.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
more unschooling
Today ended up being another unschooling day.
2 yo woke up at 6 with a fever and not a single other symptom. The boys got up and got dressed by 8. When I was placing various things in and out of storage area and they were looking for makkot animals, they pulled out an electric piano ( kid-sized). I hat that toy, they blast volume, hiss in the microphone, bang total cacophony. This time it went a bit differently. 7 yo immediately tried Twinkle Twinkle and got it, with a few mistakes. I suggested Oh Susanna ( one of his favorites). I did not know the notes, so I Goggled it. Then I realized that he did not know how to read sheet music, so I printed out keyboard layout and explained the scale. Someone will pounce on me, as I do not know the proper terms for this in English and I forgot how to sigh-read myself, but I can figure it out, with enough time. He caught on, and I started him on writing the notes' names under each note. They are labeled on the piano, so once he knows that this one is D, he can play the right one. He told me to go and worked on it for a while.
I went back to finishing my breakfast and thinking: I was taught piano for 3 years. Some of those were definitely against my will. As you can see, I do not have a whole lot to show for those years. I know that there are 8 notes. So do my kids ( Shemona Tzlilim Yafim from Shalom Sesame Chanukah). I can tell you that they are of different duration and that this part is for the right hand an this part is for the left hand. And Oh Susanna is performed to the count of four. The end.
Somehow, I was able to teach all of this in a very short period of time. The student was willing, the timing was right, the info was easily available. No, he cannot play it yet, but now I have tools to teach him and he has info in order to play.
Then we davened and shlepped to farmer's market--Pesach is still coming and nobody will buy those veggies for me. 7 yo checked off our extensive shopping list. 5 yo read which countries the vegetables came from. Then they both stood and gawked at the pineapple cutting machine. Then they asked to look at the lobsters and crayfish. Then they noticed yellow-fin tuna being sliced, it is hard not to notice a monstrosity of that size. They watched fish getting descaled and filleted. I practically had to drag them away, as 2 yo was not doing well.
7 yo switched to Boxcar Children from Greek mythology, just like that. I have four of those books, from some library sale, and, all of a sudden, they are interesting.
I got 2 yo to nap and got a start on Pesach cooking. I got 7 yo to peel eggplant and carrots and both boys to run up and down the stairs with various ingredients. One of the pilot lights went out, so I got a match and showed boys how to relight it. I also showed what happens in the oven when you turn it on. They were fascinated, 5 yo thanked me. Then he played with manual egg beater and excitedly explained how it works, how the cranking turns the gears and then the beaters. 7 yo asked to make some dessert, so we made almond bars. He measured out brown sugar and chocolate chips, ground the nuts and mixed the batter. He made a joke that it's weird dough--weirdo. Then I asked him to peel some potatoes. He asked for a reward. I promised a nut bar. He peeled away.
5 yo ran upstairs to check on sleeping toddler and then set up to play with legos. 7 yo joined him and pulled down a map. He asked me, how could Avram be promised the land all the way to Euphrates, that's part of Syria? How could that land be ours? I said that in the time of Mashiach, it will be worked out. He then asked how that could be done without wars. All of his historical reading plus chumash reading is integrating.
Once the toddler woke up, there was more misery, she just wanted to be held and cuddled. Thankfully, now her fever has broken, and all three kids are playing in the sandbox.
2 yo woke up at 6 with a fever and not a single other symptom. The boys got up and got dressed by 8. When I was placing various things in and out of storage area and they were looking for makkot animals, they pulled out an electric piano ( kid-sized). I hat that toy, they blast volume, hiss in the microphone, bang total cacophony. This time it went a bit differently. 7 yo immediately tried Twinkle Twinkle and got it, with a few mistakes. I suggested Oh Susanna ( one of his favorites). I did not know the notes, so I Goggled it. Then I realized that he did not know how to read sheet music, so I printed out keyboard layout and explained the scale. Someone will pounce on me, as I do not know the proper terms for this in English and I forgot how to sigh-read myself, but I can figure it out, with enough time. He caught on, and I started him on writing the notes' names under each note. They are labeled on the piano, so once he knows that this one is D, he can play the right one. He told me to go and worked on it for a while.
I went back to finishing my breakfast and thinking: I was taught piano for 3 years. Some of those were definitely against my will. As you can see, I do not have a whole lot to show for those years. I know that there are 8 notes. So do my kids ( Shemona Tzlilim Yafim from Shalom Sesame Chanukah). I can tell you that they are of different duration and that this part is for the right hand an this part is for the left hand. And Oh Susanna is performed to the count of four. The end.
Somehow, I was able to teach all of this in a very short period of time. The student was willing, the timing was right, the info was easily available. No, he cannot play it yet, but now I have tools to teach him and he has info in order to play.
Then we davened and shlepped to farmer's market--Pesach is still coming and nobody will buy those veggies for me. 7 yo checked off our extensive shopping list. 5 yo read which countries the vegetables came from. Then they both stood and gawked at the pineapple cutting machine. Then they asked to look at the lobsters and crayfish. Then they noticed yellow-fin tuna being sliced, it is hard not to notice a monstrosity of that size. They watched fish getting descaled and filleted. I practically had to drag them away, as 2 yo was not doing well.
7 yo switched to Boxcar Children from Greek mythology, just like that. I have four of those books, from some library sale, and, all of a sudden, they are interesting.
I got 2 yo to nap and got a start on Pesach cooking. I got 7 yo to peel eggplant and carrots and both boys to run up and down the stairs with various ingredients. One of the pilot lights went out, so I got a match and showed boys how to relight it. I also showed what happens in the oven when you turn it on. They were fascinated, 5 yo thanked me. Then he played with manual egg beater and excitedly explained how it works, how the cranking turns the gears and then the beaters. 7 yo asked to make some dessert, so we made almond bars. He measured out brown sugar and chocolate chips, ground the nuts and mixed the batter. He made a joke that it's weird dough--weirdo. Then I asked him to peel some potatoes. He asked for a reward. I promised a nut bar. He peeled away.
5 yo ran upstairs to check on sleeping toddler and then set up to play with legos. 7 yo joined him and pulled down a map. He asked me, how could Avram be promised the land all the way to Euphrates, that's part of Syria? How could that land be ours? I said that in the time of Mashiach, it will be worked out. He then asked how that could be done without wars. All of his historical reading plus chumash reading is integrating.
Once the toddler woke up, there was more misery, she just wanted to be held and cuddled. Thankfully, now her fever has broken, and all three kids are playing in the sandbox.
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