Do not be afraid!

I lied.

I got on the Internet after Shabbos and there was an article about a credible threat from ISIS through Anonymous that there might be a local terror attack planned for tomorrow. 11 yo was sitting next to me as I was scrolling, and he saw it, too.

"Are you scared? Are they going to blow us up?"
"There will not be a terrorist attack here tomorrow. Are you kidding?! They will beef up security, they will scan and check everything, it would be simply stupid to try to do anything like that tomorrow."

I said these words with a straight face.

I lied.

I do not know whether or not there will be an attack here tomorrow. By definition, anyone who straps a suicide belt on and goes out to maim complete strangers is not following the rules of logic. They are the ones most likely to do stupid thing like try to carry out an attack at all costs.

So what do I say to my kids?

Do I tell them that there is a part of me which wants to crawl into bed under a large blanket with all of them and hold them close and shut my ears until the world is going to turn sane again?

Do I tell them that there are scary and mean people out there, willing to knife us just because?

Do I tell them how I want to feel safe and not go anywhere?

But that means that those terrorists won. They would win by instilling that level of fear. And I cannot stay in tomorrow. It's a Sunday and my husband is home. 9 yo has a rescheduled violin lesson. 5 yo wants to ride her bike with her daddy. I have a bat mitzvah to go to. I am not staying inside, cowering from fear!

So I will tell lies how we are in the safest place in the world right now because there is so much security waiting just in case. I will not be afraid.

taking up taekwondo

http://img14.deviantart.net/7921/i/2014/203/b/e/
taekwondo_girl_by_kainaturally-d7rruym.jpg

I always considered myself to be more of a yoga person, in need of relaxation, deep breathing, stress relief, but lately I have been realizing that I need to be strong. I wanted physical expenditure of energy, a good workout, a confidence builder. So I decided to take up taekwondo together with the boys.

I have been going for the past two weeks, taking the same mid-morning class that the boys are attending. When the boys started, the standard talk was: "From now on, it's "Yes, sir!" Is that clear?" When I signed up, I was told that Motrin and hot baths will be my best friend. The instructor was not kidding: my muscles are sore. What looks so easy for the boys is a challenge to me. All those moves, kicks and blocks that I saw them do take a lot of strength.

On Thursday, I was placed into no-touch sparring for the first time: three kicks from me, three from the opponent. My opponent, a higher belt, after watching me sort of lift my legs: "Do you know any other kicks?" It felt weird kicking towards someone that I feel neutral about, almost impolite. But I mustered some strength and went on with the exercise.

As we were coming of class, 11 yo told me; "Mom you looked like you were flying during sparring!" I scanned his face for traces of irony. Was he making fun of me? Was he referring to the time when the drill was shuffle-step across the dojang and I tripped over my own feet and fell?

"Clumsy"
"Uncoordinated"

My mother's voice follows me. I was born a preemie, back when they did not do much for preemies, did not expect much. She was told to expect difficulties coordinating movements. She made sure that I knew my limits.

A flashback to my grad school. I am working on fruit flies. I am injecting fruit fly eggs with DNA. It is a super-precise and delicate work. I am able to do it. I am clearly coordinated enough.

In my son's eyes, I am flying there on the mat, in the dojang, a fearless mommy sparring alongside. In a few years he might not be so kind towards me.

In "All Joy and No Fun" Jennifer Senior writes:

The most productive, generative adults see their children as their superegos. Their kids hover over them and guide all of their moral choices. If these adults falter of behave ignobly, they know their kids will see; the same is true if they do well. They are exquisitely aware of themselves as role models.They know they are being watched.

This isn't how everyone thinks. Roughly one hundred years ago, Freud observed that many people spend their time reenacting the dramas of their pasts, seeking the approval of ghosts. They think of their parents as their superegos, the imaginary judges they've constantly got to please. But this is not true of the adults who are most concerned about leaving a lasting legacy. In their eyes, "the evaluator shouldn't be the past generation," says (researcher) McAdams. "It should be the next." They are freed up to invent their own lives, knowing that won't be governed by the norms of a previous generation. They want their children to be their final judges.

I need new vocabulary for a mommy who is taking taekwondo.

