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Archive for August, 2007

School supply survival guide

How can six-year-olds can keep track of all this stuff? (Of course I know the answer.) For first-grade in Israel you need the discipline of a first-year recruit.

School supply list:

  • Ten 40-page notebooks “esser shurot” (10 lines), a math notebook, and ten plastic covers (not eleven?) If you can find the cheap ones with the brown covers, buy them. The plastic “atifot” help them last longer and the teachers provide decorative pages to slip under the transparent covers, making them easy to identify. Of course they don’t need 40 pages. There are at least six different kinds of notebook paper, and I often come home with the wrong kind.

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Have you heard of sleevies?

Have you heard of sleevies?
I’ve seen women wearing short sleeves over 3/4, and I wondered how they managed in the heat. Now I know. Sleevies.

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Minimizing children’s pain

Treppenwitz posts about the common Hebrew expression used by parents when kids have minor scrapes:”Lo kara kloom,” or “It’s nothing.” Since his blog decided to eat up my comments, I’m responding here.

“Lo kara kloom” is a way of comforting a child and sending him the messsage that everything is okay. But it is often used to minimize or ignore genuine emotions.

Many parents overreact when when their kids get hurt. Yet underreacting can be just as
harmful. Have you ever been upset about a situation, only to be told that it’s nothing? Years ago I was in a car accident; my ribs were badly bruised and painful. For many reasons, the accident was traumatic and it took me a month to recover. I resented the friends who, instead of acknowledging my feelings, implied that I should get over it and be glad that the accident wasn’t more serious. I knew that; I was grateful, but I still suffered. (Actually, the only one who really understood was my own mother a”h.)

I once saw a little boy in the park bump his head on a piece of equipment. Hard. The mother didn’t comfort him, pick him up, nor acknowledge his very real pain in any way. While he screamed hysterically, the mother kept repeating a variation of “lo kara kloom:” “It doesn’t hurt, you’re fine, you don’t need to cry.” Is this a way of toughening up boys?

Our job as parents is to recognize when our children are going to pick themselves up after a fall and skip off, and when they need cuddling and sympathy. It starts when they are babies: Do we recognize that they are crying for a reason, or do we assume that they are manipulating us?

By reflecting children’s feelings, and giving them a proper dose of sympathy or comfort, we help them learn when they can manage on their own and when they need our help. But we need to keep in mind that what looks to us like “kloom” (nothing) may actually be “mashehu” (something).

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We survived our camping trip

We had planned to go camping for two nights with the four younger kids, but chickened out and left after the first night. This was despite the fact that I knew I would have to admit it on the blog. Thanks for the comments and tips on the previous post.

I hadn’t realized how civilized modern camping can be, with the sophisticated tents, showers, and even a kiosk. No hole in the ground for a bathroom like I remember from “machane chutz” at Camp Stone in the 70s. Some American campgrounds even offer wireless internet access.

We walked on a 45-minute trail around the park leading to an ancient flour mill, but somehow missed the mill. We collected wood and grilled hotdogs over a bonfire. The food worked out–I packed the cooler with ice-filled 1.5 liter yogurt containers and some loose cubes, and the food stayed cold for over 24 hours. (You see, I’m already experienced enough to give tips myself.) The kids slept, but we didn’t because a) our air mattress had a small hole and by the middle of the night we were directly on the ground and b) it was hot. Those tents are synthetic and you really feel protected (neighboring campers said they saw a scorpion last year) but they don’t let in much air. Apparently the mosquitoes were also hot because they stayed away from Park Hayarden. We did see a stray, hungry-looking dog though, who went away after a while. I called to complain about it but I don’t know if they did anything.

In the morning my husband began asking other campers about a minyan (prayer quorum). He was invited to daven with a group, but as they seemed to be in no hurry he decided to pray on his own. We found out that sepharadim blow the shofar during selichot (daily penitentiary prayers before the High Holidays) and not just after davening like the Ashkenazim. It was cool to hear the shofar in the camp. My husband’s minhag (custom) also doesn’t involve selichot for another week and we were glad he didn’t wait around for that minyan, which took two hours.

When we called the office to ask about the advisability leaving our tent up during the day, they recommended taking it with us. Once we packed up it was hard to contemplate doing the whole thing over again, even if we had found a new, slightly cooler, locale. (We thought Hurshat Tal was overpriced at NIS 40/person compared to a flat parking fee at Park Hayarden. Also, we weren’t sure we wanted to take a chance on something new.) And we were Just. So. Tired. So after we visited Tel Dan, we began to make our way back home.

