Even though we’re on the other side of Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur, many of us are still in High Holiday mode. I for one am still wishing others a Shana Tova, and I’m still making personal resolutions to do better in the coming year. Resolving comes from realization and a sense of self-awareness, right? To be clear, I’ve NEVER stuck to a single New Year’s (January 1) resolution, so here’s my attempt for this year.
I recently went through the pictures on my digital camera, reviewing the snapshots of the summer: Birthday parties, fun at the pool, days at Sesame Place, summer barbecues and an afternoon at the local butterfly exhibit. On that particular day, my girls dressed in bright colors hoping that a butterfly would land on an outstretched arm or an open palm. In their little girl ways, they tried to coax these fragile butterflies to fly closer, and to make contact, but the butterflies just fluttered by.
No. This isn’t a blog post about my mission to find happiness by dropping out of my life and traipsing across the world, alone, to feed my body and soul. It’s not about being self-absorbed. It’s
about the importance and impact of friendship and community at a time of crisis.
Last month I wrote a piece on making Mother’s Day more than just a Hallmark holiday. Now, we find Father’s Day just around the corner.
When I got married, I told myself that if I ever had daughters, I would only buy them Barbie dolls if they REALLY wanted one. I’ve always been wary of the message that Barbie sends to little girls – her impossibly long flowy blond hair, perfect make-up, perpetually arched feet so she can fit into her stiletto heels and her disproportional figure – one that on an actual human would cause a woman to topple over.
Oh Mother’s Day. From the triumphant looks on our kids’ faces as they “surprise” us with breakfast in bed, handmade cards and personalized trinkets, to the panicked look on a husband’s face when he suddenly remembers, all too late, what day it is, there is always a funny story to share with our friends when the day is over.
I feel like I spend all day creating lists. I make shopping lists, menu lists, lists of people I want to invite for Shabbat lunch, lists of people I need to call, to-do lists for work and to-do lists for all the various outstanding projects I have to do at home. I have broken down these lists into “in due time” (go through the kids closet and pull old clothes that don’t fit them) and “urgent” (draft blog posting for www.challahcrumbs.com) and “super-duper-urgent” (pick up prescription for sick child).
Now that I think about it: When did I become a woman?!
I read a lot about different parenting techniques and approaches – including Netanya’s and Devorah’s recent blog posts. So of course, like so many of you, I followed the controversy surrounding Amy Chua’s latest novel, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. In it, she chronicles all of the expectations – including an incredibly long list of dos and don’ts – she holds for her children.
I have two daughters, ages 6 and 3. They love each other to bits and pieces – except for when they don’t. And when they don’t love each other, they fight like cats and dogs. It’s not uncommon for one of them to come running to me crying, “So-and-so isn’t sharing!” My response is standard, and almost always the same: “Work it out between yourselves. And if I hear one of you cry over this, you’re both going to be punished.” Maybe that doesn’t seem fair to you the reader, or to them – but it teaches my daughters negotiating and sharing skills, and more importantly, it saves me from having to referee whose Barbie gets a turn wearing the pink sparkly dress.