"Strong"
"Powerful"
"Fearless"
"Persistent"
"Flying"

And, a nod to Brene Brown,

"Badass"

"Rising Strong"

For a while, my newsfeed was divided between the people who talk to their socks and those who want to live wholeheartedly. (Perhaps if I have a wholehearted talk with my socks, they will find their matches and stay that way?) I was intrigued by "Daring Greatly" and put it on hold at the library. To my amazement, it came in pretty quickly, and just around the time that my baby was born. I thought all the nursing time would translate into reading time, but the calculation is different when there are four other kids and mommy is suddenly spending plenty of time on the couch. Also, "Daring Greatly" touched on a lot of deep conflicts and feelings, and did not make for a good discontinuous read. ("Where'd You Go, Bernadette?" was a perfect nursing read: so many places to stop and still be able to pick up the story). Being a popular book, I had to return "Daring Greatly" to the library before I even seriously got into it, but I made a mental bookmark to revisit it under different circumstances.

Lo and behold, "Rising Strong" came out, causing a new stir of conversation. Brene Brown seemed to be interviewed everywhere, and the idea of grit, persistence, and coping with failure seems so essential to healthy functioning. It is hard to learn if you can't cope with disappointment. It is hard to recoup, if you can't learn from failure. So once again, when I was in the library, I found myself putting a hold on a popular book.

It also arrived pretty quickly, and I knew that I have to retrieve it before it goes back in the system. Only this time I was shocked to find that I apparently put an audiobook on hold. I quickly flipped through: nine disks, hours and hours of listening The confusion of the moment almost lead me to leave the CDs in the library.

I hate listening to lectures. I am not an auditory learner, and I do not process info that way. I hate trying to pick out one voice to focus on from all the background noise. Today it would be called auditory processing disorder, but I just call it "avoidance of sound". I have a hard time carrying a conversation in a crowd. I listen to music only if I can put it as a background noise, not as something that I have to actively focus on.

Would I dare listen to a book on tape, all nine CDs? When would I find the time? Would I be able to gain anything? Is it a waste? I was making a call whether I would rise to an occasion, or whether I would admit defeat, say that this is not for me, that I am beat.

I decided to take it out, pop it into car's stereo, and hope to cobble enough time to listen to this book. I do drive afternoon carpool every day, and that is good twenty minutes alone. I can also rope the boys into listening with me, they need to learn how to get up after a failure just as much as I do.

I am on the second CD. The author is driving me nuts. She keeps listing points, and then going off on tangents. I cannot keep mental track of her lists, some of which contain seven or eight points. She keeps talking about herself, and her research, and how everything is so enlightening and important. I am lost in the forest of her words. Yes, she repeatedly brings up points which resonate with deep emotions, yet her examples are so mild and non-specific, that I keep on focusing on how inconsequential they are. I keep alternating between feeling that she is a genius, or a self-indulgent repetitive whiner.

Maybe I would process the book better if I could read it instead of constantly being subjected to the personal auditory hell. Maybe I am not emotionally ready to process these important ideas. Maybe the emperor has no clothes, and there is no step-by-step guide to getting up after a setback. We just have to decide to keep on going.

growth and teshuva (repentance)

It is a good thing that my husband is my memory keeper. I was exasperated, complaining how 9 yo will never get fluency in reading Hebrew, and he reminded me how I worried and complained about him not knowing any English letters back when he was 5. "He will never read," I said. Then one day it clicked, and now he's a proficient reader.

That got me thinking. We know that he has anxiety. There might be a writing disorder. There might be dyslexia, or some sort of other learning difficulty. There are quantifiable and visible issues. The medication, both traditional and alternative, has cropped up. We have tried therapy, and we have talked about looking into more therapy. When you are a desperate parent, it is so easy to start grasping at any story of a child with a similar difficulty following XYZ plan and getting results. We want results now. We want change now. Moreover, we want a very certain prescription for change, something that we can follow and elicit change.

But that is not how things work.

9 yo still has hard time writing, but he is capable of doing it. 9 yo still has hard time reading Hebrew, but he has slowly built up stamina to try and read accurately. He can read many פסוקים in a sitting now, and he can translate and pick out שרשים. Also, he is at the point where he has interest in board games, competitive games. The same child who would not even try a game before for the fear of losing is now happily engrossed in Sorry, Monopoly and Parcheesi, all well-known for the competitive edge. He loses graciously, even despite his older brother egging him on.

