Of siblings and favorites

I loved receiving the comments from Sandy and Toby on my last posting. Yes, indeed. Siblings need to get along because when they do they truly are each others’ most steadfast companions through life. They share memories of events and attitudes and tastes and impressions and lots of funny stories.

My sister told me that she forgave me for the mean things I did to her because she didn’t want us to become like our parents’ siblings who didn’t get along and were not able to enjoy the warmth and intimacy they could have had with each other.

The truth is, as I look back at my childhood, I was set up to have a poor relationship with her. My mother overtly told me that it was “the brown eyes against the blue eyes.” She and my sister had brown eyes; my father and I had blue eyes. My mother stopped taking me to dancing lessons because “the baby” was sick. My dancing lessons were always the best hours of the week. So the fact that both my sister and I chose to be close and remain close was fortuitous and not what would naturally have occurred.

One of the best moments of my life (really) was the moment at my oldest son’s wedding when he and my middle son were dancing together (which is done at traditional Jewish weddings where the dancing is gender-separated) and as they swung each other around I could see big smiles on both of their faces. These were the two who squabbled the most and it was wonderful to see them rejoicing together.

As a parent, seeing ones children being kind to each other and helping each other is the ultimate high. What could be better than knowing that you have enabled your children to have warm relationships with each other that support and affirm through the years, and to know that when you are gone, they will be there for each other.

As to Toby’s response: In the course of development, children learn a number of skills. When they reach adolescence, the most important aspect of their development is individuation. The child needs to define him/herself as separate from his/her father and mother. At this time the child begins to notice which ways he/she is like and which ways he/she is unlike his/her parents. In a healthy home, the child takes much of what the parents have had to offer in the way of an example– values, attitudes, manners of behaving, religious beliefs, etc. and makes them his own- really incorporates them into his being, not as a given, but as a choice. Similarly, he/she defines him/herself as different from parents with some attitudes, values, behaviors, etc. that are different from the parents.

Now let’s look at a dysfunctional family where there are clear winners and losers as children. If the child is a loser in the parents’ eyes, he/she is really free to define him/herself as an individual. He/she knows that pleasing the parent(s) is impossible, so he/she can become his/her own person. He/she can take responsibility for evaluating his/her courses of action and take pride in making decisions. But woe unto the winners in the dysfunctional family. The winners are the children with whom the parents have so over-identified that any action or behavior contrary to the parents’ will is treason. All deviations are punished and all conformity is overwhelmingly rewarded. “Oh, look at her! She’s just like me!” For these children individuation becomes an impossible task– because all deviation from the parent(s)’ wishes is seen as betrayal. For some, individuation doesn’t happen until after the parent(s) has/have died. For some, it never happens. They never get to live their own lives. And that is why I said that it is easier to be the child who is out of favor than the one who is favored.

Sure, why not

So you want to hear about the family…

Well, there is my generation. We are a total of three people: my husband, my sister, and I. My husband was a chaplain in the US Army and a civilian rabbi until he came to Israel on aliya in 1999. My sister has been working in the Philadelphia Prisons for a very long time (around 30 years). She’s a social worker. See. That was easy.

I’ll tell you a little more about each of them.

My husband and I first met the summer he turned 21 and I was approaching 16. He had already graduated from college and was starting rabbinical school and I was returning that fall to start my junior year in high school. We were just friends. I had a kind of a crush on him, but girls that age are always having crushes and it’s probably only a coincidence that we ended up getting married. We simply stayed in touch long enough until both of us were in a position to think of marriage seriously. I’m not sure I knew what I was doing when I married him, but so far it’s worked out well (and it’s 42 years.) One of the big things he has going for him is that he is able to put up with me.

My sister has been with me for all but the first 4.5 years of my life. She has always been my friend. Even when I didn’t treat her very well, she was my friend. We supported each other through difficult, but very different childhoods. She was the favored child and I the child who was the recipient of most of our mother’s anger. I think she had the harder job. I knew I could never please my mother. She thought she could. Through the years, through ups and downs, we have remained close and although we live far apart, we never really *are* far apart.

So that’s this generation… next, some musings about some of my kids (hopefully in a way that won’t embarrass them too much.)

Despite Motherhood

My daughter, Rachel Inbar, has a new blog that I find fascinating. Even if you aren’t interested in reading it from the beginning (which I highly recommend), you have got to check out a video she posted today. I will give you a hint: it contains two people I love and an furry blue old friend. You can see it here: here

“It’s always nice to come home to family! ”

My friend Sandy sent this title as a comment on a recent post. And it is so very true. Despite the fact that we have been having a wonderful vacation and lots of adventures, the very best part of it so far was returning to see my son and his family and my daughter and her two sons. What happiness it is to be in the arms of the people you love!

On Wednesday, when we went to Universal Studios, I enjoyed the free time to talk with my daughter and have some of that mother/daughter time that we lack because she is busy taking care of her own active family and working. It was nice to walk together and to talk about nothing in particular, but just enjoy being together. It was wonderful to see my husband with our daughter and our grandsons enjoying his birthday in such a festive atmosphere. I loved being able to give my grandsons hugs and I was captivated by the smiles of my youngest grandson, now four months old and completely happy all day long! Last night, I enjoyed hearing my son’s stories about the cruise he was on while we were in Alaska. He surely does know how to have adventures! I loved watching him cuddle his older daughter as he sat and talked with us. And I loved talking with another son via Skype this morning. It was so good to hear his voice and to be able to exchange thoughts and ideas.

I suppose this is the reward that some of us parents are lucky enough to get for all of those endless days when we wondered if all of the work and all of the emotional investment would ever be worth it. It was worth it. Every second. It was SO worth it.

And so it is in this context I want to talk about yesterday.

After spending a lovely morning with a lot of the people I have mentioned, we set off to see my husband’s cousin. They are first cousins who last saw each other over 50 years ago!!! For a long time, they were out of contact, but in recent years, through the wonder of email, they reconnected. Although I had never met him or his wife, I felt as if I were seeing family. They were warm and kind and open and friendly and totally delightful despite his being an author of several well-known books and the winner of an Oscar for a screenplay he wrote and her also being an author, well known in her native country. As I watched the two men walking side by side on a sinlit, wind-swept cliff overlooking the Pacific, I was touched by the poignance of older and younger cousin reconnecting and sharing memories and information with each other and each of them finding missing pieces of themselves in the other. Maybe that’s what relating is families is really all about. Maybe when we connect deeply with our family, we are finding pieces of ourselves in them and they in us and all of us are becoming more whole.

As I embraced his wife, I couldn’t help feeling that I would soon be leaving something very precious behind. But I will always treasure the day.

What a day!

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.

Yes, the chickenpox as a non sequitur

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.
*****************************************************
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.

A sewer, a tree, a laptop, and me — to say nothing of the beer bread

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.

Decisions, decisions

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.

She got in!

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.

That was the seder that was

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.