Graduation and motherhood
My oldest son graduated from yeshiva high school last week. Brian Blum described his son’s party, and while our sons don’t attend the same school the emotions and experience are similar. Not to mention the disorganization. Our school misplaced the list of graduates and their plans for next year. so while they straightened this out we watched a 15-minute movie by the school’s film majors. Apparently the movie won a prize, and I thought it much better than the one my other son’s high school made the mothers suffer through. That one had been produced by a professional. The students’ film, based on a story by Isaac Bashevis Singer, is about a young engaged man who, in order to prove himself worthy of his fiancee’s family, must correctly render the complicated kiddush for a Shavuot falling on Motzei Shabbat (Sat. eve.). Unlike in Singer’s story, the film’s chatan (groom) spoke fluent Hebrew so unless he suffered from dyslexia I couldn’t quite see the problem. They handled this by portraying him as somewhat clumsy. After the holiday at the fiancee’s home, the potential father-in-law hands the young man a note for his father. Only the closing wedding music indicated the happy ending (at least to clueless me). After the film they took another hour and a half to hand out all of the diplomas, causing the graduation to end at close to 1am instead of at 11:30 as originally scheduled.
As so often happens in large families, two school events this week fell at exactly the same time: my 5yo’s graduation from gan and an “erev horim” celebrating my 11yo son’s class’s completion of Neviim Rishonim (early prophets). The fifth-graders wrote and produced four skits based on scenes from Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. (No, they make separate plays for I and II Samuel et al.) My son sang in the choir, but he knows the plays by heart and has been entertaining us. David takes out a gun, says, “Oh, guns haven’t been invented yet,” and pulls out the slingshot. After he kills Goliath, they congratulate him and give him a toffee.
My husband represented us at the gan graduation at my son’s insistence. My husband said that every other mother came but me. My son is a bit fickle, because yesterday when my daughter picked him up from gan he asked why she came and announced that he wants either Ima or a boy to pick him up. So today when he asked her to walk him to a friend she refused.
At least I’m not like the columnist in the women’s supplement of Makor Rishon last Friday, who asked his 3yo daughter which parent she loved more. When she said she loved his wife more, he got all insulted and blamed breastfeeding even though she’d weaned two years before. Ask a stupid question. . .
My own 3yo didn’t exhibit a gender preference when we left for the parties and said that she needed either a mother or a father (but not a brother or sister) to stay home with her.
My mother a”h used to say that even though children might say otherwise, when they are sick they always prefer their mothers.





