I was shocked to see how many people post lists of segulot, customs and "good things to do at the auspicious time" for Yom Kippur. It is not magic. Torah warns us strenuously and multiple times again idolatry and there are ten negative commandments (according to Rambam) that warn against omens, superstitions, astrology, divination and magical thinking shortcuts. I always thought that Yom Kippur was about teshuva, feeling bad for what you did, resolving to do better, being contrite and trying to rectify your mistakes. It is a painful process of intense internal self-search and finding yourself wanting. So I could not understand how a shortcut like "give tzedakah to our charity and erase your sins!" has any appeal beyond feeling like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound. However, this year I realized that another theme of Yom Kippur is magic unlike anything else that we see in the Torah. Hashem will erase our sins. They will not be remembered anymore, moreover, they will no longer affect us. Imagine that someone punches a hole in the wall. Now the wall has a hole. If one wants to fix it, he has to carefully patch it up, wait for the plaster to dry, smooth it, sand it down, paint it in perfectly matching color. Even then, no matter how skillful is the craftsman, with time, due to the difference of the material, one will be able to detect the exact location of the hole. It is not there, and there at the same time. What Hashem promises to us on Yom Kippur is that the wall will revert to its unpunched state. No human can do that, only Hashem. What about the scarlet thread that changes from crimson to white as the sins are erased (only in the Beis Hamikdash)? What about the essence of the Day of Atonement that itself atones? Isn't it amazing how much love Hashem has for us that He will act against the natural order just so we can all have a fresh start?
So why do people sully this with segulahs and weird additions? Is it because we have so much fear that we are willing to invoke something, ANYTHING just to remove the feeling of pending doom? Isn't is because the impulse for Avodah Zara is so strong that we are willing to stray after ridiculous proclamations hoping to get a better year and avert the inevitable death that awaits us all? And then I realized that there is another theme of Yom Kippur. The essence of Jewish people getting atonement comes from Moshe praying to G-d (on Yom Kippur!) after the idolatrous sin of the Golden Calf. We are given the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy that are recited numerous times during Selichot. Jewish people sinned because they did not understand the true nature of G-d. Jewish people sinned because they turned to an intermediary, hoping it to do "magic" for them. That's why Moshe asked Hashem to teach him his divine ways because he was hoping to bring down to people clarity so they would not stumble again.
A second idea that came to me is how I normally deal with this time of year. I have spent years missing davening.mostly due to kids being small, lack of childcare, lack of support to get to shul or to have a mental space to daven, being exhausted due to pregnancy or nursing. So usually I arrived at Yom Kippur feeling that I have not done enough, prepared enough, read up enough, did enough teshuva, did teshuva correctly, etc. I was feeling guilty (and tired and exhausted). The whole experience did not produce that fabled serene mother of many who can calmly say that taking care of her kids is her Avodah, thank you very much, why is it not cutting it for you, you must be doing it wrong... Last year I had a full mental breakdown that I kind of did not even care what kind of year I will get because whatever I tried to do during these days of repentance would not cut it.
But this year something shifted. I might still be doing it "wrong" but it seems to be working for me. I offered to give a class on Rosh HaShana machzor for women. Only one lady came, but it did not matter because I got to spend time thinking about what are the themes that have to do with these days of Awe. I also listened to Aleph Beta videos during my many hours of driving. The picture that emerged from Rosh Hashana was of Hashem as a benevolent King, a kind Ruler who only wishes good upon his subjects and eagerly awaits for them all to rectify their ways and enter into the glorious messianic era full of knowledge. There was a clear absence of guilt and dread. It seemed that the first step was crowning Hashem as King on Rosh HaShana and then receiving a royal pardon on Yom Kippur. The focus was on learning the essence of the day, understanding the ways of Hashem, realizing that he desires our teshuva and that the day will erase any wrongdoing. The Awe has to do with realizing the majesty of our Divine Ruler, not in fear. Once I have been honing this mental picture of who G-d is, I found myself desiring to be closer to him, to know more of him, and working on purifying myself spiritually to achieve even more closeness. Then, if my sins stand in the way, I will remove them as a barrier.
For the first time ever, I might be doing teshuvah meahava (from love).
In an interesting twist, once I achieved this understanding, I am no longer sad or annoyed that I am likely to miss on large parts of shul attendance due to my children. I also realized that I would not have been able to have these insights if my youngest kids were younger.
Showing posts with label preparation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label preparation. Show all posts
Friday, September 29, 2017
Monday, July 17, 2017
Dinner in an hour
This is not a foodie blog and I do not have pictures to go with what I am about to post, but I figured it might be helpful to some mom out there.
We went to a lake to swim with some homeschool friends, so I did not get started on dinner till 4. I had it on the table at 5 (fine, 5:05 for transparency's sake). No, it was not take-out. No, it was not chicken nuggets or frozen pizza. It was a solid dinner: soup, main, starch, veggie. No, it was not a miracle.
This morning I pulled a bag of chicken cutlets from the freezer. Since I buy them at Costco, I usually divide the large family pack into two bags before freezing. This bag had breasts sliced in half, so it defrosted quickly.
At 4 I turned the oven up to 400, rinsed the breasts and put them in the pan. I sprinkled them with sesame oil, soy sauce, onion flakes, garlic powder, ginger and a drizzle of honey. Then I mixed them in the pan so the breasts were well-coated, covered them with foil and stuck them in the oven. Next, I rinsed one cup of rice in another pan, added 1 3/4 cups of water, a drizzle of olive oil, covered that pan, and stuck it in the oven with the chicken.
