Rule Number One: Admitting That We Have No Control….

The First Step in the “twelve steps” is admitting that we are out of control.

Before Passover, knowing full well the family “custom” to (over)eat chocolate during the pre-Pesach (pre-Passover) days and during the holiday itself, I bought several bars of the finest Swiss type with trepidation. I knew that these bars of “instant energy” were a potential diet bombshell, especially as I was running at that time on about 4 hours of sleep nightly.
The question was, why should I buy at all?
Well, Orthodox Jews take seriously the command not to eat leaven over the holiday (unfortunately the command to guard one’s health seems less critical at this juncture), and the types of food available with a really good kosher certification (for Passover) are somewhat limited. (Especially for those who also do not consume legumes over the week.) I wanted to have good treats to give the grandchildren, and my husband might very well see non-purchase of an essential like chocolate to be grounds (almost) for divorce…..
So I ate some before Passover, and although I was eating much less than once, it was surely enough to cause a dent in my plans not to gain over the month. I realized that sleep-deprivation and stress were factors in play, and consoled myself that once the holiday entered, these factors would fall by the wayside, and I would be able to get my eating under control. After all, salads and vegetable soups are great Passover foods, not just matzah with butter.
So the holiday has started, I have returned to having time for aerobic walking, and I discovered to my horror, that my consumption of fattening foods has stayed out of control.
Finally last night I admitted to myself step number one: I am powerless over the Swiss bars. So I passed them on to someone else to distribute to the grandchildren.
This does not mean that I am perfectly in control already. The lack of many of my regular diet “substitutions” has still made dieting this week very difficult, but I am beginning to get a semblance of normal intake.
BTW, I am able to withstand the cooking chocolate OK. It is only the special Passover Swiss luxuries I am unable to resist. At least I won’t have them around AFTER the holiday. But I am well aware that the failure to properly exercise my mental “SAY NO” muscle is dangerous, and I must tread VERY carefully in the weeks ahead (this week too) in order to prevent a backsliding to those pre-diet days when overeating just seemed uncontrollable. I must relearn to say “NO!”.

Pre-Passover Update (Fiasco # 2 ) (and #3….)

Someone asked how she got hold of the “chometz” (leavened food). Simply, it was hanging outside the front door. I had no idea that she would dare bring it into the house. So after the cracker fiasco, I hid the pitot ( a less crumbly type of bread) that we were planning to eat over the Sabbath, Well, she FOUND them and again ate in the living room! After that I hid them better, but also made sure to wake up before she did Saturday morning!
Finally, tonight I sent her downstairs with a few crackers, telling her not to reenter the house until she was finished. Again, she disobeyed me, and came in, but I caught her right away and sent her out again.
The interesting thing is that she does understand, theoretically at least. Today we took an early morning stroll (oh, so nice to get out after three days in the house!), and I asked her where she thought we would be eating pitot today, in the salon or on the roof. She replied “on the roof”.
-Why?
-Because it is chometz.

So she does understand. She just has trouble with her desire to eat.

Sounds like someone else I know who understands that chocolate before Passover is just as fattening as all year round but who nevertheless has had 1 ½ bars over the last three or four days……

Starting Off One’s Day….

EXPLANATION:
For those of you who are not familiar with what Passover (“Pesach”) entails for an orthodox Jewish housewife, I will need to explain or you will not understand my post today.
On Passover, we are enjoined not to eat leaven, and we take this commandment seriously. VERY seriously. In the weeks before the holiday, we clean our house from all leavened materials (bread, crackers, etc…, including all the crumbs that get everywhere over the course of the year….). Then when the house is finally clean, we cover our kitchen with clean material (foil, paper, etc), get out special Passover dishes and pots, and cook up all those delicious holiday meals that our guests are eagerly
Yes, it is a LOT of work [This is the major reason I have been blog posting so little. I have several unwritten posts waiting for me to find the time….] However, it is also gratifying to see the house clean, and of course the family gathering over the holiday are what makes it all worthwhile.
POST:
Well, basically my house is “Kosher L’Pesach” (clean for Passover” already. Yesterday I cleaned the living room, and the kitchen is also basically done. Today I need to clean my refrigerator and get out the special Passover dishes from their boxes.
Last night I was up late, finishing to cover the stove and the living room table. But I gratefully realized that Ricki doesn’t have school today, and I could sleep until 7 am.
So this morning at six thirty Ricki woke me up and asked about breakfast. “Soon” I mumbled, and turned over to sleep for another half hour.
After awakening, I got dressed and was about to prepare my morning “Start Off the Day” cup of coffee. Then I noticed.
Crumbs.
Cracker crumbs.
In my “kosher L’Pesach” living room.
It seems that Ricki had taken breakfast into her own hands. And the result was an armchair full of crumbs (even underneath the cushion), crumbs on the floor, and on a pile of plastic chairs that I had “checked”. I even found a piece under the dining room table.
The result? A sleepy bleary eyed mother did not start off her day with coffee. My day started off today with sweeping, cleaning, and washing the salon floor.
Ricki, puzzled, said “But Mom, you did the floors yesterday!”
Yea. Before the “cracker fiasco”.
HAVE A NICE DAY! I will. (I’m just happy she didn’t go into the kitchen…).

Chocolate Splurge /A Ricki Story

I am tired, overworked, and sleep deprived. Result? Splurged on chocolate yesterday. I promise myself that today I will be more careful, and will get more sleep as well.
Yesterday evening I cleaned the stove for Passover. (In the meantime I will cook my either microwave or slow cooker…) This morning Ricki entered the kitchen, and noticing the stove was minus the burners, asked “Can I use the stove?” I replied that no, she couldn’t.
Realizing that a fried egg was not an option, she accepted things gracefully, and simply queried “So WHAT will I eat today?” I suggested a grilled cheese sandwich, and she promptly went to make one with the sandwich toaster.

Hunger

I am busy cleaning for Passover. It is a lot of work, but at the same time I am gratified to get to all those cleaning tasks which I shirk off most of the year.
However, all of this takes time, and as it is my day is pretty full. So some of the extra cleaning time has come at the price of a lot less on-line time. The rest has come, due to few other options, from some of my exercise/walking time.
The result? I am hungry as can be. All those lovely “feel-good” hormones released from aerobic walking are missing, and I am simply ravenous all day. But I am holding on…..

"Pesach Cleaning" Ricki's Room

[For those of you who are unfamiliar with "Pesach Cleaning", it is a THOROUGH cleaning of one's house before Passover, with the intention of ridding the house of any crumbs of leaven.]
Yesterday I cleaned Ricki's room for Passover. The biggest problem in doing her room is her bed, which is wedged between the wall and my computer. Moving her bed so as to reach the crumbs beneath it is very difficult, involving moving the computer table first, etc., etc....
In the middle, I called Ricki to help me. As we extracted TONS of stuff from uner her bed (she has a tendency to throw EVERYTHING there), she let out a big sigh. I humbly suggested (as I often have in the past) that she stop using the floor as a waste-basket.
So later that evening I went to check where she had placed her books after reading them. For once, they were NOT behind her bed....

Eyeglasses (Again)

About a month (or more) ago, Ricki lost her eyeglasses within days of their purchase. I thus decided to NOT give her the spare pair, but let her experience long-term what it is like without them. It hardly phased her, amazingly.
Finally the day before yesterday I got the spare pair out, and she wears them constantly at home, but refuses (so far) to wear them to school. I think I need to call in Sherlock Holmes (or at least her teacher). But first I am waiting a few days to see if I can detect any hints as to why she doesn’t want to wear them at school, or to see if she will change her mind.

The Earring

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but six weeks ago, in celebration of having lost 50 kilos, I got my ears pierced. Having patiently waited what I heard was enough time, and having seen my ears heal totally, I decided yesterday to finally put in a nicer pair than the original set.
Well, after I removed one earing, and saw that the “better” earring was no going in so easily, I realized that I better stick with the first pair. This meant, of course, needing to reinsert the first earing. And THAT wasn’t happening either.
My older daughter was away, so I went to my neighbor, but she had no luck. She was obviously afraid of hurting me, or of causing bleeding.
Next I tried my husband. I would insert from the front (which was no problem, the problem was exiting from the back….). and I asked him to stand behind me and tell me whether to aim higher/lower. This ploy was also unsuccessful.
Fearfull that the hole would close, and I would need to start the process all over from scratch, I asked Ricki to put the earing in. She was my last hope. She tried, asking if it hurt. I said “No”, so she continued…. And SUCCEEDED! Unburdened by unnecessary fears, she just kept trying until after a few moments, she managed.
Now I can see that new earrings for Passover in 3 weeks are out; it looks like I will have to wait until the Shavuous holiday in about 10 weeks…….

