Dr Savta’s web log

We spent the day in Philadelphia with my sister after a brief skype visit with the family in the morning…

One of the places we went was Border’s where the selection of English language books was nothing less than spectacular!

But by far, the best part of the day was meeting our grandson for the first time. This fabulous child is ours by marriage (his father married my daughter) and although I had imagined he would be a nice child, I could never have pictured him as bright and clever and friendly and charming as he is. And now, since he calls me savta, I officially count him among my grandchildren.

Here we are together

We are excited that he will be visiting Israel in August and that we will get to spend more time with him then.

As Sandy (comment on last posting) has pointed out, this is not my first noteworthy experience with chickenpox. In 1978 as I was giving birth to my baby in Wiesbaden, Germany, my oldest son was on a school trip to Strasbourg, France breaking out in chickenpox. This was 2 days before Passover (the baby was born Wednesday evening and Friday evening was the first seder.)

The baby and I returned home on Friday morning to a home filled with 4 very excited children, one of whom was very pocked. That evening, as my husband conducted the community seder at the Hainerberg Chapel, I conducted a very fast seder for my oldest son, my youngest son (six years old) and my nursing baby.

About two to three weeks later, roughly corresponding to the end of a visit from my parents (not always a tension-free time), the other 3 older children all broke out in chickenpox. But wait, there’s more… The weather in Wiesbaden was, as usual, cold and rainy– so cold and rainy that for the entire duration of the children’s chickenpox (17 years– or so it felt) none of them were able to go outside to play or just get some fresh air. So there we sat, three itchy, bored children (whose only recreation was fighting with each other), my only colicky baby (and the only one I nursed), and one very tired mom (me.)

When finally I could take no more, I sent the children back to school. I got a call from the school nurse telling me that they were not yet ready to come back to school. I told her that if they couldn’t go back to school tomorrow, I would need someone from child protective services over to my house. She told me that tomorrow they would be ready.

The baby didn’t get chickenpox– or at least not that I ever could tell. However, when she was 3 she developed a case of shingles that was so unusual that she was photographed for a medical journal.

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Quoting http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000858.htm
Herpes zoster, or shingles, is caused by the same virus that causes chickenpox. After an episode of chickenpox, the virus becomes dormant in the body. Herpes zoster occurs as a result of the virus re-emerging after many years.

The cause of the re-activation is usually unknown, but seems to be linked to aging, stress, or an impaired immune system. Often only one attack occurs, without recurrence.
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Many years??? Since we know that her immune system was fine- was it caused by aging? stress? (”oh that too too tough sandbox toy; how much sand will fit in it?”)

and that is the whole story. I swear by Kinneret’s pocks.

It’s been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon…. oh wait… that’s not my story to tell…

It’s been a busy week here. It all started about 9 years ago when I hired a highly recommended gardener to design our garden. When he finished, it was spectacular. It was only a few months later that I heard that ficus trees are noteworthy for sending out roots to enter one’s plumbing system. But the three he had planted (one very close to the house) were attractive and flourishing, and so we did nothing.

Once or twice, our pipes had to be cleaned and the sewer cleaned out to remove roots. However on Passover this year, we had a complete blockage of our plumbing in our master bathroom. It took three plumbers (or 4, if you count the one who went running away in fear) to get things working again (they fixed the toilet and then the shower didn’t drain properly- they fixed the shower and the floor drain rose…) so we decided to get a contractor to get the roots out of the system, see where the blockage was, and replace/reposition pipes. As the work proceeded, more and more of our patio needed to be dug up and then some of the Jerusalem stone at the front of the house had to be removed. The pipes, it turns out, were not joined properly and were placed at odd angles that didn’t help the flow…

Of course, while still in the middle of this, we decided to pull out the guilty tree which aside from shading our bedroom, shaded the front of the building and our patio and took up a good deal of the front garden. So we called a tree remover since the tree had grown well past the second story and was very full and lush. In just a few minutes, we had a lot of beautiful branches spread over the sidewalk.

So now the front of the house is not only bare, but it has a gaping wound (where they are fixing the pipes) and to say I feel somewhat exposed woud be an understatement.

