A Mother's Worst Nightmare

"It can always be worse" is my motto.

We need to keep life's challenges in perspective.

Recognizing that most situations could be worse helps us to appreciate our situation, even if our situation is not all that great.

Then there are mornings like today, when you hear about something so awful that it really is a mother's worst nightmare.

I was still in bed when my eldest daughter called.

She heard something really awful and did not know how to process her feelings.

The news reported that a 16 year old girl and a 20 year old boy were found, dead, in Nachlaot, apparently from a drug overdose.  The girl is someone my daughter has known since she was a baby.  They were in playgroup and, later, in kindergarten together.  Most of the girls in my daughter's High School were in Elementary School and/or Jr. High School with this girl.  All the mothers know this girl's mother.

My daughter told me: "the first thing I did was verify that the information is true; the next thing I did was to call you."

We spoke for a few minutes.  Then my daughter needed to go to class. 

They are addressing this incident in her school. 

Everyone is in shock.

I tried to find information on the internet.  The news reports do not mention the name of the girl or her family.

Once again I am struck by the irony of the adage "no news is good news." 

This is the second time that I learned details of a tragedy even before all the information was released to the public. 

I am still stunned.

How can I expect my 16 year old to process this nightmare when I am having such a difficult time processing it?



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Teenagers!

(Hat Tip to Hadassah at In the Pink)

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Shoes, Shoes, and more Shoes

(You can read about how much I love shopping in general, here and here, and how much I love shoe shopping in particular, here and here)
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Well, you already know how much I love shopping……. NOT!

So, what can be better than shopping? Shopping when I am sick!

Yesterday, my eldest informed me that we had to go shopping for sneakers on Tuesday, because her sneakers had a hole on the bottom and on Wednesday morning she was leaving for massa Pesach (a two day hike with her youth group).

Great….

I so wanted to tell her that I could not do it. But she had a HOLE in her sneakers! Even I recognized that as a legitimate reason for new sneakers.

So, this morning, I dragged myself out of the house and took her to Talpiot, an industrial neighborhood with both upscale and discount stores.

Our first stop would be a surplus store that often has good prices, but the salespeople are unpleasant.

My daughter asked why I was not boycotting the store, since there are several places that I boycott due to outrageously offensive treatment by their staff.

I explained that my only alternative was to either spend a lot of money on shoes or to spend at least an hour (maybe more) crossing town to Givat Sha’ul, another industrial area, on the opposite side of town.

Perhaps if I was feeling well, my principles might have driven me across town, but not today.

So, we entered the store, ignored the smoking staff at the entrance (totally illegal, by the way, and usually enough to make me walk out of almost any store), and went to the back of the store where there was, thankfully, no smoke, and many sneakers.

The sneakers were 2 for 100 NIS, for good quality sneakers. Probably last year’s styles, but that does not really bother us. My daughter is fashion conscious, but not unreasonable.

We found 2 pair that my daughter liked, in record time! (YAY!)

Then, as I was returning the shoes that did not fit, I noticed a pair of sneakers in her size with those wheely things underneath. (You know, those retractable wheels. I am sure there is a name for these types of sneakers, but I am clearly not cool enough to know what it is!) (A quick search of the internet reveals the name "Heelys")

Anyway, they fit and they were fun, so we decided to take them as well.

There was also a cute pair of boat sneakers on the clearance rack that we picked up, ‘cause they were cheap enough (29.90) that it would have been a shame not to take them. I know my daughter will wear them.

So, we arrived at the checkout counter with four pair of sneaker and discovered that the owner was just as unpleasant as we had remembered!

He would not give us the third pair at the discount price, which was annoying but understandable. But when I asked him to hold the third pair until I could bring my other kids to find another pair to purchase together, he was totally obnoxious.

At first, he insisted that he could only hold the shoes for two hours!! I mean, what is that?? I knew that I would not be able to return to the store until the next day. Eventually, he did agree to hold the shoes until the next morning, but why did I need to argue for that??

Just as we finished negotiating, an Arab woman approached the checkout counter. She also wanted just one pair of shoes. I suggested that we make the purchase together and she agreed.

Interestingly, the owner did not hassle us about that at all, and allowed us each to pay for our purchase individually. As he bagged the shoes, he might even have passed for pleasant.

I will never understand Israelis!

Total cost for four pair of sneakers (3 Spalding, 1 Lee Cooper): 179.90 NIS.

Total time: 1 hour and 15 minutes.

Not bad.

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When we left the store, the Arab woman walked in the same direction as us. It turned out that she was parked next to us.