I usually make this quick zucchini soup. two onions, chopped, 4-6 zucchini, chopped into chunks, vegetable broth to cover, 1/4 cup of rice, bring to a boil, add seasoning, simmer for 20 minutes, puree with immersion blender straight in the pot, voila! Except that I like to doctor it up: add quinoa instead of rice, or throw in extra veggies. Today, as I was reaching for a bag of quinoa, I found a package of edamame noodles from Costco. They were brittle, they were green, and they had zero appeal of the noodles, so they were sitting in the pantry. An evil genius idea of a substitution: why don't I crumble them in instead of quinoa, then puree and nobody will know? Look at all the extra protein! Look at me salvaging what I'm sure were expensive noodles, languishing here! Hehe! So in they went. I made a mental note to remove any traces of what I did before the kids who will come to set the table express their opinion on my substitution without a taste test.
While the soup was simmering, I pulled out a bag of string beans and another pan. I trimmed the ends, tossed them with a bit of olive oil, spread them in a pan and sprinkled with salt. Then they went in the oven together with the chicken and rice.
I checked my phone. I stretched. This dinner was practically cooking itself. I uncovered the chicken so it could get dry in its sauce. I threw a bunch of parsley from my garden into the soup (it's about the only thing that grew in the garden, but it sounds very foodie of me now: freshly snipped parsley! In reality, I was too lazy to go and get scissors, so I twisted and yanked). I pureed the soup while adding cumin and curry and called the kids to set the table.
They fought. Just because I had dinner under control did not mean that they turn into angels. One child provoked another. By the time, I took a bathroom break, a steady wail in stereo leaked under the door. One child touched another. One child lost dessert.
It was dinnertime. Dinner was served.
They ate the soup with the green edamame noodles incorporated into it. Hint: soup croutons make all soup taste better. Some asked for seconds. They discussed how much fun they had playing with their friends, making elaborate sand dams.
Save this post for the next time dinner prep gets in the way of getting together with some friends and spending the day at the beach.
We went to a lake to swim with some homeschool friends, so I did not get started on dinner till 4. I had it on the table at 5 (fine, 5:05 for transparency's sake). No, it was not take-out. No, it was not chicken nuggets or frozen pizza. It was a solid dinner: soup, main, starch, veggie. No, it was not a miracle.
This morning I pulled a bag of chicken cutlets from the freezer. Since I buy them at Costco, I usually divide the large family pack into two bags before freezing. This bag had breasts sliced in half, so it defrosted quickly.
At 4 I turned the oven up to 400, rinsed the breasts and put them in the pan. I sprinkled them with sesame oil, soy sauce, onion flakes, garlic powder, ginger and a drizzle of honey. Then I mixed them in the pan so the breasts were well-coated, covered them with foil and stuck them in the oven. Next, I rinsed one cup of rice in another pan, added 1 3/4 cups of water, a drizzle of olive oil, covered that pan, and stuck it in the oven with the chicken.
I usually make this quick zucchini soup. two onions, chopped, 4-6 zucchini, chopped into chunks, vegetable broth to cover, 1/4 cup of rice, bring to a boil, add seasoning, simmer for 20 minutes, puree with immersion blender straight in the pot, voila! Except that I like to doctor it up: add quinoa instead of rice, or throw in extra veggies. Today, as I was reaching for a bag of quinoa, I found a package of edamame noodles from Costco. They were brittle, they were green, and they had zero appeal of the noodles, so they were sitting in the pantry. An evil genius idea of a substitution: why don't I crumble them in instead of quinoa, then puree and nobody will know? Look at all the extra protein! Look at me salvaging what I'm sure were expensive noodles, languishing here! Hehe! So in they went. I made a mental note to remove any traces of what I did before the kids who will come to set the table express their opinion on my substitution without a taste test.
While the soup was simmering, I pulled out a bag of string beans and another pan. I trimmed the ends, tossed them with a bit of olive oil, spread them in a pan and sprinkled with salt. Then they went in the oven together with the chicken and rice.
I checked my phone. I stretched. This dinner was practically cooking itself. I uncovered the chicken so it could get dry in its sauce. I threw a bunch of parsley from my garden into the soup (it's about the only thing that grew in the garden, but it sounds very foodie of me now: freshly snipped parsley! In reality, I was too lazy to go and get scissors, so I twisted and yanked). I pureed the soup while adding cumin and curry and called the kids to set the table.
They fought. Just because I had dinner under control did not mean that they turn into angels. One child provoked another. By the time, I took a bathroom break, a steady wail in stereo leaked under the door. One child touched another. One child lost dessert.
It was dinnertime. Dinner was served.
They ate the soup with the green edamame noodles incorporated into it. Hint: soup croutons make all soup taste better. Some asked for seconds. They discussed how much fun they had playing with their friends, making elaborate sand dams.
Save this post for the next time dinner prep gets in the way of getting together with some friends and spending the day at the beach.
Monday, April 20, 2015
closing time
On Friday I took both boys for their annual check-up. I had to beg the pediatrician to fit us in between their actual birthdays and before this baby, as they do not schedule three appointments at the same time. 11 yo needed shots, so the insurance would not cover a visit before his actual birthday. I ended up taking them on Friday afternoon.