Terror Attacks / Missiles

This week my married DD was at the hospital for an appointment, and called me anxiously that she heard about the blast, and to check about her brothers in Jerusalem. She is always a bit hysterical whenever there is a bombing. Once several years ago there was a big attack on Purim, and she happened to be in the hospital that day, "watching" Ricki for a few hours so my husband could pop home. What a mistake! Ricki had fallen asleep and she went to take a walk. By mistake she saw the first ambulances arriving unloading the wounded, and thus understands only too well just how horrible these attacks are. I didn't call (no news is good news....), especially as my sons rarely use the buses (one usually uses a bike, the other one walks...). [One of them WAS once just by a bomb attack, but it was the one attack where no one was hurt. Since it was near his study hall, he called me to tell me he was safe, moments before his sister called me telling me to check about him.]
In Israel just about everyone has a friend or a relative of a friend who was killed or seriously injured in an attack. We are a small country, and we feel the losses accordingly.
[BTW, if anyone reading here wants to compare between the bombing and the Palestinian civilians who were killed just before, there is a big difference. The Palestinians where killed by accident. No one in Israel celebrated their deaths.]
Now with the rain of missiles falling on Israel, I fear that war is close. With two sons in the army, “color me” one unhappy mother….

PS- If there is a war, THIS is why....

special exposure Wdnesday - purim

Ricki on Purim:





You will find more of "special exposure Wednesday HERE.

“No, Mom, It’s a Doll”

I did a half-start early this morning when I went to hang some laundry out on the clotheslines at the front of the house. Graciously, it took but a split-second to realize that the body hanging from my neighbor’s roof was a mannequin- a hanging of the biblical (book of Ester) arch-villain, Haman.
Purim (which will be Sunday) is the day that Jews celebrate the triumph over those who would destroy us. And while we do not seek to harm others, when we are faced with a choice between national suicide or fighting our enemies, our choice is clear.
The international press always has a field day with Israel, but I am proud that my sons are in the Israeli army. I am proud of my son who came home exhausted this week after playing a side role in the search for the murders of the Fogel family. Show me any other army in the world that drops leaflets warning non-combatants to leave before attack. Show me any other nation that shows the sympathy towards the civilian population as the Israeli forces. (See HERE for just an everyday example….)
You will NEVER see in Israel “celebrations” as those the Palestinians made when hearing of the murder of the Fogel family. But we will fight for our right to exist, and celebrate the downfall those who are truly evil and actively trying to kill us.
By the way, I mentioned to Ricki that our neighbors had “hanged Haman”, so she cautiously glanced out the window. Her comment: “No Mom, it’s just a doll…..”

Wishing Everyone a Happy Purim

Here it is almost Purim (wishing you a HEALTHY one!) and (so far I have been exceptionally good and not even TOUCHED any chocolate...). I prepared today "salsa) salad for mishloach manot.
Meanwhile, I have started cleaning for Passover. It is keeping me busy, and unfortunately the extra time has been taken from my aerobic walking. I am getting about 5 thousand steps in daily (a lot for "at home" days, but nothing compared to my aerobic walking days). I don't mind that much, as I realize that it is temporary, and I DO need to sleep!

Medication- Sometimes You Need It

Long time readers of this blog know that Ricki has always had a very independent and sassy personality. But up until about a year ago (or less?) we were able to use positive behavior modification with her pretty successfully. Yes, she kept us on our toes, but she realized that there are rules and cooperated when it was in her best interests to do so.
Than she slowly started slipping into a “mode” where parental authority did not exist, and she began using violence at a pretty high rate. I tried revamping my behavior plans, but to little avail. Finally several weeks ago I had to admit that all the good educational methods in the world were NOT helping, and she was completely out of control.
A child (or young adult for that matter) who is out of control is not pleasant to be around. And I realized very quickly that all of Ricki’s tremendous accomplishments in her studies over the years will be of no avail to her if people can’t stand to be around her, and are afraid of her.
Finally, about two weeks ago we started a psychiatric medicine with her, in a small dose. Almost immediately I noticed that her belligerency was MUCH lower. She even started making positive comments, offered to help here and there…
In short, my daughter has resurfaced from the terrible black cloud she was living in.

You need to know. Sometimes medication is necessary for the child’s own good……(Although FIRST there are many many other things to try….)

Ricki’s “New Wardrobe”

Ricki has discovered a new source of fashionable clothing: my “special-events” clothing located on the side of her closet.
She knows that the clothing is mine, evidenced by the fact that she hides them when taking them. But she continues to attempt to take them. Today I moved the clothing to my husband’s closet (there being no room in mine).

“Terrorist” Attack?!!???

CNN has reported the murder of the young family in Itamar settlement as a “terrorist” attack. Excuse me, but WHY are there quotation marks? Is the killing of five people (three of them children, and one of those an infant), sleeping in their beds anything other than murder and terror?
Yes, they lived in the territories. But for that they deserve a death penalty?!??
Shame on CNN. (As IF I expected any better from them…..)

Summer Clothing

I am BUSY (busy, busy) slowly cleaning up the house (“Pesach cleaning”) prior to the Passover holiday due in about 5 weeks. For those who are not familiar with this, it is a cleaning WELL BEYOND your standard “spring cleaning”. But I am always thankful that I have the ability to clean my house, and that my house DOES get this once-a-year-thorough-going-over.
Last week one of my self-appointed tasks was to check out my summer clothing supply. When the hot weather arrives I may be too close to Passover to deal with it.
I am happy to report that much of some ancient clothing which I had in my closet (from YEARS ago) which was too small for me last summer is now too big. But I have some stuff my daughter gave me, and can hopefully hold out on purchasing most of my summer stuff until the start-of-the-season-prices go down. (I am also hoping to sew some stuff…..)

The No- Calorie “Cake”

Yesterday afternoon I was working on Pesach-cleaning* the storage-porch off the side of the boy’s room. Suddenly I had a BIG urge for a piece of cake.
Now, that caused me to pause. I usually have no trouble staying away from cake during the week, although sometimes I (over)-indulge on cake on Friday night or shabbas. I suddenly questioned myself: Why was I getting this craving?
I quickly realized, that I was not really hungry, but wanted a “break” from the cleaning work, and sitting down with some cake was an easy way to accomplish this. So I sat down with a glass of tea instead! And then I realized that I was REALLY tired. So I went and took an hours nap, and awoke craving-free. My nap was a “calorie-free cake”……

Give While You Can

Recently I gave a blood donation. (Well, in truth, it was plasma, which the blood bank prefers. Since I have AB type blood, my plasma has no antibodies to A or B, and is the “universal donor plasma”, while my blood can only go to those with AB type.) I was happy to note that I can donate up to age 65.
Than, last week, someone mentioned in my ceramics class that they were testing for bone marrow donations in the local mal. I have always wanted to join the potential donors list, and have never had an opportunity to do so. So after class, I ran over to the mal, and offered to be tested.
“Age 18-55?” the lady queried.
Abashed, I felt my heart sink. “I’m afraid not,” I mumbled.
“Well, thanks for trying” she added.

Why did I never make the time before this to GO FIND OUT where I could be tested?

Good news if true

Here is good news if true.

In Contrast to The Knitted Vest

Well, I think that what I have to relate tonight is a lovely offset to Thursday’s post about cutting the knitted vest.
Ricki and I had a lovely shabbas. On Friday she overheard “Y” saying “later” when I asked him to take down the trash. Ricki , on her own initiative, came and did the job herself. She also helped her usual amount before each meal.
Then tonight, again, on her own, she:
-swept the floors
-cleaned the windows in the living room
-wiped off the chairs
-completely cleared the table

Oh, and this morning, she took a LONG walk with me (it is a two-hour walk for me normally, it took us 3 hours today, going at a slower pace).
Is anyone surprised that my exhausted daughter fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow at 9PM?

