baseless hatred

We are currently in the period of time known as "three weeks" or "between the straits". This is the time of mourning between two fasts, the 17th of Tamuz and the 9th of Av. On the 9th of Av, both of the Batei Mikdash were destroyed and countless multitudes of Jews were murdered, enslaved and exiled. Traditionally, G-d's punishments follow the pattern of mida keneged mida, or measure for measure. As long as the sin for which we are exiled is not rectified, it is still necessary to remove us from the land of our forefathers and the Third Beit haMikdash is withheld from us.

The reason for this second prolonged exile is sinat chinam, baseless hatred. As a nation, as a whole, we must still be exhibiting this to the degree that prevents us from going back.

Over the years, I wondered about this: do we really hate each other so much? Do we hate people for no reason? I understand that one can hear slander about others and form false opinions. But would you despise your fellow Jew without knowing anything about him?

I had a painful reality call yesterday. I shared the following picture on FB (it's been making rounds):

The sign says: secular, religious, ultra-religious (Jews) are one nation. I thought it was beautiful, especially held by a guy who obviously can belong only to one of those groups. I have been promptly informed that this sign is part of a rally to get orthodox people to serve in the Israel Defense Force (army), who do not serve otherwise. I was a bit confused by that: I have plenty of friends who either did serve, whose husbands serve, or who volunteered to serve. And all these friends are orthodox, practicing Jews. As my friends were waking up in Israel, person by person, they stated as much. The whole conversation was weird, as, on one hand, they were called not orthodox, and, on the other hand, they could not be serving.

I said that if we move to Israel, my two orthodox boys would most definitely serve in the army and work, not even a question. I was told that my kids are not orthodox....

I thought about all of this for a while. I realized that what I brushed against was not a call for unity--let all nation share the joint burden of army service, but against baseless hatred based on false assumptions. The assumption went something like this: if you are calling yourself orthodox, then you must sit in kollel, mooch off the government, avoid serving in the army, have many kids so you can mooch off the government some more, pay no taxes... I am sure that there are people like this. I am sure there are plenty of people like this. I am sure there are many loud-mouthed people like this who like it and want everyone else to like it, too.

But I also know that there are many people who are NOT like this. I know that I bristle every time I have to define myself: I am Jewish, I am Russian, but not really, I am from Moldova, but that is not my defining characteristic, I am a baalat teshuva, but I do not need beginner's minyan, I am orthodox, but not yeshivish, or modern or machmir or whatever else. ( I am so glad that I do not have to fill lout those inane shidduch website forms!)

I wonder how people in Israel would call themselves Charedi ( ultra-orthodox), but do not think like Charedi. How many are secular but deeply traditional. How many are religious, with mystical streaks? One of the things I saw and liked about Israel is that there seemed to be a continuum of observance instead of discrete groups like in America. Is that just an illusion?

I have a feeling when we start hating each other less than others hate us, we will be redeemed.

If you would like to hear what some Charedim have to say about status quo, click here.

Mommy, I want to be in school.

Ooh, the homeschooler's parent worst nightmare: what to do when your child asks to go to school?

That was the statement that my 6 yo made this morning.

Initial sinking feeling: I am failing him. Something is off, and I am doing a bad job. Why would he choose school over being at home? Is our life that boring and horrible that he much rather join the ranks of school children?

Fortunately, he made this statement when we were all sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast. My husband immediately asked him WHY does he want to go to school? 8 yo tried piping up with HIS reasons, but we asked him to let his brother speak. The funny part was, he did not have a reason. Then we asked him what he thinks kids do in school. Last time he was in school setting was when he was 3. He said, they do work and sit in their seats. My husband reminded him that there is also homework. His brother started talking school up, how they had red day and ate licorice or blue day and they could wear blue. I reminded him about uniform and not being able to pick what to wear. 8 yo also said that you have to listen to what the teacher says and do your work. I said that you cannot stop when you are done, you have to do work till the teacher says you are done. He asked about field trips. I said, they do field trips, but he would miss out on our trips. I also told him that sign-up for homeschooling classes is this week, so I need to know whether to sign him up or not.

We left it at this.

Of course, I am nervous. The possibility of going back to school routine is terrifying to me. I hated carpool, I hated homework, I hated not being able to do activities that my kids would rather do all for the sake of being well-rested for school. I also think we would brush against his behavioral issues, which I have a handle on now and which, frankly, have not been so bad lately. They were the original reason why I did not send him anywhere at 4, or 5.