Between my dear friend and my MIL, I did not have to bring all four kids with me, so I assumed the appointment will be a piece of cake. The pediatrician is located not far from the taekwondo studio, so maybe we would even make it to a Friday afternoon class, in the spirit of trying to get in as many classes before the baby as possible. I told boys to pack up their uniforms and gear and load up.
When we were being taken in by a nurse, 11 yo asked right off the bat whether there are any shots in store. He was told that there are going to be two, and he took that info in stride. Then 9 yo timidly inquired whether he is getting any shots. He was reassured that there will be none, and he visibly exhaled. Then, as the nurse was finishing inputting their measurements, she said how 9 yo will need a finger stick to measure his cholesterol, but it is not a big deal.
It turned out to be a big deal. For a child with anxiety, being told something new like this was a big deal. He immediately kicked into full panic mode: crying, screaming, begging not to be pricked, asking why he deserves this, etc. It took three nurses to hold him down to get that prick. By this point, 11 yo was starting to lose his cool, so be stepped out. I was trying to talk to 9 yo, and I even asked the nurses to back off, to give him on minute to decide which hand will get pricked, but he was too far gone. I remained calm for as long as I could, but when he started trying to kick the nurses, I firmly said that he cannot do that. Meanwhile, the nurses invoked: "Don't upset your pregnant momma" mantra which I really wished they didn't. At the end, he was left sniffling and screaming, huddling on a chair, waiting for a doctor.
11 yo hopped onto an exam table, and mumbled something about losing his resolve to stay calm for his shots. He tried lightening the mood in the room by clowning around a bit. The rest of the appointment was unremarkable, and 9 yo cooperated with the doctor just fine. Then those shots came. By the time the nurse told 11 yo to relax and stuck him, he went into hysterical giggling: "It didn't hurt! It didn't hurt!" He was laughing, but there were tears in his eyes. Clearly, he had had enough emotions and they were spilling out.
When we checked out, there were only ten minutes left till taekwondo, so I asked boys whether they wanted to rush it. Both of them shook their heads "no", so we hit the ice cream store instead. Ever since the kids were vey little, I promised ice cream for those doctor appointments which involved shots. It was a nice way to end a possible nerve-wrecking outing, and it left a taste of something sweet. I did not promise such a treat to boys apriori, but, after what we've all been through, it seemed fitting.
It was raining, and it has been raining for the whole week. The ice cream place is outdoors, but they have a small canopy. Everyone ordered a scoop, and we stood there, silently eating our cones and looking out into the rain.
It was the zen moment of the day. 9 yo finally relaxed. 11 yo was rendered speechless, just savoring his cone and standing there. I was thinking of what my life would be like if I only had to take care of a 9 yo and 11 yo, instead of catering to much smaller creatures. I was enjoying this moment of knowing that everyone near me is relaxed, content and thankful for the treat (both boys thanked me, easing into gratitude).
The speaker above us pumped in "Closing Time" by Semisonic. How fitting: I have heard this song numerous times, but never paid very close attention to the words, assuming it is all about being kicked out of a bar. Recently, I have seen a little tidbit floating around, saying that the song is really about impending parenthood, and the ambivalent feelings that come with it. Now I was really listening.
I am in my last weeks pregnancy, yet I feel strangely unsettled. I can't put a finger on it: what is that project, that nesting activity that I need to complete in order to feel ready and prepared for this baby? It is not a matter of finding a trusting practitioner, or getting labor support. It is not a matter of a doula. It is not a matter of getting baby things set up. I have all of that in place, or close enough. It is a hang-up in my brain, keeping me from being ready.
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
As we were looking into the rain, my two older boys and I, I had this strong feeling how this might be the last Shabbos that I am having with just four kids. This baby is a new life, a new beginning, yet, it is also an end of an era. It is the end of "four kid" stage. It might sound funny to those who have one or two kids: does it really make any difference whether there are four kids or five? Isn't four already in the slightly crazy, big family category? Besides, the youngest is only two, so this "four kid" stage only lasted for a short while. Yet, in my head, four was within some grander logical scheme, and five is beyond that. Five is a whole next step. Five is where I cannot keep them all at home. Five is where we do not fit into any sedan, no matter how we contort ourselves. Five does not fit around a standard table. Five is this new area, which does not fold into itself neatly. It is a prime number, it is a star.
"Every new beginning come from some other beginning's end."
My last surviving grandmother is on her last breath. My mother is with her, and it is also an end of an era. It's the end of my grandparents, it is the end of my kids being blessed with having seen their great grandmother. We visited her in the summer, but she has long joined the dementia world of endless summer, or endless dark, so it was not a coherent visit.It was a long good-bye, drawn out over many moons, many years. Now, as a great grandchild is about to take a first breath, a generation is taking its last. The interplay of grief/relief/joy, the end juxtaposed with a beginning.
We finished our ice creams and came home to the usual hustle and bustle of a four kid household in preparation for Shabbos. "You don't have to go, but you can't stay here."
Between my dear friend and my MIL, I did not have to bring all four kids with me, so I assumed the appointment will be a piece of cake. The pediatrician is located not far from the taekwondo studio, so maybe we would even make it to a Friday afternoon class, in the spirit of trying to get in as many classes before the baby as possible. I told boys to pack up their uniforms and gear and load up.
When we were being taken in by a nurse, 11 yo asked right off the bat whether there are any shots in store. He was told that there are going to be two, and he took that info in stride. Then 9 yo timidly inquired whether he is getting any shots. He was reassured that there will be none, and he visibly exhaled. Then, as the nurse was finishing inputting their measurements, she said how 9 yo will need a finger stick to measure his cholesterol, but it is not a big deal.