And finally, the Dell laptop with the fabulous celeron processor finally got on my last nerve (among other cute baby tricks, every once in a while it decides that there is no internet connection over our LAN when the other two computers are just charging along with no trouble. Usually it takes at least three cold boots to get it back.) So yesterday we went and got a new laptop. Fortunately with the assistance of one of my fabulous genius sons-in-law (of which I am blessed with exactly 2), I was able to set it up with relatively little sweat (although I am a strange type of technophobe.) Now I just need to figure out how to prepare my travelogues for our trip to the States…

And speaking of trips… my husband (no, I am NOT implying that he is a trip) came up with an idea that I was wary of for the trips we lead. Kosher bread is not easy to get in some of the locations we visit and so he went trawling the internet and came up with an idea of making “beer bread” which looked easy to make because it had almost no ingredients, required no time to rise, and could be made in one bowl. I told him that I thought it complicated things, but this morning he baked two loaves and to tell the truth, it tasted pretty good.

How do I tie together a sewer, a tree, a computer, and beer bread? Only via non sequitur: Tomorrow I will be babysitting Princess Kinneret Kangaroo who has the chickenpox. It was a busy week.

There are times in people’s lives when they feel compelled to make a decision that in some way will lead them to variate from the norm. Some times these are decisions that come about because a person feels that he/she has principles or standards that are important to him/her. He or she may demonstrate for a cause, go on a march, distribute circulars, or wear clothing or buttons that indicate his/her support of an issue. Sometimes he/she will be restrained or arrested by police and yet the price seems worth it if the point is made. Assuming that the principle the person is fighting for is important, his/her stepping away from the norm is an educational experience for their children, showing them that the parent is willing to sacrifice for the sake of something important. Such an example would be the people who demonstrated against the expulsion of the Jewish population from Gush Katif. Although their parent may have chosen a path that led to suffering and inconvenience, the children knew what the parents’ values were and they saw them hold onto those values despite hardships.

Sometimes people step out of the norms of society for other reasons. Some such reasons are personal pleasure (like some elected officials who were caught frequenting places they shouldn’t have been), compulsion (like buying, using, and selling drugs), and obsessions taken to their logical conclusions (I hesitate to give an example but hopefully you will supply your own).

I believe that as human beings we have choices and we choose the behaviors we engage in. Pleasure can be had many ways. Of course we can spend pleasant time with our families. In an affluent society we have leisure time to take walks in nature, to people-watch, to sit and talk with a friend, to engage in sports, to see a play or a concert or a film, to draw, to take photographs, to join a dance class or a choir. The possibilities of healthy pleasurable pursuits are limitless.

When people have compulsive behaviors like using or drugs or alcohol that are or lead to illegal activities, there is help available. Often people need outside help to overcome their compulsive behaviors, but it is available. Large supportive communities exist to nurture people with these problems. Having the problem does not excuse one of responsibility for one’s actions.

In terms of obsessions, the individual is also responsible for his/her behavior. When I was a child my mother used to talk about people who claimed certain types of disabilities or patterns of behavior as having an “eingereteh zach” which I understood to be an issue that they convinced themselves into.

All of us have experienced inner dialogues that go something like this:

“I would like some ice cream, It sure would taste good. I think that mint chocolate chip would be delicious. Yes, that’s what I need. I sure would like it now. I really can’t wait. Yes, I think I’m going out to get it now.”

Sooner or later, that type of thought process leads to a store and some ice cream. But alas, they have chocolate and chocolate chip and strawberry, but no mint chocolate chip. Think about it enough and the quest is on. Until the mint chocolate chip ice cream is found, purchased, and eaten, there will be no peace.

Now let’s look at this logically: Ice cream is darned good food, but we don’t *have* to have it. If we allow it to be a stray thought, we can let it go and go on with our lives. But if we focus on it, it becomes an obsession.