She smiled at me and waved me over to her. At first I was not sure what she wanted. Then I realized she was asking me to help pull her car out of the parking space, as she is a new driver. It is difficult to pull out from those spaces, both because of the angle of the parking spaces and because you have to pull out into oncoming traffic (might I add, discourteous oncoming traffic, that is often very unaccommodating to cars trying to pull out and, God forbid, get in front!).

I went to stop the traffic for her, to give her time and space to pull out, but she still did not get into her car. I was confused, and a little embarrassed about stopping the cars for nothing.

I finally realized that she wanted me to actually get in her car and drive it out of the space.

I got behind the wheel and spent a few minutes inching my way out of the parking space, with her standing outside, nervously worrying that I was going to hit another car. (I should have suggested that she help by stopping the traffic!)

I was happy to help, though it did mean that I had to undergo that unpleasant experience twice!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

"You're the Best"

She burst through the door with a HUGE smile on her face.

"You're the best, Ima," she said, enveloping me in a warm hug.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

A few days ago, after I had gone through all the efforts to make sure she could attend the two day seminar, my daughter, at the last minute, wanted to know how bad it would be if she decided not to go. I decided not to force her, but I did explain some of the ramifications of not attending. In particular, I made sure she understood that when someone (like her mother) makes efforts of her behalf, and then she disregards those efforts, that person is less likely to make efforts on her behalf in the future. "That means I have to go," she declared, dejectedly.

Now, the truth is that her mother would probably make those efforts again. But the other people, like the head of the program, might not. And it is important that she value the efforts made by others on her behalf.

So, though I knew it was the right thing for her to go, I worried that she would not get the most out of it, especially if she did not have the right attitude.

Arriving late on the day of departure did not help. (Read about it here)

With a little trepidation, I called later that day, to check up on her. She sounded buoyant and energetic and did not really want to spend time on the phone talking to her mom. That was a good sign.

I did not hear from her again, until today, when she wanted to know if I loved her enough to pick her up....

Unfortunately, both Moshe and I were not feeling well today. So she had to take a bus home... in the rain.

Sill, given the way she bounded through the door, and gave me a non-stop play-by-play, it is pretty clear that she is glad she went. (It helps that she told me as much)

I just hope she remembers this the next time....



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

The Answer is "YES"

(To appreciate this post, read this first)

I was wrong.

The answer, apparently, was "yes."

I had a pretty lousy night. I woke up several times from acid reflux, caused by the chemo.

Instead of sleeping in, I was up at 8:00. (early for me, even on good days)

On my way to the bathroom, I noticed the light was off in Y's room. She often forgets to turn off her light when she leaves the house. I was glad she remembered. But, what if....

On a whim, I peeked into her room, to make sure she left all right.

AAAACKKKK!

There she was, still sleeping soundly, under her covers!

I quickly roused my daughter, and told her the time. (She had set her alarm for 6:00, so she could be out of the house by 6:45, in order to catch two buses and arrive on time, at 7:30!! The alarm did not go off.)

"Come on," I rushed her, "I'll take you now!"

I threw a skirt on over my pygamas, put on a scarf, grabbed my coat and was ready to go.

Then, a miracle occured: my teenage daughter was ready to leave the house within five minutes of waking.

On our way out the door, I called the person in charge of the seminar, to make sure they had not yet left. In my experience, groups like that never leave within half an hour of the designated time and often much later. Still, I didn't want to get there and discover they were gone.

He said they were about to leave, but would wait for us. "We'll be there in ten minutes," I told him, dashing out the door.

Y did not believe we would make it there that quickly, but I figured that it was "early" for a morning with no school. Sure enough, we made it before they were ready to leave! The girls were still loading the bus.

"Do I love you enough to take you in the morning?" I asked my daughter.

"Yes!" she answered, and disappeard into the melee.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

"Losing It" or "Do You Love Me Enough to Drive Me in the Morning?"

Today, for the second time since I started the new chemo regimen, I was scheduled to receive both Herceptin and Taxol and the bone drugs. The last two weeks, I only got Taxol, and I finished really late both times. I did not want to come twice to the hospital, like I did the first time I got both treatments (and I did not need to get the bone drugs then).

So I told everyone (my doctor, the nurses, the research staff) how important it was for me to get both treatments today, so that I would not have to come in a second day during Chanukah. My kids are home from school and I want the time with them!

Everyone helped. I can't begin to list all the people who went above and beyond the "call of duty" to make it work.

I arrived at 8:40 (early for me), and I finished chemo around 4:40. Most of the staff left by 3:00 (it is Chanukah, after all). Even the nurse who was on duty until the end was patient and pleasant.

I got home after 5:00 and I was exhausted! (Also still a little woozy from the antihistamine) I wanted to eat a bit, light candles and go to sleep. Ha!