I also realize that most likely this request has to do with not knowing what to expect. He has no idea what school is like, only that some of his friends go to school. He hears about recess and zipline and lunches. He might also have some kind of secret idea that, in his mind, happens only in school. Growing up, I remember looking at school kids in uniforms, looking all formal and grown-up and thinking that school makes you smart. One school song even went: " Here is a teacher entering a classroom, he will teach us everything". For a kid  like me, eager to learn, that sounded like a marvelous proposition. Imagine learning everything! The reality, of course, included teacher who taught strictly to state curriculum and I can say that I remember boredom, but not actual content of what was taught. Contemporary American schools are certainly more jazzed up than those Russian schools. Now teachers sing and dance and bend over backwards, but, at the end of day, school is school, and a class of twenty boys still needs to be kept in line and reports need to be filed and worksheets filled out and teacher's performance evaluated and tests given. Somehow, all of this stands for education.

I will watch for more school requests. I am calmer about it now. I wish I could make a deal with the school for him to try it out for a week or a month, so he would see for himself what it's like, and he would have less yearning for that unknown.

Pinchas, or Moshe had a little lamb

I meant to post this on Friday, but better late than never.

For the past week's parsha, Pinchas, I decided to use advanced learning approach, along the lines of talking about the parsha the whole week rather than cramming it in on Friday. It is summer, and we're not doing any formal schoolwork anyway. So, we read the parsha summary from Parsha of the Week, teased out midrashim. I also told boys that there are korbanot at the end, abbreviated as baa, and we'll talk about them later. Later was on Friday. I got an idea of printing out sheets of lambs, goats, bulls and rams and then asking boys to cut out and glue the correct number of animals for each day and holiday. I told them about tamid first, a continual daily offering of two lambs.I explained how they were completely burned up, and one was brought in the morning and the other in the afternoon. I also asked them to guess what do we do now to replace those lambs. With some prodding, they guessed shacharit and mincha.

Then we did shabbos. We added two more lambs to tamid. I showed in the siddur where we add in mussaf the mention of this korban. Then we did rosh chodesh. This got interesting, with bulls and rams and goats and more lambs. I explained again how tamid was brought daily. 8 yo asked what happens when it's shabbos rosh chodesh. We looked at our diagrams and figured out how many were brought. At this point, 6 yo split to play with his sister. Next we did Pesach. I ran out of preprinted lambs. After we did one day, I asked how many animals were brought over the course of entire Pesach. We got some multiplication in this way.

We did the rest of the chagim, saving Succot for the end. I knew those 13 bulls and 14 lambs will be curveball. I printed and printed more animals. 8 yo asked how all of these fit on the mizbeach, if they had to be fully burned. I didn't know. (He asked a rabbi in shul on Shabbos, and he didn't know either! Do you?) I thought about how I feel about printing and printing, and he feels about cutting and cutting. It took us hours. I thought that the reason patriarchs were shepherds was so that Jews knew exactly what it's like to raise so many animals and they could appreciate the real sacrifice in letting them "go" as an offering.

I know that there are many other exciting topics in the parsha: the speared couple! Division of the land! Daughters of Tzlofchad! Yehoshua taking over! But I thought how there will be another year and another topic will be covered. In the meanwhile, I can choose which area of the parsha we will focus on and what kind of project/activity we will do. Oh sure, I saw charts listing all the korbanot, but they are just numbers, dry and running into each other. Actually seeing all this livestock being brought on any day really gives a sense of reality to what was going on and what we are missing now.

On Friday night, I started with parsha questions and was pleased that boys were eager to answer. They especially got animated whent eh time came to the charts, each talking over each other, explaining what korban was brought when. They also remembered the Hebrew names of all the animals.

July 12th

A few snippets of today:

• In davening, 6 yo added second part of baruch sheamar. One day, he just decided that he wanted to do it and he did it. He is complaining a lot about having to say birchot hashahar now, I am wondering whether he bit off more than he can chew. He is also reading all little blurbs in his siddur which explain different things about davening. I am seriously contemplating getting him a siddur with English translation, when time comes for his big kid siddur. I think he will get much more out of it than a plain, all-Hebrew one.