It turned out to be a big deal. For a child with anxiety, being told something new like this was a big deal. He immediately kicked into full panic mode: crying, screaming, begging not to be pricked, asking why he deserves this, etc. It took three nurses to hold him down to get that prick. By this point, 11 yo was starting to lose his cool, so be stepped out. I was trying to talk to 9 yo, and I even asked the nurses to back off, to give him on minute to decide which hand will get pricked, but he was too far gone. I remained calm for as long as I could, but when he started trying to kick the nurses, I firmly said that he cannot do that. Meanwhile, the nurses invoked: "Don't upset your pregnant momma" mantra which I really wished they didn't. At the end, he was left sniffling and screaming, huddling on a chair, waiting for a doctor.
11 yo hopped onto an exam table, and mumbled something about losing his resolve to stay calm for his shots. He tried lightening the mood in the room by clowning around a bit. The rest of the appointment was unremarkable, and 9 yo cooperated with the doctor just fine. Then those shots came. By the time the nurse told 11 yo to relax and stuck him, he went into hysterical giggling: "It didn't hurt! It didn't hurt!" He was laughing, but there were tears in his eyes. Clearly, he had had enough emotions and they were spilling out.
When we checked out, there were only ten minutes left till taekwondo, so I asked boys whether they wanted to rush it. Both of them shook their heads "no", so we hit the ice cream store instead. Ever since the kids were vey little, I promised ice cream for those doctor appointments which involved shots. It was a nice way to end a possible nerve-wrecking outing, and it left a taste of something sweet. I did not promise such a treat to boys apriori, but, after what we've all been through, it seemed fitting.
It was raining, and it has been raining for the whole week. The ice cream place is outdoors, but they have a small canopy. Everyone ordered a scoop, and we stood there, silently eating our cones and looking out into the rain.
It was the zen moment of the day. 9 yo finally relaxed. 11 yo was rendered speechless, just savoring his cone and standing there. I was thinking of what my life would be like if I only had to take care of a 9 yo and 11 yo, instead of catering to much smaller creatures. I was enjoying this moment of knowing that everyone near me is relaxed, content and thankful for the treat (both boys thanked me, easing into gratitude).
The speaker above us pumped in "Closing Time" by Semisonic. How fitting: I have heard this song numerous times, but never paid very close attention to the words, assuming it is all about being kicked out of a bar. Recently, I have seen a little tidbit floating around, saying that the song is really about impending parenthood, and the ambivalent feelings that come with it. Now I was really listening.
I am in my last weeks pregnancy, yet I feel strangely unsettled. I can't put a finger on it: what is that project, that nesting activity that I need to complete in order to feel ready and prepared for this baby? It is not a matter of finding a trusting practitioner, or getting labor support. It is not a matter of a doula. It is not a matter of getting baby things set up. I have all of that in place, or close enough. It is a hang-up in my brain, keeping me from being ready.
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
As we were looking into the rain, my two older boys and I, I had this strong feeling how this might be the last Shabbos that I am having with just four kids. This baby is a new life, a new beginning, yet, it is also an end of an era. It is the end of "four kid" stage. It might sound funny to those who have one or two kids: does it really make any difference whether there are four kids or five? Isn't four already in the slightly crazy, big family category? Besides, the youngest is only two, so this "four kid" stage only lasted for a short while. Yet, in my head, four was within some grander logical scheme, and five is beyond that. Five is a whole next step. Five is where I cannot keep them all at home. Five is where we do not fit into any sedan, no matter how we contort ourselves. Five does not fit around a standard table. Five is this new area, which does not fold into itself neatly. It is a prime number, it is a star.
"Every new beginning come from some other beginning's end."
My last surviving grandmother is on her last breath. My mother is with her, and it is also an end of an era. It's the end of my grandparents, it is the end of my kids being blessed with having seen their great grandmother. We visited her in the summer, but she has long joined the dementia world of endless summer, or endless dark, so it was not a coherent visit.It was a long good-bye, drawn out over many moons, many years. Now, as a great grandchild is about to take a first breath, a generation is taking its last. The interplay of grief/relief/joy, the end juxtaposed with a beginning.
We finished our ice creams and came home to the usual hustle and bustle of a four kid household in preparation for Shabbos. "You don't have to go, but you can't stay here."
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?
Thursday, August 22, 2013
pre-Rosh haShana party
 |
| lining the tins for the muffins |
He very agreeably did chumash and even asked Rashi's question on how come the ark did not get stuck on the mountains if it was 30 amos high, and the waters were only 15 amos deep. I just like when he engages with the text like this, in a meaningful way. He was also all revved up ready for his mishna lesson, which went well.
The other kids were not too bad, either. 7 yo got his breakfast, davened and did HWT and math early in the morning. He has addition/subtraction review. For the first time, he looked at the page, saw an overwhelming problem, and listened to my suggestion to skip it and do easy ones first. When he came back to it, it was easy. Then he decided to check which problem had the largest number as its answer. I used to think these were distracting and pointless exercises, but now I know that's the way he relates to math. I read somewhere about other kids doing similar things: wondering why they are adding apples and bananas, asking where the people in the problem are walking, etc. For him, it is about searching some kind of info that is not obvious to me.
 |
| chopping walnuts |
For 3 yo, I sliced an apple horizontally across and she made apple stamps. We talked about an apple before I sliced it; I asked her what shape it is, which color, whether it is smooth or rough, hard or soft. I told her about the stem and how it grew from an apple tree. She stamped away for a bit.