His tantrums, while still occurring over seemingly trivial things, are much smaller. In fact, he came to the realization that he should work on not throwing fits. One of his self-discovered cures is playing the violin. Violin is not easy to play, and he is a beginner, which means, putting it mildly, he is not very good at it yet. Playing the violin and not getting the right sounds is very frustrating to him. I was anticipating this frustration, and got the rental insured, just in case here will be some throwing. Yet, 9 yo discovered that it is a calming activity.

I wish that I could point to a magic pill, and tell everyone else what the secret to these changes is, but, I'm afraid, it is just giving it time. With this extra time comes extra maturity and introspection. All of this makes me wonder whether in our desire to change our difficult children we jump the gun, counsel, treat and medicate instead of just waiting things out. Maybe what ends up working in the end is not the latest cure, but the simple gift of time.

The time between Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur is known as עשרת ימי תשובה, ten days of repentance. Reading over Rambam's description of תשובה גמורה (complete repentance), one is struck with the complete transformation of a person, up to the point that one is called by a different name, because it is not the same person who did those sins. Yet, any aspect of תשובה that I have worked on was incremental. Change is slow, change takes time, change takes slip-ups and sliding back. Change appears instantaneous to the outside observer, yet, in the thick of it, change is often barely perceptible. Change is often a different thought pattern, Change is biting your tongue instead of saying something. Change is measured in these small steps, and often, one is not certain whether these steps are in the right direction.

Part of my תשובה is to be more patient with my kids, to give them the gift of time, and to allow them to change, mature and learn slowly.

First few weeks

5 yo and 2 yo have been going to their school. 5 yo loves it. She is happy to go and happy to come home. She talks about her projects, about reading, about making chains for skip-counting. She sings songs about Rosh HaShana. She talks about the new friends that she made. Overall, she is a happy child, having the time of her life.

I keep thinking  how school is meant for girls, rewarding and encouraging their behavior patterns of socialization, listening, and group activities.

2 yo is having harder time adjusting to having his nap time messed up. He is excited to go, but he is a mess in the afternoon when I pick him up. I get lots of pictures from the school and he is happy in them, participating in activities, sitting down, paying attention, crafting. Yet I do feel quite a few pangs of regret about sending out a child so young.

The boys are continuing with taekwondo three mornings a week. On Wednesday mornings we participate in the coop classes. Both boys are taking engineering and Minecraft History of Weapons. Unfortunately, these activities eat quite a bit of morning time. By 2 pm I have to leave to pick up the younger ones, so there is a lot of pressure to finish schoolwork before I go
. The baby is hanging out with us. Due to all the shuttling back and forth, she does not end up napping in her crib in the mornings. She is not a good sleeper and she is not easy to put down.

We are all adjusting.

I have finally finished reviewing בשלח with 11 yo. We have started on יתרו and, for once, he is excited to get to the "juicy stuff". I am trying to get out of the way and not kill his enthusiasm with too many Rashis. We have also been going over ספר יונה. So far we covered two פרקים. Please G-d that this year we actually get to finish it. Additionally, we have been slowly making our way through הלכות תשובה. I thought I have learned them all at some point or other, but, as I am reading them over, I am stunned by how much I do not remember. A while ago someone posted Beta Midrash app. I downloaded it and that is the text that we are using. It is nice, since there is an option to have Hebrew and English side-by-side, or just one of the languages. I can also make the font larger, Finally, all the citations are linked to the text. Moreover, 11 yo seems to enjoy the technological aspect of learning, As for me, this is quite a serious preparation. I am shaken by how much I am doing wrong, and 11 yo is getting the message, too. Sometimes I wonder whether this is too much, too soon, Yet I know that we will stop by יום כיפור, somewhere in the third פרק. This year, it is more of a taste than an in-depth study.

For math I checked out Khan Academy, but I was too nervous so I got Math Mammoth. 11 yo finished his first unit which was mostly review. Next unit has to do with equations, and I will need to sit with him, to make sure that he is not lost. So I let him loose on Khan Academy, hoping that he will either get ahead, or will get to review more of the material that he is not solid in.

We are continuing with Rosetta Stone, and I am hoping to read more of the picture Hebrew books with him.