Ricki’s Tall Tales

Ricki wants to be just like everyone else, especially like all of her friends. And why not? Have you ever seen a teen NOT like that?
But Ricki is NOT like all of her friends, many who (1) have different afternoon activities than her and /or (2) have larger extended families.
And if she can’t beat them, so she joins them… at least in her imagination.
You see, if Ricki’s best friend has a swimming class in the afternoon, Ricki will insist that she does, too, and will even take her swimsuit (or, GULP, MINE) to school.
And if a classmate in celebrating the engagement of a cousin, or brother, Ricki will also make up a story about how there is a wedding in the family, or that she is is visiting her sister for shabbas, etc. The question I always wonder at is “How much of this rubbish does her teacher and friends believe?”

The Knitted Vest—Do I Dare Tell?

Today’s story is one I have been hesitant to write and pass on. I envision all those nice new mothers of cute little babies who have Down syndrome reading this, and having their hair stand on end. [But then, probably they will tell themselves “MY kid will never act like that, I will educate him properly.” I have thought similarly in years gone by…..]
So what happened?
I knitted a lovely vest for my grandson. His mother (my daughter) left it on our deep freezer, and a few days later I discovered it, cut across the top by scissors. I was “floored”, and could not figure out why Ricki had done this. The same day she cut a blouse of hers as well.
To put it mildly, I was furious. Ricki got a large and extended punishment. And I carefully removed all the ribbing from the neck and armholes, and unraveled the cut part. I have since reknitted the top of the front, and am working at replacing the ribbing. But I need to hurry; winter is ending soon…..
Color me abashed, angry, and frustrated. Ricki is already getting help for her aggressive behavior; I hope it will turn effective quickly.

The Wrinkled Hands

I suddenly noticed that my hands are wrinkled. VERY wrinkled .Simply the truth hits that I am seeing the effect of my weight loss, the less glamorous side.
But as I have often said, I would rather look old (due to excess skin) and FEEL YOUNG than LOOK young and feel old.

"Is That....?" / Even Less

I heard her from behind me: "Rickismom?????? Is that you?"
I was standing in the grocery store, and a friend I haven't seen in a while hesitantly approached me.
Yes it was me, and yes she hadn’t been sure. This is beginning to happen a lot, and I have to be careful and not make be too self-confident. The way back up the scale is a piece of cake here and there, indiscriminately.
* * * *

I know that I have not been posting a lot, and the bit I have been will soon become less, as I am getting involved in Pesach cleaning. I hope to write more frequently in about two months.

Oh, that morning CUP /

I have been with a relative in the hospital for most of the last day and-a-half. Yesterday morning at 6:30 am as I entered the hospital (after a late-night "pit stop" at home), I made a quick detor to the coffee machine. As I walked down the corridor, I passed a fellow going the opposite direction, also balancing HIS cup of coffee. I smiled, and commented: "Well, I guess nothing really replaces that first cup in the morning....."
Now keeping a diet/Walking Plan can be very hard when a relative is hospitalized. Sometimes just keeping from gaining is the best one can do. Some ideas/hints follow below. Of course, not all apply in every situation, but here they are for what they are worth:
1) Often there are breaks when you can leave a patient's bedside: when they are sleeping, when others visit, etc. Utilize these to get out and walk around the outside of the building, or even in the lobby/long halls. If needed, make smaller circuits to check if the patient has awoken.
2) Ask visitors to bring YOU a salad if you can not buy in the hospital, and you can not bring from home.
3) Many hospitals have grocery stores. Even a few crakers with white cheese will be better than a store-bought danish!
4) Try and find a way to deal with stress. Bring an MP3 with relaxing music, do some stretching exercises in a corner.

GEE, I forgot to Mention!

I've been so busy that I forgot to mention here that I have passed (downward) the 100 kilo mark! I have lost 50 kilos!!!

A Sad Story- And Sadder Yet if We Do Nothing About It

One of the big news items this week in Israel is the rape of a 12 year old girl with Down syndrome. She was waiting outside a building for her father, and was drug forcibly and violated. Luckily the perpetrator was apparently caught. But of course that is not enough.
I have written about the need for awareness of the problem before (HERE).
ALL of our children need abuse-prevention education, and special-needs kids need it even more. Again, a few points:
- Usually the offender is not some weird-looking stranger, but someone that the child knows- a cousin, a brother’s friend, a family acquaintance, etc.
- Children need to be educated about :
1. their ability to say “NO!” (Ask the child which blouse they want the red or blue, and try to give them the one they didn’t ask for).
2. private areas (their own drawer), respect for privacy (knock on their door before entering), and private body areas (covered by a swimsuit)
3. good secrets and bad secrets, and to always tell Mom secrets, even if an adult says not to.
4. who it is appropriate to get gifts from
5. who to tell if someone touches them, tries to hurt them
6. what to do if someone tries to take them, tough them

A good start is Rav Horowitz’s lecture (see HERE).
- a one-time talk is not enough. Especially with special-needs children, repeats are needed. After this incident I AGAIN talked to Ricki. And I told her that there had been an incident. And this time I really think that she took it seriously.
- for special;-needs children/teens acting, puppets, and practicing reaction is imperative.

PLEASE DON’T WAIT. Educate your children TODAY!

Laying Down the Law

Ricki’s favorite breakfast is pancakes. I refuse to make them for her daily, due to the high caloric input that they impart, but this morning, it being coldish outside, I decided to give her a treat. Besides, I was feeling magnanimous towards her this morning; Ricki has been calmer and better behaved the last few days.
However, as she entered the kitchen, I quickly noted that she had put her “Raggedy-Ann” style night socks on, and she was bra-less. I commented that her dress was improper, and she would need to correct it. When she balked, I explained why she could not wear the socks, and when she again balked, I immediately laid down the law: “Go put on hose instead of the socks and put on a bra, or I won’t serve you the pancakes.” She feebly reached for them, but I could see that she realized that I meant what I said. When she turned for a minute, I even managed to slip the plate of food into the silverware drawer, thus negating the need for me to stand guard over the “goods” until the price was paid. When Ricki realized that she did not even know the location of the plate she reluctantly went to fix her clothing. Ten minutes later she was pan-cake full, and had brushed her teeth, and she came to show me that she had done so. She inquired how much time she had left until her morning ride to school, and I told her, adding that maybe she wanted to listen to some music in the interim.
A typical morning, and I suspect, a pretty typical teen as well…..

The Guitar’s Pajamas

Ricki, Her father, and I were sitting around Saturday evening. As her father played his guitar, Ricki relaxed, pleased to see him in a good mood. She only protested when I sang along with him on one song. [For some reason she apparently views “being a mommy” as too serious a business to sing (though I sing all the time….and she also doesn’t like me dancing to my MP3 player, either…..) ]
Anyway, when he was done playing my husband started to put the guitar away in it’s case. He jokingly remarked to Ricki “See, just like you have to go put on PJs, the guitar also wears pajamas.”
Ricki looked at him, puzzled.
“But a guitar isn’t a person. It doesn’t sleep.”
“A dog isn’t a person, and HE sleeps…” countered her father. As she mulled this over he added “A fish sleeps and it’s not human.” At this point I “rescued” Ricki and interjected “But a guitar is an object, not a living creature.”
At this Ricki nodded, and looking at her father said “You were joking, weren’t you?”

She fully understood at last. But what I enjoyed was her verbal expression throughout the whole exchange.

The Toffee Mystery

I needed something at the grocery a block away. Ricki often goes there. The only downside is that she often adds purchases for herself to the bill. But I was desparate, so I sent her, allowing her to purchase a small bag of chocolate milk for school, but with dire warning to make no other extraneous purchases.
She returned home beaming/ranting (simultaneously affecting both moods, as hard as that is to imagine). She proudly stated that she had not taken anything from the grocery besides the allowed items, yet she was at the same time muttering about some “Levi kid” who took her toffees.
“WHAT toffees?” I quizzed. “So you bought toffees in the store!”
No, she protested, she had not. But the Levi kid took her toffees. HER toffees.
I tried to ascertain from where she had obtained toffees, but to little avail. And her bus was due momentarily, so we went down the stairs together. Upon reaching the bottom floor, I noticed the “Welcome Home” sign made of toffees pasted to the Levi family’s door, missing the last letter.
Mystery solved. (Except for understanding how in the world she was able to convince herself that they were HER toffees….)

