In Which My Daughter and I Are Happy

Glad Not to Have a Boy in This Dance

On the day before my first-grader’s siddur party to celebrate receiving her first prayer-book, she brought a note home from school. The teacher had written the following for my daughter to memorize: “I am honored to invite Mr. RH, head of the local education ministry, to say a few words.”  I asked her if she was happy to be chosen. “Why should I be happy?” she said. “YOU should be happy.”

My daughter really was excited about the party. Two years ago, my son got so fed up with rehearsals that he watched the performance with us, in the audience. At his party, they showed film clips of first-grade boys praying in the synagogue. The girls were filmed cleaning the house for Shabbat.

So I got nevous a few weeks before this year’s party when the boys in my daughter’s class were instructed to dress up as different occupations. The girls had to come as mommies, with scarves, hats and “elegant purses.” When my husband complained, the senior first-grade teacher didn’t understand. She asked if my daughter was upset.

In this year’s clip, the boys were carpenters, plumbers, doctors and businessmen while the girls taught, ironed and went to the grocery. At least they had a few businesswomen. The children did their tasks, looked at their watches, and stopped. Afterward the clip showed all the children in shul saying mincha (the afternoon prayer).  Having the girls say mincha in shul was rather progessive.

I took loads of pictures to practice, so I could get a a good shot of my daughter introducing the official. But she never got her chance, or I never got mine, because the official never showed up.

At least I was smart enough not to ask whether she was disappointed.

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Funny Things My Kids Said in 2009

I’ve collected my 2009 Facebook “status messages” about my two youngest children, in order to inflict them all on you at once. My son is now 8 and my daughter nearly six.

Here they are, starting in January.

Daughter: “What color do white and white make? Light white?”

Daughter kept asking whether we were going to lick the liqueur at the Purim seudah.

Daughter: “Don’t touch my socks. I’ve worn them for a few days.”

Son wondered whether you have to make a bracha (blessing) on lightning when you see Harry Potter’s scar.

Me to son: It looks like you got up on the wrong side of bed. Daughter: He did. I saw him.

Son said the list of animals in the parsha (Leviticus is like the class, Care of Magical Creatures, in Harry Potter

Son: Are you going to have another baby? Me: I don’t think so, I’m pretty old. Son: That’s what Sarah said too.

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My Daughter and the Times Table

We had guests over on Shabbat. When I introduced them to the kids, I mentioned that my two youngest are in first and third grade.

The littlest one spoke up.  “I’m in third grade, and he’s in first grade, pointing to her brother.” The guests smiled in amusement.

My 13-year-old decided to egg her on a little bit. “If you’re in third grade, you know the times table, right?”

“Lo hidpasti,” she answered immediately. Translation: I didn’t print it out.

He asked her if she knew any of the times table. Her answer: “I know the multiples of zero.”

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Summer Stock Sunday: Musings on a Bathing Suit

I wanted to write about my daughter’s new bathing suit for Robin’s Summer Stock Sunday, but couldn’t decide which angle to take. So I wrote up all of them.

1. I had fun shopping with my daughter, who needed clothes for a camping trip that is part of a counselors’ course. She also needed an outfit for my son’s bar mitzvah, and we agreed fairly easily. At least her shoes still fit her. [The comments on that old post are funny.]
2. The bathing suit was a bargain (only the top is pictured). I went into several stores and asked if they had something for less than NIS 100 ($25). No one had for less than 200. Then one  store-owner offered 90, and he saw it was a teen he said he would charge 70. I was so happy that I got one too, for NIS 100. The last time I bought a bathing suit was on our pilot trip to Israel. In 1990. I even remember how much I paid at a store in Tel Aviv, about NIS 69. I have a good memory for numbers.
3. My daughter didn’t care what the bathing suit looked like, as she always wears a t-shirt to protect herself from the sun. She’s very sun-conscious, so I should probably get her some Vitamin D supplements.
4. The packing list for her trip says that boys are not allowed to walk around in undershirts. I asked about the girls. My daughter said that they don’t need to write that because it’s a religious program.
5. My daughter altered two new shirts because the necklines were too wide. I’m impressed that she does her own mending (and sometimes mine) but I probably shouldn’t be. I mean it’s something that few teenage girls these days know how to do, but it’s not such a complex skill. Don’t worry, I still think she is wonderful, and not because she does my mending.
6. Since I’ve already moved off of the bathing suit topic, I’m sad that she will come back from the first leg of her trip after I have already left on mine. She’s happy that she’ll still have close to a week at home without the younger siblings around.

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My Daughter Is a Bloodhound

I’ve written about my small daughter’s skill in locating missing objects. She also has a highly developed sense of smell. When we cuddle, she often lifts up my arm to sniff the deodorant. “I looove that smell!” she smiles.

Last winter my sister visited and brought along a sweater she no longer wears. A few days after she left I wore it for the first time. My daughter said, “You smell like Aunt N.”

I could probably hire her out to the police department’s missing persons bureau.

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Shabbat Meme: Challah, Yevamot, and Naomi’s Stomach

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