My eldest daughter wanted my help; so I dropped everything to help her. What I thought would take just a few minutes of problem solving, revealed a much greater problem (which she had created during a "teenage moment" yesterday). Though I was still upset with her about that particular "teenage moment," I tried to help solve the current crises. However, in the middle, as I was asking for her help to solve her problem, she had another "teenage moment." I had already solved the major problem and was now working on the original, relatively minor, problem (she really wanted a ride in the morning, at 7:00).

At first, I handled myself well. I stopped what I was doing and calmly told her that she behaved inappropriately to me and I would no longer be helping her to solve this particular problem (it's not like there was no way for her to get where she needed to go; she could take a bus).

Had I stopped there, she would have been upset, but I would have done the right thing.

Unfortunately, my kids know how to "suck me in!" Within seconds, I was dealing with a whiny and demanding child.

That is when I lost it.

Boy, did I yell at her! All my frustrations about yesterday's incident, combined with today's incident, combined with the fact that I was exhausted and still taking care of her even when she deserved to learn her lesson the hard way, and I was just fed up with her attitude!

My friend, who was in the other room, heard me shouting and high tailed it out of there! Oops.
Well, now she knows I'm human, and yell at my kids sometimes. (I know it might be hard to believe, especially for all you perfect parents out there, but I can be pretty scary when I am a raging lunatic mom)

I tried to regain my composure and talk reasonably with my daughter, but everything that came out of her mouth just agitated me further! Finally, Moshe came out and sent her to her room.

Later, much later, he went in to talk with her.

Then she came out to talk with me.

We were both much calmer and had a really productive conversation. Every time my daughter slipped into "teenage mode," I miraculously managed to maintain my poise and refocus her attention on the main issues at hand.

When we finished, she went off to do the things she had to do. I promised her that when she was done, we could spend a few moments together.

When she came back, she was affectionate, but still a little irritating. Eventually, I got her to smile and even to laugh.

"Why won't you drive me in the morning?" She asked, for the umpteenth time, looking up at me with her puppy eyes.

"Because I do not love you enough," I answered, exasperated.

"Can you love me more," she implored.

"I already do," I answered, kissing her on her forehead.

Y: "A hundred times?"

Me: "A million times"

Y: "A googol?"

Me: "A googol of googols."

Y: "Enough to take me in the morning?"

Me: "No."

Y: "Can you love me more?"

Me: "Yes."

Y: "A lot more?"

Me: "To the moon and back!"

Y: "Enough to take me in the morning?"

Me: "No."


Suddenly Moshe's voice interrupted us: "Doesn't she have to get up in the morning?"

I looked at Y with "that look" that said "you are getting me in trouble with your Abba again!" Then I mouthed to her "get into bed" and called back to him: "she's already in bed."

"No I'm not" she called back, laughing, as she ran to her room.

Then she stopped, turned to me and asked “Will you sing to me?”

I was so tired. But, how could I say "no?" We had had two very bad fights in as many days, and now she was asking me to sing to her, something I have not done for a very long time.

I got up and accompanied her to her room. Then she crawled under the covers and stuck her hand out, for me to hold.

As I sang to her, she closed her eyes and smiled that peaceful, beautiful smiling of sleeping children.

When I finished, we hugged each other.

"I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you so much," I whispered back.

Then, just before I walked out the door, I paused. "No," I answered the unasked question one final time.

"What...?" she started to ask.... then.... "Oh....."

She giggled.

"I love you, mommy."

"I love you too sweetheart."





Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Socially Acceptable Body Mutilations, A.K.A. Pierced Ears

If God wanted us to have holes in our ears, we would have been born that way!

In the Bible, ear piercing is a sign of slavery! (See Devarim (Deuteronomy) 15:16-17)


When I discovered that my father was against piercing your ears, that was OK with me. I did not really want anyone putting unnecessary holes in my body. (Little did I know....)

Over time, I acquired a pretty nice collection of clip-on earings.

I was proud to have unpierced ears.

And then.... betrayal!

My daughter wanted pierced ears.

"You can make that decision for yourself, when you are eighteen," I declared, just as my parents told my sister, repeatedly, every time she asked for pierced ears.

My daughter persisted.

In an effort to placate her, I lent her (and her sister), my clip-on earings.

For a while, I thought I had succeeded.

I was pleased that they were using my earings. Even though they lost several pair, I thought it was worth it if they would lose interest in piercing their ears.

WRONG.

Much to my chagrin, my daughter continued to beg for permission to pierce her ears. (This made me quite sorry that I lent them my earings, since it is IMPOSSIBLE to find clip-on earings anymore, and I cannot replace the ones they lost!)

This summer, I discovered that my daughter had a powerful ally.