An Altered, Pictorial "Serenity Prayer"

Oh, the Downside of Independence

Of course, allowing more independence (see Sunday’s post) has it’s drawback--- things DON’T always go as planned.
As I have mentioned before, Ricki is very good with buses. Even though I have nearly always accompanied her on the bus, we often sit apart, and she always knows when to get off if it is a place we have been to previously.
Thus, in a mood of “let’s let her do what she can”, I decided after a doctor’s visit yesterday to let Ricki get off the bus near her school, while I would be getting off one stop earlier. The only problem was that the bus that we caught does not pass her school,; it turns left (and away) about two blocks before reaching the educational facility. But I figured that this would not be a problem, because Ricki often walks to school, and knows the way. Of course, I mentioned to her that the bus does not pass her school, and that she must get off the stop after me. I even reiterated it as I exited the bus.
Later in the day I picked Ricki up in order to take her to her exercise class, and discovered that she had a brand-new cute-as-can-be umbrella. When quizzing her was not productive, I started more intensive interrogations. And when she finally “spilled the beans” I was in for a shock. Apparently she had not gotten off the bus when she should have, and finding herself in unfamiliar territory, had stuck with the bus until the final stop. There the bus drivers took matters in hand, and they took her on a line that passes the school. The umbrella was taken somewhere along the way. [I will add in her that Israel is NOT America, and that even though there is always a chance of evil people being around, we DO live in an almost crime-free area….]
This type of scenario is what prompts parents to NOT let their children be independent. Our fears are great. But, again, at some point the teen or young adult MUST be taught to manage on their own. So I do not see this incident as an indicator that Ricki must be supervised every second, but a pointer as to what area of “the material she needs to know to ride a bus” was not clear enough to her. Although she is fully aware that not every bus takes her to her exercise class, she still needs to internalize better the idea of differing bus routes, and of taking at times a bus that passes further away from your destination than the one you usually take (because the usual one is not available).
Do not think that I am not fearful. I am. But that same fear powers me to look at the need for long-range education for safety, and not just the temporary convenience of keeping her under lock and key.

“Y” and the Wedding / “They Won’t Lynch You….”

In Israel, social groups are often formed by what school you attended, what army unit you served in. For example, our local hardware store owner served in the same tank unit in the Yom Kippur was as my husband did. Whenever he sees me he asks how my husband is.
But my son “Y” has “Switched sides”. He went to a chareidi (ultra-orthodox) high school, and today he is not religious at all. And he is serving in the army, something that is not standard for the chareidi orthodox.
This last weekend he was home on leave, and had several errands to run, And since he recently sold his motor bike, he was without “wheels”. So he stayed in uniform, in order to benefit from the free bus fares for soldiers.
But that same night a friend of his from high school was getting married. So he decided to go and wish the couple “Mazel Tov”, and at the same time see and catch up on his former classmates. I was also planning to stop in briefly at the same wedding, as I know the grooms mother. So we walked over together. It gave me a few minutes of private time with “Y”, a chance to ask him about his present studies, his service, etc. As we neared the wedding hall, he stopped short. “Oh my G-d, how stupid of me. I forgot to bring a kippah*.”
He is not embarrassed to be non-religious, but he didn’t want to insult anyone either. In the end he went ahead to the hall. And he enjoyed his visit with his former classmates. No one started up with him, or was upset. One adult who was connected with the school, but didn’t really know Y at all, did a double-take as he passed him, looking to see who this soldier was, but then continued on without comment.

And it just happened that this same afternoon, a woman army officer had to come see us about something, and in advanced phoned us with the following query: “Is it OK to wear a uniform in your neighborhood?” I told her that she could. I told her to expect a few stares, and added “But don’t worry, they won’t lynch you.”
Often I see that the non-religious are VERY hesitant to enter chareidi areas, afraid of being yelled at, etc,. I suspect that much of this fear is due to bad press, and that in general the reactions of the chareidim (Orthodox)are not all that terrible……

(*headcovering worn by the religious).

The Young Man at the Bus Stop

I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the number 7 bus to Tel HaShomer hospital. As he arrived at the bus stop, and sat down, I immediately noticed that the young man had Down syndrome. I was impressed by his appearance; he was impeccably dressed. He appeared confident and self assured. And shortly afterwards I noticed that as an older man passed, he nodded towards the young adult, saying “Hi Charles” (not his real name), “How ya’ doin’ ?” and “Charles” smiled and answered “Fine, thanks.”
I subdued my impulse to mention that I have a teenage daughter with Down syndrome. This fellow probably isn’t interested in that, and undoubtedly does NOT want to know that his Down syndrome is apparent. I gulped and pulverized the desire to engage him in any discussions about what he does all day.
But a moment later he asked me “The last bus that went by right now, was it a number 54?”
“NO”, I responded, “It was a 92 bus to Petach Tikva. But there WAS a 54 bus about five minutes ago. But the 54 bus comes often, there should be another one soon.”
“Yeah. Well, I can take the 54 or 62.”
The conversation ended, but my unobtrusive observation of “Charles” had not. He was glancing sideways, and tinkering with something in his shirt pocket. A number 62 bus approached, and I waited to see if he would notice…. And he did, but too late. The driver, who had slowed down a tad, had seen no one standing as he approached and he started regaining speed. “Charles” jumped up and tried to wave to the driver, but he was gone already.
“Charles” slumped back into his seat. “They are supposed to stop!” he added, a bit angrily.
“Yes”, I answered, “But you know, if you don’t stand as he approaches, the driver thinks that you are waiting for another bus, like the 92 or the 7. You have to look as I am, at the buses as they arrive, and stand up as the one you want arrives.”
“But he’s supposed to stop!”
“But you have to look for your bus and stand anyway….”
“Oh”
And when his bus arrived next time, he was ready, and boarded, self confidence back in tow……

Blog Gems- Air Your Archives

I have posted a post over at "Blog Gems - Air Your Archives #8"

Allowing Our Fears to Rule…..

We were to go to my step daughter for the Friday evening meal. It is a short 13 minute walk from us, and on Friday evenings the streets are basically closed to traffic. So what was there to fear?
Ricki’s older sister had left ahead of us, going to her sister’s house before Shabbat set in, so that she could use the elevator to haul her baby carriage up to her sister’s apartment. Arriving an hour later would mean hauling the carriage up five flights of stairs.
Ricki, on exiting her pre-Shabbas bath session was stricken to realize that her sister had left without her. Or, to be more precise, she was pained by the knowledge that she was not about to enjoy a stroll with her nephew’s baby carriage………
As a result, she wanted to leave RIGHT NOW. But the time to Shabbas was short, and I needed her help. And Ricki, bless her, acquiesced. She set about helping me straighten up in the living room, sweeping,etc.
Fianally shabbat arrived.
“OK., I’m leaving.”
WHAT??!?
Ricki wanted to walk over to her step-sister’s house. She assured me that she knew the way. And chances are that she did. Ricki has been there several times, and she has an excellent memory for “places”. The traffic was stopped, and there were plenty of people on the street to help her if someone would start up with her.
So what was my problem?
Well, the building we were going to looks nearly identical to the one next to it. What if Ricki mixed them up? What if she couldn’t find the apartment? What if some evil person offered to help her and took her elsewhere?? What if……..well, a mother’s fears are endless.
But Ricki is growing up. She won’t be walking with my escort forever. And realistically, if she got mixed up with the buildings, she would ask a woman for help, or come home. The choice was between 100% safety and independence. It is SSSOOO hard to choose, to give in to Ricki’s wish for independence, and not to coddle her. I feel the responsibility of keeping her safe, yet at the same time, realize that her future safety depends on her learning to fend for herself.
I let her go. I thinkI got a needed push due to the influence of a recently-read post by Dave Hinsburger (who is an expert on disabilities and safety for the intellectually impaired). And my heart was in my throat until I too arrived an hour later. Of course I asked Ricki nonchalantly on my arrival, if she had any trouble finding the right building.
“No. Of course not. I told you I knew where sis lives….”

The Pigeon

“What’s that noise?” Ricki asked, as we heard the cooing of a pigeon this afternoon.
“A pigeon”, I answered, as I went to the window to check out where the bird was. As much as I enjoy seeing birds, these birds have a reputation for bringing some type of worms wherever they build their nests, so I wanted to discourage them from building on my windowsill. Opening the window slats was surely a discouragement, as one flew away immediately. The other stayed put, and Ricki came over to look. “What’s that?” she queried, pointing at his beak.
“A twig.”
“A twig?!?”
“Yeah. For building a nest….”
“Oh, he wants to have a home…..”