Then it was 11:30 and we were finished with the planned part of the day (until taekwondo). The anxious side of me felt the need to assign something else, come up with a plan, DO SOMETHING. I suggested going out after lunch and was met with resistance.I wanted to get out of the house, walk outside, go to the park, the museum, somewhere. The kids (except for 3 yo) were not so keen on this. Finally it was after lunch, (which 9 yo skipped since he played computer games and repeatedly ignored calls for food), I said that if they do not want to do anything, I can go to IKEA. Next thing I knew, we were in the middle of planning a "dip your apple in the honey" party. It was to take place this afternoon, in an hour, and would I make some phone calls to invite some friends? The planner in me was blown to shambles. Of course, nobody will come, and who plans a party just like that? The homeschool parent wanted to see how far they will go with this. They came up with apple toss: throw an apple into a hole in the board, draw a picture, have a dipped apple slice. I suggested making a Shana Tova card, blowing a shofar and baking a honey cake. 9 yo added watching Rosh HaShana videos.
 |
| honey dipping |
Nobody came, but the kids were adamant about the party being today. We made chocolate honey muffins. The boys pulled out the ingredients. 9 yo stirred chocolate and margarine while they melted. 7 yo cracked the eggs. Then we watched the videos: Fountainheads, Maccabeats and Aish's Anthem. Everyone had a go at the shofar. I found a new instructional video and 9 yo actually managed to blow! Last year, he could not do it, so he kept at it. 7 yo decided to make an apple out of Legos. Then everyone came to have apples with honey and muffins.
Then there was taekwondo. When I dropped the boys off, 3 yo said that we should go to the park to meet some friends. The funny part it, one of my homeschooling friends posted just this week how her son declared that they should go walking to make friends, and they did. I guess those homeschool kids know when they are ready to socialize.
All in all, I think how it is easy to measure learning just in terms of the academics we did this morning as opposed to the life skill learning the kids did this afternoon. How many people would plan and pull off a party just because they feel like it today?
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
motivational shofar
Last night, uncharacteristically, I decided to plan for today. Actually, I planned a zoo outing for today, but they were promising thunderstorms, so I had to come up with an alternative. I decided to focus on Rosh HaShana. The plan was to finish writing Shana Tova cards, listen to the sounds of shofar, review some halachot, and then take a trip to a local Judaica store to buy a shofar for boys to practice. I found myself digging deeply through chinuch.org. Whenever I find myself doing that, it's some insecurity talking. Maybe those kids in school are learning something that we're missing. Maybe I myself still do not have a good grasp on what I am about to teach. Either way, usually I peruse and download, only to use one or two activities. This time I found a real jem: Rosh HaShana math. I thought this would be perfect for 8 yo: review the halachot while doing math. For 6 yo I found this song. I out down math, as usual, for both boys, spelling and chumash for the older and Lama for the younger. Now I was all set.
My plan worked: getting a shofar at the end of the day was great motivation. 8 yo jumped at his RH math, skipped a few, needed help with some, and completed some with a flourish. In the process, he learned about adding and subtracting minutes to measure elapsed time, halachik measurements and that his kiddush cup is not big enough, decimals, reason for the sheehiyanu on the new fruit, and that Chanukah is waaay after all the chagim. 6 yo looked over the song by himself, but he was intimidated by all the Hebrew, so we sang it together. I explained the first 8 halachot.
Lama went smoothly, and so did Roman numerals. Then came chumash, last subject of the day, again. 8 yo expressed that he feels behind. I think he was talking to his former classmates and found out that they are midway through Chayei Sarah, while we are just getting started. I asked him, who does more work with the pesukim, they or him? He agreed that he does more work, while they just repeat translations. I said that since he is putting in more effort, he is learning them better. He expressed a thought that they sill remember everything they learned in the beginning of Lech Lecha. I told him to ask them.
What I think he is missing is that they just memorize, while he is gaining skills. He can look back in Lech Lecha at the parts he does not remember and figure them out, while they might be stuck if their memory fails them.
He cheered up a bit when we did a bit with ger-toshav (sojourner-resident) of Avraham. I told him honestly that this perek sounds boring and not "juicy", but there is a lot of important information going on in here. He asked me, how could Avraham be both? I directed him straight to Rashi. He was able to translate the first part, and I had to translated Medrash Agada. And I gave him a jelly bean for asking a question. As my friend would say, let the Torah be sweet...
Finally, we got the store. The shofars were a whole lot more expensive than I expected. I told boys that they can get one real one (on the cheaper end). 8 yo chose his and grabbed on for his dear life. 6 yo seesawed between wanting to share and wanting his own. 2 yo picked out a plastic pink one. 8 yo settled on a black one. 8 yo spotted a wooden puzzle of the Beis Hamikdash and asked me to get it. I asked him, whether he would like it for him Yom Tov present, and he said yes, he would like to build a Beis HaMikdash for Rosh HaShana. The saleslady had a ball. The boys also asked to buy Yeshiva Boys' Choir CD. They have watched a few youtube videos and are fans now.
So there we were, leaving the store, three shofars in tow. In car, we popped in the CD and the boys rocked to Amen. I was thinking, how frum we all look here, but also how naturally we ended up at this point.