I think that is true of some of the lifestyle changes people make that separate themselves from mainstream society. It is something that ranks a stray thought, but if one is a parent, after a short amount of consideration, it needs to be let go. And here is why:

Children, as I have said more than once or twice before, are people under construction. They are building their foundation, figuring out what their lives are going to look like, how they will fit into the environment. When a parent deviates from the norm, in general, it is the children who will be the most strongly affected. They become caught between the norms of society and their loyalty to their parents. The negative feedback they get from friends, teachers, neighbors about their parent’s lifestyle is something they are not equipped to defend and something they feel uncomfortable sharing with their parent. Children protect their parents from negative things and therefore they carry the burden of the societal displeasure on their shoulders.

When we have children we need to think about our choices and about how they will affect our children. Sometimes that means sacrificing something that seems like it would be fun. Sometimes that means giving up on a fantasy.

Remember, our children are our responsibility. They need to feel loved and secure and protected. They need us to put them first.

Two postings today…. for a very special reason…

Hadas was accepted to IASA – Israel Arts and Science Academy!

(This is the same Hadas who is my oldest granddaughter and my travel partner to China this past summer)

I am so very proud to be related to her. Kol HaKavod, Hadas!!!!!

You can see some pictures of her here.

The setting:
A non-descript three-story building of Jerusalem stone facing a mountain that was planted with trees last summer and instead has as most of its vegetation ugly brown and green weeds, oh yes, and those sticks (some sporting leaves) that are suspended between other sticks that are holding them up.
The time:
Saturday night after the stars had come out and at a time when little children are usually snuggled in their beds.
The characters:
My oldest son and his friend and her daughter; my older daughter, her husband, and her 6 children ranging in age from 14 years to 6 weeks; my youngest son, his wife, and their 5 children, ranging in age from 10.5 to 1.5; my younger daughter, her husband and their 9 month old daughter; and our “adopted” children who made aliya last summer. If you were counting, you would have come up with approximately 12 adults and 13 children. Of those 13 children, 5 were 3 and under.
The room:
Imagine a room that can comfortably accommodate about 8 people sitting on sofas and chairs adjoining a room that can comfortably accommodate about 8 people sitting around a table and try to figure out how that space will accommodate 25 people eating. Yeah. Well, part of the preparations for Pesach included taking the living room furniture out to the glassed-in room behind the house, so we had a place for the little children to sleep and for moms to attend to their children.
Facts about grandchildren:
If there is any time of the year that they will get sick, it is that exact time when they are visiting your house. From nosebleeds to teething pain to earaches and general states of discomfort, our house seems to bring out the best in them.
The seder itself:
Well, like every other observant family, we too started our seder exceedingly late. This was after a day with 5 of the grandchildren staying with us and the stress of the logistics of the seder itself. Naturally, the children were tired and some of us adults were a bit stressed, but once the singing began and we heard the four questions and saw the smiling faces around the table, it actually was nice. I had lots of help serving and except for the under-done turkey (I think this was the largest turkey I ever attempted to cook) the food was pretty good. We decided that we need a wall-stretcher for next year or some other plan…
Special thanks:
To our son Ben for the beautiful story he told at the seder and the extremely delicious charoset.
To our daughter Rachel and her husband Ohad for the exquisite flower arrangement that looks as fresh today as it did when it was delivered and PERFECTLY matched the table settings.
To our son Akiva and his wife Nurit for the cool veggie chopper that I am certain my husband will cherish for as many years as the one he got in Wiesbaden before our younger daughter was born.
to our daughter Leah and her husband Yaakov for a Pesach food processor that made preparing for 25 people infinitely easier. I blessed them about a hundred times as I was making the kugels, the coleslaw etc.
To our wonderful guests who lent us their brute strength and object placement skills to help us move the furniture and who lent us the all important folding chairs.
and most of all to our brilliant, gorgeous, and delightful grandchildren who bring us no end of happiness. And a special thanks to Ayala whose questions kicked off all of the explanations.

Recently I have been thinking about the whole issue of children and how their parents deal with issues that are difficult. No one ever said that being a parent was easy, but when it comes to dealing with difficult issues, parents have two obligations to their children that often require exactly opposite behavior. As parents we need to protect our children. That means that we have to keep them away from things that might hurt or harm them. We do NOT allow our children the freedom to run into the street, ingest toxic substances, or use dangerous implements.

As parents, we also have an obligation to mediate events for our children. By that I mean that when children are exposed to new situations, we must prepare them the best we can so that they are not traumatized (for example if we are moving homes, we need to tell the child in advance so that he/she doesn’t one day wake up to see his/her room being packed up.) Since we mediate events and experiences both future ones and events that are taking place “in real time” for our children, they must be able to trust us. If we say, “when we go to the doctor today you are going to get an injection, but it won’t hurt,” then we are risking our children not being able ever to trust that when we say something won’t hurt, it won’t. We have to be honest with them. If we are not honest with them, then they will not rely on our take on reality and will instead choose others to mediate it for them. This kind of trust is very important. For example, if they see someone smoking and they trust their parent, then when the parent tells them that smoking can be harmful to one’s health, the child will accept that. Lying to children is with very few exceptions, a very bad choice.

But what does a parent do when those two obligations collide? What happens when telling the truth will hurt the child?

Sometimes it is not necessary to say anything. If, for example, a distant acquaintance of yours was killed in a car accident, it is probably not a wise idea to discuss it in front of a young child.

Sometimes it is not necessary to tell all of the truth. If someone the child knows well was killed in the auto accident, it is not advisable to describe the accident or the injury in detail. A simple explanation (”they car went off the road”; “the car was hit by another car”) is sufficient for the young child. Telling the truth does NOT mean telling all of the gory details.

When the event is something that directly affects the child, the parent needs to share the information to the extent the child is able to understand, carefully choosing words and choosing a time and place that allows for discussion, questions, and whatever emotional support that may be needed.

Sometimes it seems to me that parents tell their children too much too soon. Children’s brains are not just miniature adult brains. They actually work differently. They process information differently. They form images to remember information and sometimes those inaccurate images can stay with them and disturb them for a long time.

When sharing heavy, difficult things with your children make sure that you check to see if they understood what you told them. Have them tell you what they heard you say, but in different words so that you know that they haven’t misunderstood. Give them plenty of emotional support and don’t lie to them– but you don’t have to tell them everything.

It took me a long time to realize that the anticipation of all of the Pesach cleaning, arranging, purchasing, and cooking was ten times worse than the actual work involved. Some people even become psychiatrically ill. But, with a schedule in mind and a little pre-planning, I have been able to get through it tired, maybe (OK, exhausted, for sure) but generally with little anxiety. Here are some of my coping skills and I recognize that different folks are really different, so they may or may not work for others.

1. For staples, I hit the best stocked supermarkets/stores early. I have already been to the two most likely candidates and picked up items that I might be crushed getting in another few days. All of the non-perishables are sitting in my entry hall and the one bag of frozens (OK, gefilte fish, if you must know) is triple-wrapped in my freezer.

2. I then make a list of what I still need (excluding fruits, veggies, and meats, all of which come later) and go out and get them (maybe what I will be doing today. Who knows?)

3. I pre-clean the fridge. Meaning- I one by one take out all of the shelves, clean them throughly as well as all of the space around them on the walls of the fridge, and then put down newspaper to keep them from getting dirty in the interim.

4. Since I have a self-cleaning oven, I put it on about now and have it clean. I do that because I was traumatized my first year with this oven when it cleaned itself while simultaneously blowing a fuse which I only found out about as I slipped my turkey into the oven erev Pesach. What ensued was much gnashing of teeth and punching of small objects (ouch)…. or perhaps only a frantic call to a repair man. And yes, Virginia, there is a G-d: the repairman, Claude Anton, may he be blessed with a long life, not only came within minutes, but knew exactly what had happened, had the part in his vehicle, and replaced it for an insignificant sum of money. But I still don’t trust the oven and so I clean it a week ahead of time to prevent a potential melt-down on my part.

5. I buy a couple of meters of that very wide heavy patterned plastic material that is usually used for tablecloths. That will later be cut and taped to all of my counters.

6. The three most important cleaning accessories for Pesach are:

a. a good supply of plastic gloves (fortunately there are no pictures of my hands at sdarim in the past before this discovery, but they were tell-tale gray from silver polish and dry and cracking from other cleaning products). This is not a “nice to have;” this is a requirement.
b. A supply of wooden toothpicks. Nothing does better on crevice dirt than toothpicks. If you are a dirt Attila as I am around Pesach, a large number is recommended as they break under the pressure of my dainty little hands.
c. Razor blades. Sad to say, I can’t find the plain blades like they have in the US that slide into a holder. Here I usually end up using one of those box cutters and make it do all sorts of things it would never do if given the choice. I turn it in every different direction to scrape off all sorts of things. Sometimes something that is stuck on just needs a little bit of extra encouragement in order to choose to come off.

Cleaning products:

In addition to all of the usual, I have two that I cherish.

a. Cilit (or other equivalent)- It’s that stuff that removes mineral build-up from toilets, sinks, and any other place that water may sit. One shpritz of Cilit can save minutes of scrubbing.

b. Cold grease remover: A couple of years ago I sent my oldest granddaughter, Hadas (sometimes known as my Beijing traveling pal) to the store to get me some oven spray for the rack of the self-cleaning oven. She came back with a non-aerosol spray that was a remover of cold grease. Since it had a picture of an oven on it, I decided that she couldn’t have been that far off. I used it and it worked amazingly. I then tried it out on the bottom of one of my pots. I sprayed it on and waited for about 5 minutes and literally wiped the blackened, browned, ugly grease stains right off the bottom of the pot. One more reason to love the kid!

Since we will be having around 25 people for seder and at least 10 per meal for the previous shabbat and for lunch on the first day, we decided to do it all on disposable dishes– something I resisted for years, but this time the decision had to do with saving my daughters and daughter-in-law the unpleasantness of dishes- since they are always the ones who insist on helping. So, a few weeks ago I went and bought all of the disposables we will need for several years (or so it seems). Pretty much everything is white as are the tablecloths, but I bought beautiful table runners and napkins and I think it will look festive. Surely the beautiful faces around the table will make it perfect!

So here we are, about 10 days from Pesach and a lot already done. Next will be the making of the shopping lists for the meat (I have someone who delivers), the dairy products, and the vegetables.

A second post with further instructions is on its way… but I am off to buy the raisins and ketchup I forgot the last time….

This is a test post to see if my new blog settings are working correctly. This is a picture of my granddaughter, Kinneret Esther, eating a pyramid in memory of our ancestors who built the pyramids in Egypt.

When I was young, I used to think of what it would be like to grow old. It was hard for me to believe that I would ever get old. The years passed and although I had children, I didn’t feel as if I were growing older. As I entered my 40s, life was good and I was active and I didn’t feel old. When my children started getting married, it was OK. When the grandchildren started being born, it was wonderful. And as the years passed and I watched the little ones grow, I still felt young. At 50 I made aliya. I opened a whole new chapter in my life. Eventually we bought our house and we settled down to a stable life here in Israel. And it’s all been good.

But suddenly I am looking at the fact that I am getting older. I think I still have a lot of energy. I have decided to stop teaching and I do very little supervision and practically no therapy. I enjoyed it for many years. Now I look forward to the trips I take and even more to the trips I lead. Learning about new places– their history, their culture, their arts, their people is exciting and fascinating. Seeing the world through the eyes of a Chinese person or a Cambodian is wondrous. I get excited about the things I do.

But at the same time, harsh reality pokes me in the eye. My dear cousin, the one who spanned generations between mine and that of my parents, has died. And although I hadn’t seen him in years, we had begun writing to each other sporadically and I was looking forward to having him and his wife come and visit and asking him some of the questions about our family that I had never gotten to ask my mother. He was a good person. He had an infectious smile and a good sense of humor and a depth that was apparent when through all the turmoil of that family, he maintained his equanimity. He was always pleasant and friendly. I will miss him.

And that means that I am now the old one– and I am too young to do this. In my head, I am still in my 30s. Where did those years go?

Time is precious. We should never take it for granted and we should use it wisely.