What I enjoyed the most about the above exchange was that Ricki was asking, thinking, and reacting to something unrelated to her everyday life.

Bus Stories: 2

Relinquishing the “Single” Seat
A few days ago I was on a bus to another part of the Tel Aviv metropolis. The bus was full; nearly all the seats were taken, and many of the travelers were standing. So I stood next to the few single chairs which are on the front left side. I am used to standing next to these chairs, because two years ago they were the only chairs I would use. .(If I would have sat in a double seat, I would “overflow” it, thus effectively rendering the seat next to mine inaccessible.) I was waiting for one of the single seat occupants to get off, ready to “pounce” on any of the single chairs if they would be vacated.
Then I noticed a very overweight man was also standing next to the row of single chairs. And at the same time I realized: “He can not, will not, sit elsewhere. But I CAN.” So I walked further into the bus, and chose a half of a double seat to sit in. I am hereby relinquishing any and all need for the single seats…..

Bus Stories: 1

One day about three weeks ago I traveled top Jerusalem by bus. And it just so happened that it was a day that many people traveled, so the bus, which often has a few empty seats, started filling up.
[Now even though I have lost a lot of weight, and I don’t REALLY “flow over” to the next seat, I fit into one seat just barely. This means that if the person next to me is to be comfortable, and have plenty of room, they need to be thin.]
So as the bus started filling up, I started hoping that someone REALLY thin would sit by me, fearing that the last passenger to board, if even moderately overweight, and if forced to sit by me, would feel uncomfortable. One of the last passengers to board was of average size, and she sat next to me. She said “hello” very nicely, made a comment or two, and opened a book. The trip passed uneventfully, and when she departed she smiled and said “It was nice sitting with you.”
This lady made my day. Just with a few short words. Which made me wonder how many people may feel that they are a “bother” to others, not appreciated by their neighbors. A just a few words would make them feel SSSOOO much better. Let’s try and give this a try, and do it ourselves.

In the Park

Yesterday I was walking in the national park, and I saw several interesting people and scenes:
First I noticed a group of about 8 or 9 elderly men, sitting around a large table set up on the lawn. They were playing cards, talking, laughing, and apparently having a great time.
Not far from them I saw a young man and his dog, sitting on a bench, shared with what appeared to be his elderly parents. He seemed unhurried, and simply glad to share some time with his folks.
Further on in the park I saw a middle-aged couple, lounging near the lake in lawn chairs, having a picnic brunch.
The last “couple” I noticed was a younger woman pushing a stroller, and smiling She was accompaning an obviously grumpy old man. She however appeared calm and unhurried.

People enjoying people. All out in the sun.

The Eyeglasses (Again!)

About a week and a half ago Ricki again lost her eyeglasses. This time, though, she was concerned, and showed me where she had put them down (when straightening out her schoolbag). So we ordered two new pairs, choosing the very cheapest frames. I paid for them, and was informed that the glasses would be ready on Wednesday.
Several times early in the week, Ricki asked if the glasses were ready, and after asking a few times, progressed to just a “check”: “They will be ready on Wednesday, right?”
Wednesday noon, it so happened, Ricki’s dress got very dirty, and she came home from school to change. And on the way back to school, on her own, she simply popped into the optometrists and picked up the glasses……

The Trudge

Ricki was in a rather contrary mood this morning. I can’t figure out anything that set her off; she simple was in a bad mood. Well, we all have days like that, but with Ricki they are becoming more and more frequent. (That’s one of the reasons we have started taking her to a psychologist. All the good parenting and positive messages in the world just do not seem to be enough for her right now, probably due to the poor mental health of a different family member.)
She fought with me on nearly everything, and early on I confiscated the key to the front door so that she could not leave for school until she looked decent (ie, had put on a bra and combed the tangles from her hair). Luckily she enjoys school, so the specter of not being allowed out the front door finally got her going.
However, she had wasted enough time that she was going to miss her ride, and when I warned her of the fact, she shrugged it off as if it was all a figment of my dark imagination. As she left the house I could hear the driver honking downstairs, but by the time I reached the window (where I could signal to him that she was on her way), he was gone. Ricki ambled peaceably to the corner, and I decided NOT to tell her that she had missed her ride; it would increase her anger, and I am hoping that by the time she reaches the school, her Concerta will have “kicked in” ,and that she will be in a mellower mood.
After about a five minute wait, I saw her turn and start the trudge to school (a twenty minute walk). And you know, despite the fact that she behaved atrociously this morning, I still felt sorry for her. Because I love her. (But because I love her, I also will let her experience the consequences of her behavior.)

Contest Winners/ Explanation

The first piece has four scenes which are (slightly) related. I suspect that the reason no one caught on completely is because I did not have the ability to make the vases as I reaklly wanted them. I wanted them to be more pear-shaped. I am a childbirth (Lamaze) Teacher, and after Ricki's birth, for years now, I have wanted to do this piece of work (the four-part piece). The vases are wombs, and the families shown are:
Closeup of far left: The large family (despite society's concern the mother really nurtures them all with her embrace)

The second scene:The woman without children, crying and praying for offspring, and who may feel as if her blood is being shed.....


Note that the entire work was done in brown clay except for one bit which was done with white clay (the white flower): This is the family with a special-needs child


The far right scene can be well seen on the picture of the complete piece. It is the mother who has only a single child.
The second, smaller piece is one scene, and here it is showing a family where one of the children is leaving behind his religious roots, his "Leaves" are like wings, but his mother is reaching out, tearfully, to try (unsucessfully) to catch him.


Square Peg 613 was the closest in "catching on", but I can see that I have a long way to go before becoming an artist! LOL!

Secretariat and Seabiscuit

This week I wasted some time watching a movie, “Secretariat”. I really didn’t have the time, but last year I had seen (and enjoyed) the movie “Seabuscuit”, and decided to “make the time” to see “Secritariat”. Both are movies trumpeting the success of a race horse (and their owners), largely with a message of “If you will it, it will be”. But I felt that there was a very subtle difference in the tone of the movies.
In seabuscuit, the message that a “damaged” horse and rider are still worthwhile is loud and clear. The decision to keep the jockey despite his vision problem is a prime example. But there is a much bigger difference. In seabuscuit, several of the scenes show the training period, the intense preparations. In “Secretariat” this is notably absent. Instead we see the fierce determination of the owner to win (even when the whole effort is apparently impacting on her relationship with her husband and family). [ Yes, determination is important, but the question arises: “At what price?”] But the near absence of scenes from training sessions seems to lead the viewer to a message of “determination is paramount”. And I hate to say it, but it isn’t. Because determination is limited in what it can obtain.
For example, take dieting. A good resolve to diet and lose weight is good. But if you don’t match that determination with getting enough sleep, exercising, having vegetables on hand, and finding non-food alternatives to stress, determination is not likely to get you very far. If you REALLY want to do something, you will need to take the necessary steps to get there.

A Real Banana

The other day I saw Ricki take a banana, and after peeling it, mash it up. I was rather surprised, as her nephew was out, and there were no other babies around to feed---or so I thought.
Ricki gathered a spoon, and taking the banana went to the high chair and proceeded to “feed” the banana to some imaginary child. Then, before I could stop her, she tossed it, after about five minutes, into the trash. I don’t mind the game, but I wish that she had saved the food….

RE: “Rushing By”: Not as Bad as I Thought

In September I posted about how it took me about an hour to reach a park my step-daughter could reach in about half the time. Recently I have realized that the way I walked to the national park was a bit “round about”. Last week I walked there by a more direct walk, reaching there in a bit under an hour, which would be about 45 minutes from my step-daughter’s house. So the difference in our walking rate is NOT 1 60/30 minutes, but 45/30. It sounds a bit better, doesn’t it? (But I still wonder why the difference bothers me. After all, I AM 30 years her senior…..)

Telling It Like It Is…./ Progress

Telling It Like It Is
Yesterday morning there was a break in the rain, so I got out to “stretch my legs”. After the first half hour or so, I stopped by the house and urged Ricki to join me for a slow walk. After a bit of prodding, she agreed to come.
However, each puddle we passed, she (like any two-year old) stomped into it on purpose. Finally I Brain-washed her told her like it is:
“Ricki, only little girls walk into rain puddles. Nearly-adult teen girls AVOID puddles, because they don’t want to ruin their shoes….”

Guess what? She stopped stepping into the water. I did it right…….