One bright, sunny day, my sister pulled me aside. I thought she was about to share with me some super secret. With the greatest air of sharing confidences, she quietly suggested that... I let Y pierce her ears before school starts. Woah! Y is only 14!! She is not even close to turning 18!

My sister, ever so gently, suggested that I do not really want to make my daughter wait that long.

"No way!" I told my sister.

My sister was not so easily deterred.

Over the next several weeks, my sister cajoled me, little by little, wearing down my resistance.

She assured me that my daughter would not "grow out" of her interest in pierced ears. She explained just how much she resented not having pierced ears when she was a kid. And she described how appreciative my daughter would be, if I relented.

I stuck to my guns, and school started with no bodily mutilations.

But my sister did not let it go.

"OK, we missed the beginning of school. But think how nice it would be if she got her ears pierced before Rosh HaShannah...."

"I don't want her to pierce her ears," I repeated, but my arguments were beginning to sound weak, even to me.

I love my daughter. In some ways, she is a lot like me. But not in all ways.

Unlike me, my daughter really is a "girly girl." She is like my sister. She is "into" clothes; she likes shopping, she likes nail polish, she wants to use make up. (My other daughter is the same way, btw).

What can I say? I was never interested in those things. Neither was my mother. But my sister was.

I do not really understand that facet of my daughter's personality. But my sister does.

So, despite my strong facade, I listened when my sister explained how important earings can be to a teenager, and how the desire for pierced ears will only grow stronger, and she will get them anyway, and quite possibly resent me for preventing her from piercing her ears earlier.

I listened.

I recognized the truth of her words.

I resisted.

I reflected.

I wished things were different.

I started noticing who did not have pierced ears.

A lot of my friends and acquantances do not have pierced ears. (As a group, we are a statistical anomaly)

I started asking these unpierced women, "Did you want pierced ears in high school?"

They all answered the same.

"No."

I could not ignore the evidence.

I had to ask myself, 'if my daughter is going to pierce her ears anyway, what advantage is there to making her wait until 18?'

I had no good answer.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Letting Go

I officially have a teenager.

I am not complaining, just stating a fact.

My daughter is doing her own thing.

She no longer asks me permission for everything.

She uses her own judgment, forms her own opinions, and makes her own decisions.

I am trying to be ok with this.

It is hard to let go. But it is worse to try to hold on tight.

I did that a few weeks ago, and the results were disastrous.

I hope I won't make the same mistake twice.

For a teenager, she is still pretty terrific.

She has good values and her head, and heart, are in the right place.

I pray for the strength to let her be her own person.

I love her so much.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Aseifat Horim

I wouldn't even begin to know how to say Aseifat Horim in English!

In the beginning of every school year, every educational framework in Israel, from Gan (kindergarden) through High School, has an aseifat horim.

At the aseifat horim, parents meet their children's teachers for the first time. It is also an opportunity to meet the other parents.

For kindergarden, the aseifat horim is relatively simple. Parents arrive, are given some sort of cardboard shape (eg. a flower), and are asked to write their child a bracha (blessing) for the upcoming year. Then, the ganenet (kindergarden teacher) invites the parents to introduce themselves, after which, she explains everything a parents should know about kindergarden. At the end, the ganenet asks for volunteers for the va'ad horim (parents committee).

In the beginning of our journey into the school system, I was impressed that parents were invited to be more involved. With time, I learned that the main job of the va'ad horim was to collect money.

In elementary school, in addition to meeting with the teachers, the aseifat horim includes greetings from the principal.

In Junior High School, we are also introduced to other staff (guidance counselor, vice principal, etc).

Last night, we had our first High School aseifat horim.

The first thing that impressed me was that it began on time!!

Good thing, too, because there was a lot of talking! Greetings from the principal, the Rav, the vice principal, the pedagogical coordinator, a second pedagogical coordinator, the administration manager -- whew!

Admittedly, some of it was a little boring.

Nonetheless, overall, everyone who spoke was really excited about the school and about all the special programs. Their enthusiasm was contageous.

Finally, we divided into our individual class meetings. It was nice to see some familiar faces among the parents.

Y's teacher exuded positive energy, and was very articulate. I discovered that this teacher would teach my daughter for both 9th and 10th grade. I was pleased.

I could tell why my daughter was happy to go to school every day.

When we got home, Y was in bed, but still awake.

"Did you meet my teacher?" she asked, right away.

Y looked up at me, her sweet, innocent, eyes shining.

In a soft voice, she continued, "She's nice, isn't she?"

I looked at my beautiful daughter, who is growing up so fast, and whose independence is emerging as a strong force in our household.

I wanted to hold onto that moment forever.

I bent down, and kissed her on her forehead.

"Yes, she is," I assured my daughter, as her eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA