Ima 2 Eight

I met David Cook last night. And I got to talk to him. For real.  

What a strange way to come back to a blog I haven’t written in – wait I have to check – two months.  I tried to gain some balance between my blogging and the rest of my life as a part of Elul. Clearly the pendulum just swung all the way in the other direction instead of finding a good midpoint.

My focus on family at holiday time and the transition into a regular post-holiday schedule was a good thing. If you are back checking-in despite my absence, well, thank you. I hope I am back to stay, and that this exciting weekend was just the kick I needed.

I met David Cook prior to his concert last night. For those of you who don’t know, he was the winner on American Idol in 2008.  I don’t usually watch the show. (We don’t own a TV at all anymore.) He was the clear winner from the first week, and watching him rise way above every other contestant every week wasn’t even that fun after a while. I only watched because he is a really good musician, and I wanted to hear him play and sing regardless of the rest of the competitors.  So I guess that means I like his singing a lot.

I have a background in classical music, and I would like to think that my taste in music is eclectic but all good.  His music has depth, and is quality, classic rock and roll without any unnecessary and inappropriate ridiculousness.

I don’t know if it is more celebration of being in ‘phase II‘ (i.e. I could actually make arrangements to leave the kids for a looong time), the fact that this is the year I turn 40, or whether perhaps this is the year I am destined to turn into a groupie, (even though I have already declared here that I wouldn’t!) – but my husband bought me the “VIP package”, and off I went. Sound check, vip pass, t-shirt, ‘gift’ and a chance to MEET THE BAND.

I was late. They told us the night before – the night before – that we had to be there 3 HOURS before the concert was scheduled to start. They told an ima to seven little ones this minor detail only 24 hours before. One of the many signs that this whole enterprise wasn’t designed for people like me.  I was actually quite proud of myself that I was only 20 minutes late. Until the woman at the ticket counter told me I couldn’t come in. Too late. I wasn’t there on time.

Well, I told her the truth which is that I HAVE SEVEN CHILDREN AND IT WAS A MIRACLE I GOT THERE AT ALL AND IT BETTER COUNT FOR SOMETHING AND THEY BETTER MAKE AN EXCEPTION! I asked her to pleeeeease ask in the back. Down the hall behind the closed double theater doors I hear a very good singing voice improvising a tune about how “none of this would happen if we came on time, on time…” Then a young man with a strikingly familiar beard comes out and hears my tale of woe, asks my name and presents me with my golden ticket. But, he says, “They are almost done with the sound check so you better run”. As I do, it occurs to me that this must be David’s brother (Andrew*). Turns out I failed groupie 101 because all of the other women knew “of course’ that it was Andrew. Silly me.

So I run down the aisle of the now lit theater and I am REALLY close to the David Cook himself. He looks out and sees me running down the very long aisle and sings in the middle of the sound check “welcome to the party”…………..…. so let’s just go on record that this technically means David was singing directly to me…..right?

The sound check ends about one minute later and we get in a line to meet the band. And the line is incredibly long. It wasn’t feeling so “VIP” at that moment, more like “cattle“.

We had a wait, so I got a chance to speak to the women near me. I had no idea I was such an amateur. Not only was it my first VIP pass at a David Cook concert, but my first concert! They had each been to at least 3 or 4, and paid for this VIP privilege in the past. I really was shocked. While perhaps it may seem a tad obvious to you out there, it appears that there are a lot of people in the world with a lot more free time than me. 

The women ahead of me in line (yes, it was almost exclusively women) were FAR more prepared than I; they had come up with interesting poses for their photo with the band, brought presents, etc. Wanting a conversation? Clearly I had it all wrong. The point apparently was to see how many hugs you can acquire. I simply didn’t know.

Rather than feel excited, I sort of felt sorry for the band. I am always a nervous wreck before going on stage. I wouldn’t want to have to spend that time connecting with strangers and hugging them all and pretending it was where I want to be. And David was fidgeting… he was nervous. Or anxious. At least I think so. I wouldn’t want to have had to do that before a concert. Even for all of that money.

It was finally my turn. I got to meet the band. I told them I was an Orthodox Jew and that I didn’t want to shake their hands or hug them and why; that they shouldn’t take it personally. They looked completely shocked. Apparently there aren’t a lot of women frum enough to say such a thing to a rock star and yet still come to their concert AND pay for the VIP package.