• I took all kids bike riding in the park. 6 yo worked on his bike and got the hang of it, without training wheels. He did not want to go originally, but he really practiced on his own and it worked! I had to teach him how to brake with his feet, either he forgot, or he was too scared not to be able to put his feet out. He loved the burnt rubber marks left on the pavement after his "good brakes". To celebrate, we went out to Menchie's.

• 8 yo practiced diving and 6 yo unassisted back stroke at the pool today. It is such a relief to see them both eager to swim and gaining so much. Of course, they are clamoring for even more swim time. I tried today watching all three in the deep pool, but it was too nerve-wrecking. 

• At home, 8 yo is rereading Story of the World, part 2. We also got a book about Rashi through Feldheim, called Rashi HaKadosh. I found it to be disappointing: it is poorly made, poorly written, has legends given over as history and looks like they took blurry stills from a movie and published it without proofreading. The boys found it to be fascinating. I discussed with 8 yo the treatment of crusades by SOTW and Rashi book, and how history can be told from different perspectives. All of this reading is being down without any input from me, I much rather be "off", but this kind of learning does not seem to take a vacation.

• 8 yo picked up a circular in Menchie's which had sudoku and a crossword. I found him later sitting down with a dictionary, working on it.

• For goodnight stories, the boys picked a book about time travel to the time of the Vikings and that Rashi book. 

Now onto a challenge:

It's called the cleaning issue. I clean up, and the place is a mess. I don't clean up, and the place is a disaster. I ask the kids to clean, I beg them, I scream at them, I cajole them... it works, for five minutes. And then it's back to square one. I feel like I want that remote control which freezes everything, so that I have 24 hours to put everything in its place. Another thing I feel is that we have too much stuff, coupled with many things not having an established home. I want to start the next school year in an organized fashion. I know that for me, a certain amount of order brings happiness. Not plastic slipcovers on untouchable couch, but being able to sit on that couch without displacing piles of stuff that accumulated there during the day. I am using this time to think things through, but I know it's mid-July and there is only so much of the summer left to implement and cement new routines.

lots of exercise

Today was bowling and swimming lessons. We are signed up for kids bowl free, a program which allows your kids bowl two games every day at a participating bowling center for free. You pay for the shoe rental, but the games are covered. This year, I got a parent pass add-on, so I can also bowl.

I decided on the spur of the moment to take them bowling. This time, it was bumpers all the way. Surprisingly,  2yo bowled the second highest score on our first game, with 4 spares! Way to go, girl! She was using that little contraption which allows balls to slide down the lane, but one of my sons was using that, too, and he did not have the same success rate. What I liked the most about bowling was the good-natured sportsmanship the boys were exhibiting, even though it was competitive: high-fiving each other on the spares, cheering on, wishing good luck. They were not as nice towards me... but that's because I was in the lead. The second game, however turned around. I scored one measly spare the whole game, while all the kids got at least one spare. 8 yo won that one.

Today was also the first day of swimming lessons. We took them last year, but, for some reason, they placed the boys together and that was the undoing of 6 yo, he refused to swim, was scared to lie down on his back, and spent a few sessions kicking and screaming on the sidelines. This year, i made sure they were in different groups, as they should, since they have different skill levels. It was also 8 yo secret dream to be able to make a swim team. The boys were excited to get into their swimming suits, but even more so for their new Costco goggles. I got a 3-pack and they spent weeks obsessing over who will get which pair. When I opened it up, it turned out that one pair was too big, so they made do with the other two.

They boys joined their groups and I observed 6 yo enthusiastically jump right in, ask for extra practice turns and be in good spirits in general. 8 yo worked on the kickboard. I sat in the baby pool with 2 yo, who wandered around. I will try to remember to bring some water toys next time, which is tomorrow.

I was also surprised to see that whole families were coming in, both parents with the kids. This was 4:15, still standard work day. I kept thinking to myself, what kind of work/schedule do they have that they have the luxury to attend kids' swim lessons together? I am so used to doing everything alone.

When the lesson was over and I successfully extracted all three kids from the pool and got them home, there was the laundry dilemma: do I wash the bathing suits and towels? Hang them to dry? DO I wash the   kids? rinse them? Use shampoo? I have two weeks of everyday lessons and I need to work out  a plan to keep my sanity.

What do you do?

17th of Tammuz

This morning, after having spent a Shabbos at home (finally!). the kids are getting back in the groove. I sent everyone to shower this morning and the boys got dressed before breakfast, which produce unexpected results: when my husband got up to go to shul and asked boys whether they would like to come with him, both of them decided to go. He asked them before, but they have not been taking him up on his offer.

