Dr Savta’s web log

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.

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.

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.

I know it. I have said this before– probably a few times before. But who goes to look at what I said a year or two or three ago?

It’s about appreciation.

We all learn to appreciate good health just about the time that our noses are running and coughing has become an Olympic sport.

We appreciate good weather when it’s pouring rain and we have errands to do.

We appreciate home cooking whe we’ve eaten out and the spices were not to our liking.

We appreciate those we love when they are far away.

Appreciation is what most people want from their spouses and family members. We all like hearing “thank you” and “I love you” and “I’m happy to see you.” We all like knowing that others value us. And yet, it seems that many people forget to let those they love know how much they are appreciated.

My mother was the kind of person who had so many issues of her own that she could not appreciate the people who were closest to her. For her, famiy members were only worthwhile in that they were available to meet her needs. If we didn’t meet her needs, we were useless. Sometimes her need was to show off. “Look how pretty/smart my daughter is!” and then we would be appreciated for a moment. Shows of affection were only given on camp visiting day– a hug and a kiss. No, scratch that, a kiss and then some motion of her fingers on my face either trying to wipe a blemish away or flick off a loose eyelash. I was never OK. I always needed some fixing up. Praise? No. Not even when I accomplished something noteworthy.

Did I grow up OK? I think I made it through. I needed to do a lot in terms of “being my own mother”– transforming her negative messages to me into healthier messages about trying and working hard and accepting even second best after a serious effort.

But our kids shouldn’t have to just “make it through” nor should our marriage. Appreciation costs us very little. It means we have to open our eyes and see what is in front of us and to take note of the kindness, the goodness, the sweetness, the devotion of the people around us and to let them know that we appreciate them.

The family all made it here. And a fine bunch they were! Lots of fabulous costumes, excellent food gifts, and lots of fun.

I always worry that people will forget things that they brought. Today when I checked, it turned out pretty well. We had some extra mishlochei manot and one extra chumash– not bad.

But then the doorbell rang and there she was standing at the entrance to our apartment talking to me about someone she saw and not knowing who the person was and trying to have a conversation and not understanding… and I could barely understand her. She was confused and lost and I realized she was all alone with no one to take care of her. And finally, she wished me a happy Purim and then my neighbor went to her apartment…

And no, there were no forgotten children left here.

p.s. The computer ate my last posting… probably because I talked about excessive amounts of food… I’m sorry, computer. From now on I will leave out the food parts (yeah, like that’s gonna happen on a blog written by a Jewish grandmother)

Despite all of my worries about the sleeping arrangements for this past shabbat, it all worked out. Friends were kind enough to host two children and other friends hosted a couple and three of their children, leaving us with a mere 17 people sleeping at our house. Amazingly, everyone was able to sleep! The children finally quieted down at about 11:30 p.m. and we didn’t hear from them again until after 7 a.m.

Friday night dinner was a real treat as I looked around the room and realized that all of those people were my family. Each and every one of the precious grandchildren was such a special treat. They are growing up so nicely and two are already in their teens!

Of course the most important part of the shabbat was the brit of our newest grandson, son of my daughter Rachel and her husband Ohad. The baby is beautiful and the synagogue on shabbat morning was filled with not only our usual shabbat morning people and those who came because of the brit, but also the women in the community who show up at special times since this was shabbat zachor.

So in this mass of people, our newest grandson was brought into the covenant of Avraham Avinu (our father Abraham) with tears and happiness, and given the name Yirmiyahu Yaakov (in English translation, Jeremiah Jacob). His parents will be calling him “Yirmi” which is a sweet sound in Hebrew.

As I looked at him and heard people wishing “L’torah, l’chupah, u’l'maasim tovim” wishing him to grow up to learn Torah, to marry, and to do kind deeds, I realized how much I want to be here to see all of that and to cherish all of the moments in between with his parents, his siblings, and with him.

Welcome to the world, Yirmi!

We are looking forward to a fabulous shabbat! The little boy (AKA “he who has no name”) will be the star of the show as family and friends gather to welcome him into the community of Israel.

And I am thrilled.

And also shell-shocked.

For my blessings have caught up with me.

Because on this shabbat, in addition to our youngest daughter who lives a 10 minute walk away from here with her husband and baby and our older daughter, who lives an 8 minute walk away from here with her husband and 6 children (one of them being the selfsame “he who has no name”), we will be enjoying shabbat with our son from Rechovot and his 6 children, our son and his wife from Alon Shevut and their 6 children, and our son and his wife from Givat Shmuel and their 5 children.

Now the meals are no problem (well, they are not MY problem…. my daughter and her husband are taking are of them) but where to sleep? Since the majority of my friends and acquaintances are sane, it was highly unlikely that any one family could be sent to anyone else’s house to sleep… so it appears that we will be able to have a total of 7 people accomodated at 2 locations offsite and the rest of the visitors will be here with us. That means that something like 17 people will be sleeping at our house.

“Let’s face it,” I said to my husband, “there’s no way we will be sleeping Friday night.”

but it will be wonderful having everyone here together for such a happy occasion….

Thanks, Kirby, for inviting us all to participate.

Here are my 10 in no particular order.

1. I sure do wish you would let that beard of yours grow longer and more bushy.

2. I so love cleaning house!

3. If you’re going to be serving ice cream, I’d rather not come.

4. Why are you having yet another child?

5. Going away? To where? No, sorry, I’d rather stay home.

6. It doesn’t matter how you act when you are away from home because no one you know will ever find out.

7. I regret staying home to raise my children.

8. My kids and I aren’t so close.

9. I’m moving back to the US.

10. Who wants to come shopping with me for some scarves to cover my face?

Here are some of the sayings I was raised with….

About shopping for better value items:
When you buy cheap, you have cheap.

After something you paid a lot of money for malfunctions or breaks:
What do you want for nothing?

About tickling- reflecting ambivalence:
Stop it; I like it.

About sibling battles:
He hit me back first.

Philosophy of family relations:
He’s mad; so he’ll get glad.

About love and marriage:
You should wait for the right man like K did.
(K’s husband divorced her a few years later and moved in with his male lover.)

(From a mother to her son– as reported by her son’s wife)
You can always get another wife, but you only have one mother.

And now two that are totally irrelevant to anyone living in Israel:

Table etiquette:
When you set the table, always remember serving pieces.
What are serving pieces?

You can’t wear white before Memorial Day or after Labor Day.
(our only white rule is YES! White for Yom Kippur!)

Please feel free to 1. guess who said each of these
2. add some sayings of the grownups of your own

From triLcat (Thank you! How could I have forgotten!!!!)
About yummy foods:
Did that piece of cake have a twin?

or
Do you know what this tastes like? It tastes like another one.