Apparently there aren’t any.

Then I met them all; I shouldn’t have done that. I only had a minute or two, and the band didn’t have any interest in anyone pretending they were interested in them. But I did get to watch David Cook try to explain to his keyboardist that I am an Orthodox Jew when he went to shake my hand!  I got an autograph, a hasty photo, and video of the meet on my camera to prove it happened. (If you want a link to the video, send me a message)… but here is the pic:

Andy, who told us we couldn’t take his picture.

I then went over to Andrew to get my “VIP gifts” and be gently told to leave until the concert started. Andrew apologized that he was ‘caught” singing about being on time. I actually feel very privileged to have gotten to hear him sing.*

The rest of the evening was actually the best part. I got to have a hasty but elegant and delicious dinner with my husband at Max & David’s restaurant, and enjoy a great David Cook concert – with great seats I didn’t use because we were down near the front and I got to stand close enough to really watch the performance.

He was really good. He sings well, and he is an artist. A clean, non-offensive, not trying-too-hard, not over-the-top artist. I truly enjoyed the music, and I also really enjoyed that my husband enjoyed being there with me, and could embrace that this makes me happy. The show was great, and worth more to me than the “VIP gifts” or the sound check. I wish I could have met David Cook after the concert instead, just so I could tell him how much I appreciated it.

Not stock photos, my photos.

Of course today, the day after, I thought of all the things I wish I had said to him. This happens to me all of the time. The things that I couldn’t think of in the rush and the crowd and the nerves. I gave Andrew my blog address. The likelihood he will read this is pretty non-existent, right, but hey, if Mayim Bialik could come and read about my meeting her at my blog and then re-post it, it sort of makes anything possible, right? So Andrew, or David, if you are out there, this is what I wish I could have said:

• I really appreciate your music. I appreciate what it is, and what it isn’t.
• I am glad that you can make serious rock music without having to stoop to depravity, it means a lot to some of us out there.
• I think your job is hard and I hope you stick at it, because you are good. I hope it isn’t always lonely and that you are enjoying the ride.
• Why did you name your song Circadian? I get the sleep theme of the album but please explain it to me more; I really want to know.
• The acoustic piece you played was amazing; the best part of the show. Please give an acoustic-only concert some time. And invite me.
• Let me know when you want to play in Israel, because I will get you the gig and an awesome tour of the country. Just tell me when.

… Okay, that’s my list. I will have it to remember should I ever happen to meet him again. Or perhaps one of you could just pass it along to him the next time you see him.

What have I learned?

Don’t be late if you have a VIP pass to a concert, because they probably won’t let you in. If you can’t get in, use the “momma to seven children” card if necessary. I learned that I have this quirky thing about me where I think of all famous people as just people. I want to meet them, but then I just want to have coffee and learn about their lives, not swoon. I learned that hitting 39 and getting into a bucket-list mentality isn’t all bad. We have to live while we can. I learned that one should go to a meet and greet after their first concert or before their second, so they don’t have to blog all of the stuff they never got a chance to say.

Most importantly, I learned that it is really important to be married to someone who gets you, and can understand the passionate Torah teacher who wants to go to a ‘meet and greet’ for a rock star and sing along to the songs in his concert. 

[*The story as I understand it is that Andrew Cook went to the American Idol auditions and his brother David came along. Andy didn’t make the cut, and the producers convinced David to audition. I find Andy’s story and his decision to manage David’s band and to go on the tour fascinating. I just don’t understand the dynamic. I wish I did. I am certain he is happy for his brother but the story reminds me of Aharon and Moshe, and I find it a curious fascination.]

I am NOT having another baby right now. No big announcement happening here on the blog. Sorry.

But it is the conversation that I, and many of my peers, friends – and fellow bloggers – have to have. For some of is, it is a conversation we keep revisiting.

I realize that for some people it isn’t as easy as a conversation or just deciding. I also know there are plenty of times we have “the conversation”, make a decision, and G-d just has other plans.  For better or worse, as Scary Mommy puts it: “It seems like all I need to do is think about a baby and poof, nine month later, I have one in my arms.”

So there are those of us who have “the conversation” because we do think that we have the ability to decide,at least on some level.