When we got home, 8 yo tried blowing his shofar and could not get it. I found a few youtube tutorials, so he is working on it. His goal is to able to blow for the minyan by the time he is bar mitzvah. Ok, this one is a realistic one. 2 came crying to me that her shofar broke. A piece of plastic was missing on the mouth piece. I asked her, what happened? She said, I eat it. Not much we could do here. I gave her a hug and, so far, she is sharing with 6 yo.
My plan worked: getting a shofar at the end of the day was great motivation. 8 yo jumped at his RH math, skipped a few, needed help with some, and completed some with a flourish. In the process, he learned about adding and subtracting minutes to measure elapsed time, halachik measurements and that his kiddush cup is not big enough, decimals, reason for the sheehiyanu on the new fruit, and that Chanukah is waaay after all the chagim. 6 yo looked over the song by himself, but he was intimidated by all the Hebrew, so we sang it together. I explained the first 8 halachot.Lama went smoothly, and so did Roman numerals. Then came chumash, last subject of the day, again. 8 yo expressed that he feels behind. I think he was talking to his former classmates and found out that they are midway through Chayei Sarah, while we are just getting started. I asked him, who does more work with the pesukim, they or him? He agreed that he does more work, while they just repeat translations. I said that since he is putting in more effort, he is learning them better. He expressed a thought that they sill remember everything they learned in the beginning of Lech Lecha. I told him to ask them.
What I think he is missing is that they just memorize, while he is gaining skills. He can look back in Lech Lecha at the parts he does not remember and figure them out, while they might be stuck if their memory fails them.
He cheered up a bit when we did a bit with ger-toshav (sojourner-resident) of Avraham. I told him honestly that this perek sounds boring and not "juicy", but there is a lot of important information going on in here. He asked me, how could Avraham be both? I directed him straight to Rashi. He was able to translate the first part, and I had to translated Medrash Agada. And I gave him a jelly bean for asking a question. As my friend would say, let the Torah be sweet...
Finally, we got the store. The shofars were a whole lot more expensive than I expected. I told boys that they can get one real one (on the cheaper end). 8 yo chose his and grabbed on for his dear life. 6 yo seesawed between wanting to share and wanting his own. 2 yo picked out a plastic pink one. 8 yo settled on a black one. 8 yo spotted a wooden puzzle of the Beis Hamikdash and asked me to get it. I asked him, whether he would like it for him Yom Tov present, and he said yes, he would like to build a Beis HaMikdash for Rosh HaShana. The saleslady had a ball. The boys also asked to buy Yeshiva Boys' Choir CD. They have watched a few youtube videos and are fans now.
So there we were, leaving the store, three shofars in tow. In car, we popped in the CD and the boys rocked to Amen. I was thinking, how frum we all look here, but also how naturally we ended up at this point.
When we got home, 8 yo tried blowing his shofar and could not get it. I found a few youtube tutorials, so he is working on it. His goal is to able to blow for the minyan by the time he is bar mitzvah. Ok, this one is a realistic one. 2 came crying to me that her shofar broke. A piece of plastic was missing on the mouth piece. I asked her, what happened? She said, I eat it. Not much we could do here. I gave her a hug and, so far, she is sharing with 6 yo.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
wish list for the next school year
I went to Target last week and bought bare-bones supplies for next year:
- ruled paper (loose-leaf binders work for us)
- graph paper ( per request of 8 yo)
- dividers for binders
- ruler
- planner for me ( to pretend that I am keeping track of it all)
- composition notebooks for boys' journaling (and I suspect they might remain empty)
- two folders with prongs ( to keep math work)
- watercolors (2 yo request)
- tape, glue, erasers--for some reason, these items are always getting used up or lost
This is what I bought or am buying online:
- Handwriting Without Tears: script for 8 yo ( his request, I am not sure it is necessary to learn script any more) and printing reinforcement for 6 yo. I also got their journal for 6 yo, maybe this year he will feel confident enough to start writing
- What Your Third Grade Needs to Know (for me as a loose guide, but 8 yo to read stories and social studies)
- Math Mammoth (hopefully it will be a thinking kind of curriculum, with neat tricks along the way)
- many Jewish books: Pirkei Avot, Yonah, cartoons (Dovid Ben Yishai, Rashi. Elishama and Ephraim Leave Mitzrayim, The Children of Shushan fight Haman), books about mishkan and Beit HaMikdash
- many Jewish CDs: 613 Torah Ave on parsha and tefila, Story Tyme with rabbi Juravel for Pesach and Succot, some DVDs ( BeGan Shel Dudu)
I am planning to utilize the library to supplement. We take out lots of science books, social studies, literature, picture books, arts and crafts. We also get CDs and occasional DVD out, usually an educational one.
Here is the actual wish list:
- globe
- political map of the world
- map of the US
- map of Israel (without funny cutouts)
- electric pencil sharpener
- origami paper
- molecular modeling kit
- 3-D puzzle of the Beit hamikdash
- timeline paper
- science kits: weather, acid rain, water quality, etc.
Books:
- Round and Round the Jewish Year Volume 4
- One Special Prayer
- Seven Special Weeks
- Rabeinu Shmuel HaNagid
- How Things Work
- biographies of composers and artists
Monday, May 14, 2012
today was better
I am typing this right now as a breather, between homeschooling, cooking and gymnastics.