With 9 yo, it has been touch and go. I dropped חומש for now and we are doing a lot of pages from the reading primer. I am hoping to build up his fluency and accuracy. There is still a slight possibility of dyslexia hanging over. It will not be picked up easily, as he reads fluently in English, but in Hebrew we've got problems. 9 yo is still better at reading Rashi script that regular Hebrew and I wonder whether I taught him and pushed him to read too soon.

We have been reading יונה from Artscroll children's edition. There is a lot of explanation and midrash in there, but it gives him welcome breaks between each פסוק. I have not been asking him to translate, just to focus on reading Hebrew text with corresponding English.

For math, 9 yo is going over Math Mammoth. He seemed fine with it until his brother started doing Khan Academy; now he wants to do that instead. He got to play around with it a while back, but he did not want to explore areas which were unfamiliar or difficult.

For science I am planning on using a standard 4th grade textbook with our usual mix of eclectic learning thrown in. We hanged a hummingbird feeder right outside the kitchen window and the kids have been watching the tiny visitors. There were many questions ( most from 5 yo), so i asked 9 yo to make a poster about hummingbirds by doing some research online. He threw a fit: "I am not good at science and you know it!" I understood that he simply did not know where to start. I asked him to bring me 5 index cards and told him that each card will be for a question. He sulked. I asked him whether there was something about hummingbirds that he wanted to know. He said, no. I gave him a few examples and wrote them down, leaving the last index card for him question. He finally admitted that he wanted to know how fast the hummingbird's heart beats. Then he went to Google the info, A minute later he excitedly came back, spewing numbers. Apparently, it beats anywhere between 60 and 1260 beats per minute. We have hummingbirds that live here year-round, but other species spend the winter in our state. Hummingbird eggs are the size of black-eyed peas. Many hummingbirds return to the same feeder year after year, so we have to keep ours up. The baby hummingbirds come potty-trained: they "do their business" over the side of the nest. Parents feed their babies a mixture of nectar and fruit flies, so it is a good thing that we resurrected the compost pile ( to which 9 yo dutifully takes out compost every day). Finally, hummingbirds are pushed out of the nest as soon as they are able to fly. This fact made 9 yo sad. He actually came back to me in the morning and told me again how sad he is for baby hummingbirds. I asked him, why he thinks parents do that. He said, so that they can grow up and be independent and live their own life. Somehow, this thought cheered him up.

So are we, as parents, pushing our kids out of the nest so that they can get a chance to live a life and to fly.

kids in the kitchen

apples in honey

I got ambitious tonight ( the younger two were asleep) and started on sunken apple tart from Kosher by Design. No sooner had I sauteed apples in honey and inhaled their heavenly aroma, and the baby woke up. 11 yo picked her up while 9 yo walked into the kitchen, wondering whether he can help.

dry ingredients

I asked the boys whether they want to take over. And take over they did. They made the rest of the tart, while I sat on the couch and nursed. They hunted down the lemon zester, measured and mixed. I was not consulted, but, by now, we have baked enough that they knew their way around the kitchen.

wet ingredients

Of course, there is a risk that something was not done right, and the tart will not come out. However, as I sat nursing, I truly relaxed. I have no ego in this, just pride that my kids can help and can tackle even a pretty elaborate recipe.

a bit of sampling

and a bit of goofing off

cinnamon sugar topping

Every day

Every day I spend hours rocking the baby to sleep, long past the time that the rest of the kids fell asleep, long past the time that makes an acceptable bedtime. 

Every morning I wake the same baby during her morning sleep to drive the rest of the kids to their destinations.


Every afternoon, I scream like a banshee because the house is a disaster, I'm covered in spit up, the dinner is not ready, or not cleaned up, and somebody still has schoolwork and the temerity to ask about watching TV. 


Every day I get a forward with amusing something or other from one of the grandmas. 


Every day my mother calls, asking me to call when I can. 


Every day I wonder whether my husband will be home for dinner or bedtime, whether he will bother to tell me.


Every day my son asks why I yell so much.


Every day whatever gets started does not get finished. 


Every day I'm solving yesterday's dilemmas, cleaning up yesterday's mess, checking yesterday's schoolwork. 


Every day I yearn for connection beyond superficiality, but I have no time and energy for one. 

Every day feels like an escalator from which I cannot get off.