Progress
Also yester day I played a game with Ricki (“Li Mi Yeesh”) where one has to describe an object, without naming it. [ie, a saw would be called “a work tool that you can cut wood with…” or the like] In the past, Ricki has invariably blurted out the name of the object, and has had trouble GIVING a description (although she has been able to follow my descriptions for years already…). Well, yesterday she had NO problem giving directions, and won the game hands down. (GRIN!)

The Two Brothers

I noticed them as I was nearing my house after a pleasant walk a week ago on Saturday. They were walking in the middle of the street (EVERYONE does that here on shabbas (sat); there are no cars), and from the similarity of their faces, it was obvious that they were brothers. And they were laughing a lively only-we-understand–the-joke laugh. I guessed that the boys were about 9 or ten, or twelve. Both were dressed in the standard white shirts and black pants worn here by nearly everyone, although one of them still stood out. The younger sibling walked with a limping, twisted walk, and was slightly bent. And his face was slightly contorted.
But they were having a hell of a good time. But what I noticed most was the older, “normal” sibling. He was not looking around, glancing at others, or noticing that they were being “noticed”. Rather than hiding in normalcy, rather than trying to keep his brother quiet, the older sibling was enjoying time with his brother, and seemingly doing it with a “I’ll-be-damned-if –I-care” attitude.
I didn’t just see two brothers. I witnessed love.

Lots of Ideas, No Time

I have several posts planned, but right now no time to write them...
Meanwhile, I wish a few more of my regular readers would try to "interpert" my ceramic piece, trying to be as specific as you can. Hint: Regular readers of the blog are more likely to guess correctly.

Ricki's photos -A Trip to the Port City of Ashdod

Ricki had a trip today, and she took a few pictures. At first I was impressed that she hadn't wasted a lot of shots as she always does. But I was equally puzzled that she only took photos of objects, and not of her friends. I quickly solved the puzzle by checking the batteries... and yes, they were depleated. But the shots she DID take were all good.

A Contest (Guessing Game?)

I am posting pictures here of my latest ceramic work- a “picture”! The first reader to correctly figure out what these images represent will hopefully receive (I will try) a piece of ceramic work from me.
And before you comment, NO, they are NOT upside down.
The first piece has four scenes which are (slightly) related.
Closeup of far left:

The second scene:


Note that the entire work was done in brown clay except for one bit which was done with white clay (the white flower):

The far right scene can be well seen on the picture of the complete piece.
The second, smaller piece is one scene:

The Punishment

Yesterday evening I was supposed to take Ricki shopping for new shoes- an activity I was sure that she would be enthusiastic about. The same morning, she had acted VERY sassy towards me, but I refrained from dishing out a punishment so as not to give her the pleasure of getting a reaction from me.
On her return from her afternoon group, I noticed that she had grabbed 6 (SIX!) pieces of bread, so I quickly informed her that I did not agree to such indulgences and unhealthy eating, and insisted that she return the bread to me. She didn’t, so I offered the ultimate consequence: “If you don’t return the bread, we won’t go she shopping today.” And to my horror, it didn’t work. Monday would have been by far the easiest day for me to do the shopping, but the die had been cast. We did not going shopping.
Remind me if she misbehaves Thursday to think of a DIFFERENT consequence, FAST!

Personal Freedom Vs Personal Responsibility

Yesterday afternoon Ricki came breezing in the door at 2:30 in the afternoon, announcing that she was no longer going to her afternoon program “except on Tuesdays”. A quick round of questions showed that this was a choice made on a slight whim; she has nothing against the program. Last year when she stopped going, she was not enjoying the program, but that is not the case now.
So I decided that Ricki needed to learn a bit of responsibility. After all, when she some day has a job, I don’t want her deciding on her own when she will go and not (unless of course there is a valid reason). So, first I explained that she had not talked to me about coming home early; she could have arrived to a locked door. Then I walked her over to the program, even though doing so put a definite dent into my day’s schedule. She was happy to go, but here the point was that you don’t just change your mind daily. One needs to take commitments and choices seriously….

“Walking” on Shabbas

There are several halachic aspects (pertaining to Orthodox Jewish religious law) which apply to “walking” for exercise on shabbas. When my neighbor heard that I “walk” on shabbas, she noted that the practice was forbidden. Actually, it is not so simple, and as I explained to her, I do not *REALLY* walk on shabbas- my walking on the Sabbath day is slower (not strenuous) and generally of a lesser amount. And I don’t go out “walking” if I don’t feel like it.
Rabbi Neuwirth in "Shmirath Shabbath Kehilchatha" writes that he heard from Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, shlita, that if the person enjoys the exercise it is permitted for him to do it on Shabbat. And that is the main reason I walk on shabbas--- walking makes me feel better physically AND mentally. The fact that I know that it is good for my health is irrelevant.
However, there can be other problems. If one walks outside of the area of the eruv, one can not carry drink, tissues, or the like. Also in non-religious neighborhoods (but a Jewish community), one needs to be careful when crossing a street not to cause a driver to brake because of you. And sometimes this is much easier said than done. Often the only way is to stand aside and appear to not want to cross the street at all, and then to dash across when no cars are coming--- which yesterday, at one corner, caused me a several-minutes-long break.
Another problem with exercise "walking" on shabbas, is that if something unforeseen happens, you may be stuck a good walk from home, and no way to get back there besides walking back. For example, yesterday for the first time in ages, I went walking in a non-religious area. I had a sudden urge to walk over to the national park, and since I REALLY felt up to it, and wanted to go, I did, although I took care to walk slower than usual. When I was a good 45 minutes away from the house I slipped and fell (the pavement was wet). Luckily I was not hurt, but as I got up I was initially horrified to realize that I had slipped on dog droppings. I panicked, thinking that if my clothes had gotten dirty, I was stuck to remain that way until I returned home. LUCKILY my clothes were clean, and I was able to continue on to my destination. Subsequently, on the way home, a second “unexpected” occurrence popped up. The beautifully sunny sky became clouded, and a downpour started. I dashed under the nearest building for cover, and after 5 minutes the rain stopped, and I was able to continue home. So if you are a Sabbath observer, and you “walk” on shabbas, BE CAREFUL!

Three is a Party!

Part of the reason I have been so busy lately is because Y and D’s older brother, who currently resides in the US, is here. And Y has a month off from the army… and D came home for weekend leave at 7AM rather than 7 PM. So I made pizza for lunch, and it was so nice having all the big strapping roosters (I can hardly call these taller-than-me kids “chicks”, can I???) “under my wing”!

“When You Believe”

I recently read a review of Mariah Carey’s work, by someone bemoaning her syrupy songs, indicating that her sexy ones are better. Well, I like the syrup ones… Recently I came across “When You Believe”.
As is my custom, I have my own interpretation of the message….and to me it is an anthem of strength for anyone going through a situation that is not likely to change significantly in the near future…. So here are the words of the song, along with my comments, and a video of the song is beneath that….

Many nights we've prayed
(It seems that we turn to G-d most when we feel that we are in a “night”)
With no proof anyone could hear
(We know that G-d hears, but since we don’t always “see” an answer, sometimes we feel that No One is listening….)
In our hearts a hopeful song
(Yet we hope for G-d’s help)
We barely understood

Now we are not afraid
(We need not be afraid because we trust that whatever happens will be for our ultimate good)
Although we know there's much to fear
(There are so many things that can go “wrong” in our lives)
We were moving mountains long
(Once we truly started to turn our lives over to G-d’s will – 12 steps style- we found the power to move the mountains within us)
Before we knew we could
(We suddenly realized that we had an internal strength far beyond any we imagined having….)