Today was better. I planned out the day the night before, wrote it out and browsed through the next perek. I printed out a hundreds chart for 8 yo to skip-count by 6s, 7s, 8s and 9s, and made a comparison chart for ancient Greeks and Romans.
First of all, I got out early to exercise. Last week, I went once during the day and noticed how much more energetic I am when I am not half-asleep. But I do not have a lot of choice WHEN I can go, so I am grateful that I can go at all and that I can afford to work out in a gym.
I got home, everyone was still asleep. I caught up on e-mail, as the kids came out. They boys marched straight downstairs to play some kind of army game. They found toy soldiers from a few years back and spent yesterday's rainy afternoon staging battles. Eventually, everyone got dressed, had breakfast and bentched. I davened with 6 yo, who is now fluent in birchot hashachar, as long as he can do a handstand on the couch while screaming out each bracha. 8 yo hit upon the idea of drumming while davening ( pardon the pun), and went downstairs to do so. He came up, glowing, and informed me that he also said Ashrei.
While he was drumming, 6 yo picked history. We started a chapter on ancient China, and I asked him to bring a map to show him how China ended up being the Far East. We also found India, Mesopotamia ad Egypt that we previously read about. He enthusiastically informed me that Indians could trade with Egyptians, since they can sail to each other. He also traced how far Israel is from where we live, and told me to watch the ocean for dolphins. I said that you cannot see dolphins from the plane, only clouds. Then we read about China and silkworms. When I started reading, he told me to ask him questions at the end about what he read. Ok, no problem, I can check off reading comprehension for the day. Then we read about pictographs. I asked him to "write" me a message in pictographs. It did not go so smoothly, but eventually, we came up with a message and a representation for it. I pushed towards the idea that pictures can be ambiguous, unless you know exactly what each symbol stands for.
Then he did Lashon Hatorah, he added another prefix, but he seems to know them well and still colors in the lines. He finished the morning with handwriting. He is almost done with HWT, but he avoids writing in English. It does not come out smoothly, and he still hesitates on letter formation. I do not want to push through the summer with work, but I am worried that a lot of handwriting did not register so well.
As of last week, I was ready to declare summer vacation, but today showed me that there is still steam left. 8 yo did Rosetta Stone, Greek and Roman comparison chart ( not so eagerly) and then I gave him the hundreds chart. I told him just to do skip count by 6's, then 7s, then 8s and then 9s, hoping that some will assimilate and help with multiplication. He used a different color for each number and noticed that they overlapped on some. He also noticed patterns, for predicting where the next multiple will come up. He decided to add 5s. He found that tow number had three different colors on them. I told him that meant they were multiples of all those numbers. I told him he can get one of them (72) by multiplying two of the three of its multiples (6, 8, 9). He figured out which ones and wanted to try it for the other one (90) using its multiples (5, 6, 9). He was perplexed that it did not work, so I introduced him to prime numbers. I broke down 6 and 9, and then showed how 90 is produced from primes. For his next step, he decided to skip count by 4s, 3s and 2s, which wonderfully left u s with a board full of unshaded prime numbers. He kept muttering, how much fun this is. Every time he would end on an unshaded square, he "discovered" it. He enjoyed it, and I enjoyed watching him. I also brought his attention to the fact that the higher you go, the more scarce the prime numbers become. Ah, the freedom of doing anything you want with any given material and just watching where it takes you.
After lunch, the boys were getting restless. I told them they can finish very quickly and have time to play. 8yo tried doing Lashon haTorah quickly, got half of it wrong and then lashed out how he doesn't even want to learn Hebrew. I asked him to fix it. He said that he'll just tell me the answers. I asked him to write them down. He said that he's squeeze them in. I asked to erase and fix the wrong ones. He stormed off, but did it. On the second try, he got them all right.
6 yo did Rosetta Stone and math. He wants me to sit with him. I know he can do it alone. He gets distracted a lot. I wish he would just focus on the task at hand. He manipulated Base Ten Blocks and got all the answers, but he kept writing in wrong numbers, erasing, and then writing in the same wrong number. Then he picked two "hot" problems from the bottom of the page. I said, fine. I started Chumash with 8 yo. He came in, telling me that he needs help. I said, I cannot help right now, do your best. He sulked. He said they are trying to trick him. I suggested he use base ten blocks again. He immediately saw the answer, he had to go into the next hundred. I just so wish he would at least try instead of giving up on the spot.
In Chmuash, we started the next perek. I asked 8 yo to read the first 4 pesukim and tell me what he thinks they are about. He read them fluently and said they are about the birth of Yitzhak. He also decided to write down every single word he does not know, so I was happy to see such diligence. It will come in handy for review. I thought he would ask lots of questions, but he did not. I asked him which moed is the Torah talking about. Eventually, he figured out that it has to do with 3 guests and that prophesy. He did not remember Vatahar, so I looked back to the daughters of Lot. He remembered from there, but still chose to write it down. I also thought he would ask about repetitive language of this son being born to Avraham from Sarah, but he did not. He also did not know what Vaimol was, so I showed him at the end of Lech Lecha. Then he asked how to spell "circumcised" and I told him, explaining what the root was.
Then 6yo did Lama with drama. 8 yo did spelling and got all the words right. 6 yo wanted to go outside to play. 8 yo wanted to draw dinosaurs ( thanks, Shaina Silverman, it's that birthday book coming in handy). 2 yo wanted to be held. I wanted a few minutes of quiet.
My quiet will come when all the kids are in bed.