The kids had fun and want to camp again during Chanukah.

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Insanity

After deciding that the only reasonably priced way to go on vacation with a big family is to go camping, I bought a tent at Target and shlepped it home. Yesterday we practiced setting it up, and picked up a borrowed air mattress and cooler from friends. We leave tomorrow. Any tips are appreciated.

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Summer Watermelon Fruit Soup

While I’ll never know what my husband threw out during my recent trip to the US, I found only one obviously spoiled item–a small container of cooked beans. (And the kitchen was clean too.) I salvaged a few vegetables for a marinara sauce leaving me with some fruit, including an iffy-looking watermelon:Summer Watermelon Fruit SoupI decided to make a fruit soup. A comprehensive search yielded a soft mango, nectarines, a few apples, and half a lemon.

I cut the fruit into cubes:Summer Watermelon Fruit Soup
(The melon pictured is a red herring–I served it to the cooperative day camp that day. It was fresh and this variety of melon, similar to cranshaw, failed in my last fruit soup. We don’t have honeydew or cantaloupe here, not that I’ve used them for soup.)

I kept the yellow bowl handy for peels and seeds–I prefer throwing them from the bowl into the garbage over scooping them out of the sink afterward. I bought the cutting board, made in an Israeli kibbutz, for a bridal shower I never attended. It’s built so that the cubes and juice drop at an angle directly into a bowl fitting underneath.

I put the fruit cubes and lemon juice into the pressure cooker, covered them with water, and cooked the soup under pressure for ten minutes (equivalent to half an hour in a conventional pot). A microwave would work well for a small quantity. This particular fruit combination required no added sugar.Summer Watermelon Fruit SoupYou can use this technique for just about any amount and variety of fruit. I like to add pears, strawberries, summer fruits, or sour cherries from a jar.

Serve cold garnished with fresh mint.

I rarely make fruit soup anymore; instead I cook soft summer fruit like nectarines, peaches and plums in the microwave. Put sliced, unpeeled fruit in a large bowl (with no water), and stir every few minutes until the fruit is covered with juice. My kids love this either hot or cold. Try it with ice cream.

Have a cool summer.

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Chazan joke

A girl comes to her father and announces her marriage plans. When the father asks the boy’s occupation, the girl tells him that he is a chazan (cantor). The father says, “No daughter of mine will marry a chazan!” The girl and her mother cry and beg, but the father is adamant. He won’t consider a chazan for his daughter. Finally, they convince him to go to shul to hear the potential chassan (groom) in action. After the davening the father comes to his daughter and wishes her mazel tov. The daughter, delirious with joy, asks her father what changed his mind about her intended. He replied, “I heard him, and he’s no chazan!”

(Unfortunately, the bar mitzvah speaker who originally told this joke concluded by saying that the bar mitzvah boy was also no chazan, but had other wonderful qualities!)

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Jewish homemaking olympics?

I once heard a taped lecture where the speaker imagined an event in the fictional homemaking “olympics,” where a mother takes her two small children to the park. They must reach their goal without the tricycle and bicycle getting run over or full of dog doody. The speaker called it the olympics to emphasize the many intricate skills that mothers and homemakers must master.

What if there were a Jewish homemaking olympics? Readers who objected to the term superwoman might also feel intimidated by “olympics;” I don’t mean to focus on the competitive aspect. I want homemakers and their partners to appreciate the tremendous range of skills they develop to keep the house running smoothly. Or to keep it running at all.

An entire group of events would involve Pesach.

Here are some other possibilities for “Jewish Homemaking Olympics” categories:

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I wrote here about deciding which children to bring on my annual trip to the US. I wish I didn’t have to leave anyone home.

Initially my 13yo daughter was fine about watching her 6yo brother. But she cried and cried the evening I left. When I got home she kvetched about how hard she worked and how she got stuck at home when he got chickenpox. I had to remind my husband not to feel too sorry for her. She got a lot of attention and praise for taking care of him, and every time I spoke to the 6yo he was as cheerful as ever. And my 17yo son came home after a week. My friend pointed out to her that she should simply be grateful that I took the three-year-old with me. Still, she had a lot of responsibility for a girl her age, and she cared for the neighbor’s cat, too.


(My 11yo son at the Bronx Zoo.)
My daughter told me that when she grows up, she’ll go on vacation when her children get chickenpox. I replied that since I was visiting my father, the true lesson is the importance of visiting parents.

I’m not sure she bought it.

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Plea for help on Shalom Bayit blog

A reader of the Shalom Bayit blog asked me to post her story and get some suggestions.

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