There can be miracles, when you believe
(When you believe in your ability to change for the better, you can find the strength to do so)
Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill
(Sometimes our self-belief—and trust in G-d - is frail)
Who knows what miracles you can achieve
(But you will be amazed at the changes you can make inside**)
When you believe, somehow you will
You will when you believe


In this time of fear
(When we fear something—feeling inadequate….)
When prayers so often prove(s) in vain
(Sometimes we expect G-d to make an easy “instant” cure… and that is not the response we get from G-d)
Hope seems like the summer birds
Too swiftly flown away
(We suddenly realize that G-d is not going to solve everything for us, we suddenly realize that our hopes for all to be “OK” just isn’t going to happen…)

Yet now I'm standing here
(Yet we learn to survive in a situation that is less than perfect)
My heart's so full I can't explain
(Yet the changes I make in myself to deal with a given situation makes me OH SO MUCH STRONGER)
Seeking faith and speaking words
I never thought I'd say
(I sometimes acknowledge that as hard as things are at times, and as much as I fight the thought of enduring this situation, I admit that it has improved me as a person)

There can be miracles, when you believe
Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles you can achieve
When you believe, somehow you will
You will when you believe


They don't (always happen) when you ask
(G-d doesn’t always make the “wrong” go away)
And it's easy to give in to your fears
(That we can’t manage)
But when you're blinded by your pain
(Yes, sometimes G-d gives us a painful situation)
Can't see your way straight through the rain
(We feel oh so lost)
(A small but )still resilient voice
(Yet inside that spark of holiness that G-d planted in us)
Says (hope is very near)
(reminds us)

There can be miracles (Miracles)
(The miracle that we adapt and achieve happiness within, in spite of it all)
When you believe (Lord, when you believe)
(When we believe in G-d enough to realize that even this trial is His will)
Though hope is frail (Though hope is frail)
(Even when we initially find it hard to believe that we can find moments of contentment, self assurance, and happiness in the midst of this test)
It's hard to kill (Hard to kill, Ohhh)

Who knows what miracles, you can achieve
When you believe, somehow you will (somehow, somehow, somehow)
somehow you will
(YES YOU CAN!)
You will when you believe

You will when you
You will when you believe
Just believe...in your heart
Just believe
You will when you believe

** Because, realistically that is the ONLY change we have control over. We can not force others to bend to our will, we can not force others to do what is right… we ultimately can only control ourselves. But that is hopefully enough….

Humph, Stomp, Stomp….

About an hour and a half ago, shortly before Ricki left for school, I noticed a large gaily wrapped “gift” in one of her bags. Immediately I understood that further investigation was imperative. And in addition, I noted that she was wearing a lovely pair of gloves… that were not hers. I assumed that the gloves belonged to a classmate, and after badgering her for a few minutes, she removed them, throwing them on the floor of her room. I later retrieved them, in order to take them myself to her school (as part of my exercise walk today or tomorrow), in order to ensure their return to the proper owner.
The package was harder to deal with, but when Ricki realized that I would not unlock the front door of the house before investigating the packaged contents of her bag, she reluctantly relented.
Within was some packaged plastic item, the use of which was unknown to me, but obviously something belonging to one of Ricki’s older brothers. Upon it’s confiscation, Ricki disappeared for a few moments, and returned wrapping up something new. It was my new weekday necklace. (Which makes me fear that a new necklace I purchased recently for shabbas wear, and noted to be missing yesterday, may be far away and gone by now….) Upon confiscation of my necklace, Ricki angrily stomped out of the house, sticking her tongue out at me, and calling me “retarded”. (Unfortunately, in her years of inclusion, she learned that this is an “appropriate” canard…..)
THEN, with the emotional frailty of a child, she turned to me to receive her daily “going out the door” hug. Now I am a big believer in sending children off to school in a good mood. And I accept apologies easily. But here there was no regret, and I felt that Ricki needs to learn that if you are mean to others, and insult them, they will not always let “bygones be bygones”. So I refused to hug her. After two attempts, she turned, cursing royally, and stomped down the stairs. Of course, by then she had missed her ride to school, and I can only hope that after trudging the four and a half blocks to school that she will be in a better mood.
[And it turned out that the gloves belong to her visiting brother (who currently lives in the US).]

Long Absence

I know that I have been ignoring this blog for the last two weeks. Unfortunately, certain things in my private life have been keeping me busier than usual.
The biggest change is that Ricki has returned to her afternoon program which she dropped out of almost a year ago. I haven’t had the time recently to do as many activities as I once did with her, and Ricki has been bored. So when I suggested that she return to the afternoon program, even if she is not in the same group as her classmates, she readily agreed.
She has been attending the program for a few days and seems to be enjoying it fully. This is a G-dsend for me at this moment, as it allows me to center on other things right now. But it does mean that I see less of Ricki, and will probably have fewer stories to relate in the meantime……

Alternative Medicines and Therapies

On MSNBC there was an article about a study documenting cases of adverse reactions to alternative (like “natural” and homeopathic) medications. The main danger was discontinuement of needed conventional treatment for illnesses (which sometimes led to death), but adverse reactions where not unheard of. As the MSNBC article said: “Unlike conventional medicines, whose side effects are tracked by national surveillance systems, there are no such systems in place for alternative therapies.”
We live in a society that expects medicine to have an answer to all our ills (even as we often simultaneously abuse our bodies with inactivity and horrendous diet, cigarettes, etc). Let us face the fact that medicine does not have an answer to every problem. HOWEVER, the medical and drug industry does try to give treatments that are effective, and effectiveness is proved not through word-of-mouth, but by controlled studies.
I have written about this subject before (three years ago), HERE.
(Please read this previous article if you haven’t yet.)

Not Freaking Out (or overeating) When Under Stress

As some of you have commented, I was pretty much AWOL from online-life this last week. Lots has been going on here lately (no connection to Ricki), and I have been not only busy, but under a lot of stress.
When the situation arose one of my first fears was that the tension would trigger an overeating binge. Many overweight people, myself included, have used food as a comfort measure in times of stress, not withstanding the ultimate discomfort overweight causes. A true addiction.
So I immediately decided to try and pre-empt the overeating urge by actively seeking out other alternate coping measures. One was to load my MP3 player with good music.
But I discovered another, terrific “way to deal with stress” tool for dieters. On Sunday someone said something that REALLY got me upset. My stomach was “in knots”, and it was taking all of my willpower not to head for the frozen cake in the freezer. But I had a class I needed to go to, and I headed out the door, deciding to walk to the “main drag” in order to get the remainder of my 10,0000 daily steps in. Within 5 minutes I felt happy, healthy, and calm. Ans as an additional bonus, I was AWAY from the food…..
Brisk walking is good for you. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Try a few turns around the block next time you are upset…..

The Babysitter

Ricki was helping me babysit her nephew the other day.
Overheard was the following monologue (the nephew’s vocabulary is still limited to ‘Mom” and “Dad”):

I’m reading you a storybook…. Look how nice!... See the mommy in the chair?.... This is a good book, right?....No, look HERE….[reads some of the text]….Don’t cry, Mommy is returning soon…..[reads a bit more text]….See, it’s a nice book isn’t it?......Look at this!...[a bit more text]…..Do you like the book?...

My Great Sons and an Innocent “Chanukiah” Story

[Note (terms): “Chanukiah” is the Hebrew term for the menorah lit during the holiday of Hanukah.]
“D” and “Y” are no longer Torah-observant, although they are polite enough to keep many things when they are at home. I knew that when they would be here on leave, they would light a Hanukah menorah, but I wanted to encourage them to do so when in the army as well. So I made for each of then a nice chanukiah from ceramics, one of “spinning tops” design for “Y”, and a “Jerusalem” one for “D”. “D” seemed touched, and promised me that he would light his, while “Y” just basically said “Nice!”, without commenting on any use. I surely didn’t pressure them, nor ask further. (I don't have a picture of "Y"'s menorah, "D"'s -which was nicer- you can see HERE.)
Fast-forward a few weeks later to Hanukkah. I had already noted that “D”’s chanukiah resting on the computer table in the boy’s room, and thought to myself “Well, I quess “D” was trying to be polite, but I never asked him to lie….So much for his promise to light….” When “Y” arrived home for the weekend, I urged him to ready his chanukiah, so his father wouldn’t feel burdened by the need to prepare his as well as his own. After a few moments, he reappeared with D’s menorah, sheepishly stating that he couldn’t find his. Of course I wondered to myself how much could he like the carefully crafted homemade chanukiah if he had lost it already?? But of course I made no verbal comment…..
Several days later, for the last night of the holiday, “D” finally arrived home from the army. I told him to ready his “chanukiah” , as I had told his brother a few days previously. “I can’t,” he said, “I’m sorry to inform you that I broke it by accident at the base….”

“D” HAD taken “his” chanukiah” to light… just the wrong one. And “Y” couldn’t find his because “D” had taken it. Innocent of all charges……


[PS. I promised Y a new menorah, to replace the one his brother broke, and gave him a choice of design... he chose "autos"!]