When they got back, an hour and a half later, 8 yo glowingly told me he said the whole Shemone Esre and he read Shmuel Aleph through tenth perek. My husband could not corroborate, but I like that they went and davened and learned.

After their breakfast, they wanted to watch TV. I said they could watch after we talk a bit about today's fast. That did not go over so well. They went outside to water the plants, hung out a bit, but then decided that they would like to learn and then to watch. I pulled our Kitov's The Book of Our Heritage, as I know he quotes the Mishna listing 5 calamities of the day. I am giving myself a pat on the back for finding the right Mishnah, as Kitov has it listed incorrectly, and I guessed that Taanit is in Moed. I never studied Mishna formally, so I am groping here, too. I asked 8 yo to read the text, just the first part. 6 yo stayed on the floor, playing with 2 yo. About halfway through, 8yo said he does not want to read any more, it is making him too sad. I felt a bit stuck; I was not sure whether this is his sensitivity kicking in, or desire to finish an unpleasant task. I decided to push through a bit, helping him translate. I also explained the concept that I picked up from a shiur yesterday, how the disasters of 17th of Tammuz are reversible with Teshuva, and are not finalized. I thought we would finish on a high note of how these things could be undone, but 8 yo sulked and closed his ears and said that this is all making him sad and he does not want to hear any more. I basically got 6 yo to say how the golden calf was undone through teshuva and 13 attributes of mercy and how Hashem gives us an opening for repentance and even the right words.

I also stressed how fasting is secondary, but his feeling of the horribleness of this day is more important. I gave an example of how many FB statuses this morning had to do with people complaining of being hungry and not focusing on the reason they were fasting. By the way, we do not give out desserts or treats on fast days to kids.

I am not so sure whether my message was received. I know that a lot of what I think falls on deaf ears does get compartmentalized somewhere, so I am hoping that it was not just learning to get to TV watching. I will see how things go on Tisha B'Av. I am looking for meaningful, kid-oriented activities. I am thinking they might be old enough to watch Paperclips and who knows? Tennessee is only a state away and maybe that will be another filedtrip.

on having a voice

For those who are wondering, we have not dropped off the face of the Earth, but went to visit my mother and grandmother in Toronto. By "we", I mean my three kids and I. There were many reasons for this trip: to visit, vacation, my grandmother's 94th birthday, my sister coming over with a guy to whom she got engaged... Mazal Tov!

One of the things I did not anticipate happening is losing my voice while being here.  By now, I am used to regular blogging and communicating as I am: a wife, a mother, a homeschooler, a teacher, a member of the community. Being with my family somehow sapped that. I wonder whether it had to do with communicating as a daughter, sister, another helping hand arranging things behind the scenes...

Oh, there was a lot going on on this trip. There were a lot of emotions, and a lot to write about. There is a lot to process. There is an offhand comment made by  8 yo which will cause me to reevaluate the way I homeschool. But, somehow, I do not feel like I have a voice to blog with.

I wonder whether it happens to all of us: we go and hang out with our parents and siblings and, suddenly, the well-established roles take over: the oldest, the youngest, the overfunctioner, the baby, the strong one, the weak one, the decision-maker. All the years of our adult life, all the roles that we spent time establishing and crafting go out the window. I also wonder whether some people are able to transcend these roles and bring to the table their adult selves. I also wonder whether separation from immediate family is crucial to finding that internal voice and whether adults living at home never get a chance to form their own voice, independent of the family dynamic.

I might need to back up a bit and explain that I left home at the age of 13, when I moved half-way across the world, from Moldova (look it up!) to Richmond, VA, to go to highschool. This was in the days before internet, before e-mail, and before Skype. This was in the days when airmail took 2 weeks, if the letter did not get lost, and long-distance rates were so prohibitive, that I spoke to my parents twice a month for 5 minutes each. In short, I was on my own, crafting my own voice, without constant looking back over my shoulder to see what my parents would say. That's why I have very little pity on college-age kids bringing home laundry on the weekends and texting mom between classes.

But right now, being home, is being thrown back to being 13, voiceless and assuming whichever functions I always assumed. While it is comforting to be taken care of, it is unsettling to be pushed into the same box I always occupied.

I want my voice back!