Today was better. I planned out the day the night before, wrote it out and browsed through the next perek. I printed out a hundreds chart for 8 yo to skip-count by 6s, 7s, 8s and 9s, and made a comparison chart for ancient Greeks and Romans.
First of all, I got out early to exercise. Last week, I went once during the day and noticed how much more energetic I am when I am not half-asleep. But I do not have a lot of choice WHEN I can go, so I am grateful that I can go at all and that I can afford to work out in a gym.
I got home, everyone was still asleep. I caught up on e-mail, as the kids came out. They boys marched straight downstairs to play some kind of army game. They found toy soldiers from a few years back and spent yesterday's rainy afternoon staging battles. Eventually, everyone got dressed, had breakfast and bentched. I davened with 6 yo, who is now fluent in birchot hashachar, as long as he can do a handstand on the couch while screaming out each bracha. 8 yo hit upon the idea of drumming while davening ( pardon the pun), and went downstairs to do so. He came up, glowing, and informed me that he also said Ashrei.
While he was drumming, 6 yo picked history. We started a chapter on ancient China, and I asked him to bring a map to show him how China ended up being the Far East. We also found India, Mesopotamia ad Egypt that we previously read about. He enthusiastically informed me that Indians could trade with Egyptians, since they can sail to each other. He also traced how far Israel is from where we live, and told me to watch the ocean for dolphins. I said that you cannot see dolphins from the plane, only clouds. Then we read about China and silkworms. When I started reading, he told me to ask him questions at the end about what he read. Ok, no problem, I can check off reading comprehension for the day. Then we read about pictographs. I asked him to "write" me a message in pictographs. It did not go so smoothly, but eventually, we came up with a message and a representation for it. I pushed towards the idea that pictures can be ambiguous, unless you know exactly what each symbol stands for.
Then he did Lashon Hatorah, he added another prefix, but he seems to know them well and still colors in the lines. He finished the morning with handwriting. He is almost done with HWT, but he avoids writing in English. It does not come out smoothly, and he still hesitates on letter formation. I do not want to push through the summer with work, but I am worried that a lot of handwriting did not register so well.
As of last week, I was ready to declare summer vacation, but today showed me that there is still steam left. 8 yo did Rosetta Stone, Greek and Roman comparison chart ( not so eagerly) and then I gave him the hundreds chart. I told him just to do skip count by 6's, then 7s, then 8s and then 9s, hoping that some will assimilate and help with multiplication. He used a different color for each number and noticed that they overlapped on some. He also noticed patterns, for predicting where the next multiple will come up. He decided to add 5s. He found that tow number had three different colors on them. I told him that meant they were multiples of all those numbers. I told him he can get one of them (72) by multiplying two of the three of its multiples (6, 8, 9). He figured out which ones and wanted to try it for the other one (90) using its multiples (5, 6, 9). He was perplexed that it did not work, so I introduced him to prime numbers. I broke down 6 and 9, and then showed how 90 is produced from primes. For his next step, he decided to skip count by 4s, 3s and 2s, which wonderfully left u s with a board full of unshaded prime numbers. He kept muttering, how much fun this is. Every time he would end on an unshaded square, he "discovered" it. He enjoyed it, and I enjoyed watching him. I also brought his attention to the fact that the higher you go, the more scarce the prime numbers become. Ah, the freedom of doing anything you want with any given material and just watching where it takes you.
After lunch, the boys were getting restless. I told them they can finish very quickly and have time to play. 8yo tried doing Lashon haTorah quickly, got half of it wrong and then lashed out how he doesn't even want to learn Hebrew. I asked him to fix it. He said that he'll just tell me the answers. I asked him to write them down. He said that he's squeeze them in. I asked to erase and fix the wrong ones. He stormed off, but did it. On the second try, he got them all right.
6 yo did Rosetta Stone and math. He wants me to sit with him. I know he can do it alone. He gets distracted a lot. I wish he would just focus on the task at hand. He manipulated Base Ten Blocks and got all the answers, but he kept writing in wrong numbers, erasing, and then writing in the same wrong number. Then he picked two "hot" problems from the bottom of the page. I said, fine. I started Chumash with 8 yo. He came in, telling me that he needs help. I said, I cannot help right now, do your best. He sulked. He said they are trying to trick him. I suggested he use base ten blocks again. He immediately saw the answer, he had to go into the next hundred. I just so wish he would at least try instead of giving up on the spot.
In Chmuash, we started the next perek. I asked 8 yo to read the first 4 pesukim and tell me what he thinks they are about. He read them fluently and said they are about the birth of Yitzhak. He also decided to write down every single word he does not know, so I was happy to see such diligence. It will come in handy for review. I thought he would ask lots of questions, but he did not. I asked him which moed is the Torah talking about. Eventually, he figured out that it has to do with 3 guests and that prophesy. He did not remember Vatahar, so I looked back to the daughters of Lot. He remembered from there, but still chose to write it down. I also thought he would ask about repetitive language of this son being born to Avraham from Sarah, but he did not. He also did not know what Vaimol was, so I showed him at the end of Lech Lecha. Then he asked how to spell "circumcised" and I told him, explaining what the root was.
Then 6yo did Lama with drama. 8 yo did spelling and got all the words right. 6 yo wanted to go outside to play. 8 yo wanted to draw dinosaurs ( thanks, Shaina Silverman, it's that birthday book coming in handy). 2 yo wanted to be held. I wanted a few minutes of quiet.
My quiet will come when all the kids are in bed.
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