Rain and Walking and Shecheyanu

Thank G-d. we have rain. That's one "shecheyanu"*
Despite the rainy weather, I got out to walk (Sunday), although my aerobic steps were a bit slow, as I was afraid to slip on wet pavement.

We also had 50 knot winds.
Finally I am able to wear some of all those new winter outfits I bought myself.....GRIN. Another shecheyanu!

* "shecheanu" is a Hebrew blessing made (amoung other things) on happy occaisions, and on wearing new clothes. In this blessing we praise G-d for enebling us to reach this milestone or event. In addition, when something long-awaited arrives (like today's rain), we may make joke about saying "shecheyanu".

Magic Marker Monday- Candle Art

This was a project Ricki did on Hanukah,but similar things could be done for any occaision celebrated with candles.
Ricki took black poster board, put smiley stickers on it (made it much nicer, and it was HER idea to add them....). Then we added cut-out shapes of candles.Finally on the candles she added various regular and 3-demensional stickers.
You will find more of "Magic Marker Monday" HERE.

The Winds Blow

Winter has arrived in Israel at long last. Despite the cold and VERY strong winds (50 knots in some places), no one is complaining as we need the rain so desperately.
This morning before waking Ricki I turned on the heater in the bath, and for breakfast I made her favorite breakfast, pancakes. Not surprisingly, she left the house in an excellent mood, the best I’ve seen her in for ages. I sent her downstairs a few minutes early to be sure that she wouldn’t miss her ride… and 7 minutes later she entered our building to ask “Where is he already?”, and missed her ride. Now she will walk to school on her own (it is not far, and in Israel it is much safer than in the US). I hope it won’t rain for just 15 minutes because if she opens her umbrella it will turn inside out in a moment…..
* * * * *
My new soldier-son “Y” will find out today where he will be serving for at least the next half year in the army, possibly in a “supportive” role (and later he may switch back to a regular combat soldier as he had originally requested). However, instead of being in the “Givati” section , he may be in the parachutist’s section. (Not that they do much parachuting, in general they are regular combat soldiers…) As he gets up this morning I will sadly inform him that a soldier from that division was seriously injured last night , foiling a terrorist infiltration attempt. In a house somewhere in Israel, the winds of trouble are blowing. May this soldier have a speedy and easy recovery.

Getting a PhD in Life

[image: My wonderful son "D",bareheaded, lighting the Hanukah menorah]
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Very few of us get through life without some big challenge- and often more than one. A few days ago I turned 59 (I can’t believe that I am almost 60!), and as I look back on my life, I feel that I am working towards my PhD. Looking for a spouse was course 101 in emuna and bitachon (belief and faith). Having a child drop out of high school and almost “go off the derech” ( choose a different way of life style than us) was another level- class 201. Ricki’s birth was 301, and the fight for her inclusion, which was a bitter and long battle, was 401. Having several children truly become irreligious was already a masters. And a certain ongoing trial which I deal with , I feel, is my coursework towards my PhD in life. And I have learned a lot. In fact, as I told one of my older children recently, I am absolutely astounded at some of the choices I made 15 years ago, and I pray that if I were to be faced with similar problems today, my reactions would be much more empathetic, assertive, and sensible.
Simply said, life is never perfect, and we have the chance and ability to grow and improve our midos (character) as we travel along.
[image: The lights, the last evening of Hanukah.]
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Last night as I gazed at the Chanukah lights, I thought that this is one of the real messages that the holiday has to bequeath to us. There are often battles… and there is no Pollyanna promise from G-d that if we do His will, our lives will be easy. But those brightly burning lights can remind us of the flame of our soul, the strength that G-d implanted within us to persevere, and to hope, to struggle, and to grow, as (quoting Rav Salanter, who quoted the shoemaker working by oil-lamp light), “As long as the light burns, it is possible to fix.”

The Movie Performance

On Sunday evening I took Ricki to one of the innumerable films playing at various locations in the city as entertainment for Chanukah. I knew in advance that I would not be “missing” anything if I would skip this Orthodox- filmed play. The quality is so far below that I am used to, growing up in America, that I am invariably disappointed. But Ricki enjoys these plays (even if she often doesn’t really manage to comprehend the plot), so I took her. But something strange happened in the middle.
In this film, a supposedly very religious teen prays sincerely to G-d, and lo and behold three miracles occur by the end of the film. Not one, but THREE. [As an aside, I am wondering how educational these films are. Do we really want to raise a generation with such an infantile attitude towards G-d? I mean, I hate to say it, but “miracle on demand” is not the way G-d generally runs things. And if you grow up thinking that it is, will the first time hitting a “brick wall” of seemingly unanswered prayer not totally derail their belief system????] Anyway, back to the movie- at one point the heroine breaks out in a song of emmuna and betachon (fervent belief), and this umpteenth rendition of the time hit much of the older teen audience as ludicrous (which it was), and they started laughing. Ricki, however, was crying. She understood that the other protagonists in the story were ill, and she was crying for them. I was stuck by the opposed responses of the “normal” teens and of Ricki., and pondered why it should be so. The answer is obvious. Everyone else was 100% sure that this is only a story, and one which they understand will “work out” in the end. The producers would NEVER let the ill teen character die. A happy conclusion is a forgone conclusion.
In Ricki’s case, the blurring of comprehension between what is true and what is fictional makes it all much more “real” to her. And she doesn’t understand that the producers have a miracle tucked up their sleeves…..

Chanukah Magic Marker Monday

Ricki happened to be home yesterday, so we had extra time for crafts. She had made a few days ago a candlestick from plaster (a doubled mold, pieces stuck together with more plaster). Yesterday she painted it red and then with red sparkle. And a small jug she painted blue. Later she added stickers to that.
Later that night we went to see a filmed play, and my blog on that will have to wait until (at least) tomorrow, as it is VERY late and I have to get to sleep!
You will find more of "Magic Marker Monday HERE.

Heros

PS, Unrelated to this post. I want to express concern and admiration for the firefighters in the Carmel region. They are true heros.

As I have mentioned before, I like the song "hero" by Maria Carey. (Even though most of her videos are absolutely obscene...) Here is a video of the song. Below it I have typed the words , with additional comments on my own for dieters. PS. Even though this video just shows her singing (no nude scenes), it does obviously contain Kol Isha (woman singing) and is not suitable for Orthodox Jewish men.



THERE’s a Hero (“HERO”) (song of Maria Carey)
There's a hero If you look inside your heart (Diet is only going to work if YOU change)
You don't have to be afraid Of what you are (OK, I’m fat, but I am created in the image of G-d)
There's an answer If you reach into your soul (Yes, there IS an answer)
And the sorrow that you know Will melt away (You don’t have to live with recriminations)

And then a hero comes along With the strength to carry on (G-d can give us strength)
And you cast your fears aside (Don’t even allow yourself to voice your doubts. BELIEVE that you WILL change)
And you know you can survive (Life is still good and enjoyable. A diet is not a prison term)
So when you feel like hope is gone (because you didn’t lose this week)
Look inside you and be strong (Just keep going)
And you'll finally see the truth That a hero lies in you.

It's a long road (Losing 75-80 kilo won’t happen overnight)
When you face the world alone (NO ONE can do it for you. You have to do this for YOURSELF)
No one reaches out a hand For you to follow (You are often alone, and “no one sees”, and YOU have to be your own policeman)
You can find love (For yourself, even when you are not perfect)
If you search within yourself (You will discover true love for yourself, which means protecting your health)
And the emptiness you felt Will disappear (You will see that you WANT to live healthily)

And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth That a hero lies in you. Lord knows Dreams are hard to follow (It won’t always be easy)
But don't let anyone Tear them away (even the nay-sayers, even our own doubts)
Hold on There will be tomorrow (YES I WILL SUCEED)
In time You'll find the way (Bit by bit, lb. by lb)

And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth That a hero lies in you (Yes, I am a Hero!!!! I CAN DO IT!)

Happy Channukkah!/ Special Exposure Wednesday

I had hoped to have a picture of Ricki doing channukah crafts for "special exposure Wednesday",, but we never got around this week to crafts (yet). So here are two more pictures of Ricki from our recent trip to Jerusalem:
[images: Ricki in the old city of Jerusalem


You will find more of "Special Exposure Wednesday" HERE.
And finally, in honor of Channukah which starts this evening (Wednesday evening), a hanukkah menorah which I made in my ceramics class:
[images: two views of chanukiah, Jerusalem motive]