The decision can be about a lot of things, and I am hoping that you will chime in about some of them. There are two things I hear most often. For some, it is a question of family size above all else. “How could I possibly handle more? I can’t handle what I have!”, for example. Or, “I always thought I would have X number of kids, but maybe that is just my ideas getting in the way of what is practically best for us.”

For some, it is the AGE thing… “well, I am going to be/am/am over  40, so it’s now or never!” I hear too. I am going to be 39 in March, and I guess, well, I fall in this category. I say I am done, but saying so when you still have time to change your mind is one thing…..

When I was in labor with my youngest child (who will be 3 this spring), my husband said to my doula “the next time, we will…”  There was no rest of the sentence, because I threw the birth ball at him.

Seven is a lot of children. (And any of you tempted to say, or even think ” six and a stepson” you will just have to read this post on the matter.) It is a lot.

Everyone has to do what is right for them, and for many of us that means not only having “that talk” with our spouses, but with a Rabbi.  But I do want to address those of you who are considering going from 2 to 3 or from 3 to 4, because this is a group of women I think I hear from the most.

Here is my two cents, which may be worth much less than that:

• When you have two kids, you can have a lifestyle. I mean hobbies, vacations, date night… a lifestyle.If you want to maintain a lifestyle and choose to have a third, you have to stop and consider how close your parents live, how good a roster of babysitters you have, and how flexible you are. I believe it can be done, but with effort.
• However, if you want or are willing to have parenting be your lifestyle, than three is nooo problem, because parenting is what your lifestyle will become. You will take vacations around the kids, and basically do what you do for and about them – at least for a decade or two.
• … And if you have chosen parenting as your lifestyle, then four is really not a big change over three. Very often you can then have “team A” and “team B” for the purpose of logistics. Who is on which team is constantly in flux, but you can divide up the kids while doing  playdates/errands/ naps/baths/homework… you get the idea.  The kids have taken over the life, then house, the plans, so a fourth means more diapers and less sleep, but not much of an adjustment.

A friend recently related her feelings of still yearning, loving pregnancy and child-bearing, and wanting to enjoy yummy little babies. She is not sure if those feelings are a sign she should keep going, or just some biological stirrings that she needs to learn to contend with. Another friend told her of a woman in her fifties having a hysterectomy and crying, because for some, there is no magical age when that feeling just fades away on its own.

People often talk to me about this very personal issue, telling me that they wonder how can a person do what they do, times seven. “It seems so crazy!”

I tell them that it is crazy, and fun, and joyous and hard and full of love. That when I became a mom I wasn’t a patient person who could live with clutter or a lack of control. I had no choice but to become that kind of person along the way. I remain organized, I prioritize my expectations, I ask LOTS of people for help (and try to help in return whenever I can, ) and I am married to someone who LOVES babies, and loves kids and loves being involved with the poop-changing and bed-timing, etc., which is a HUGE factor in the equation for me.

My husband’s involved co-parenting is the primary, if not sole reason I have the family I do. However, it is precisely because he really does love babies that much, we do end up still having “the conversation“…..

What about you? Are you having “the conversation”???

My “old friend” wrote a lengthy comment in response to my post last week, and I have decided to share it with you as a guest post:

I think friendship the way you have described it is what it truly should be: a laboratory where we get to try out each other’s ideas and see how they fit, volleying them back and forth to see how they can grow and take on a life and meaning that is at least clear to us both, and perhaps also, even although not necessarily, acceptable;). I too value that about our friendship, and always enjoy the sharpening that comes to my mind when I have to articulate things that have become nebulous through non-speech. The following is some “word soup” to continue the conversation and to perhaps sharpen the distinctions between our positions. I have always believed that I am responsible for doing those things that I wish or believe need to be done, and therefore that I must do them. Whether those things are making sure my children have the best options for growth and learning, or whether the Torah is dispensed and dispersed in the world in optimal ways.

This is why I spent most of my children’s young years as a housewife and mother, cooking and baking nourishing dishes to eat and working at and with the schools in which they learned. I never actually thought of myself as chaining myself to a stove, nor did I see that as part of Orthodox Judaism. It did mean that my career and personal development took a different route, even perhaps a bit of a detour, and that I added different types of experiences and skill sets to my already eclectic resume. Now that they are grown and out of the house, I continue to cook and bake most of my own foods, for the nutritional value that provides me, again not because of some gender role or some external force, but because these are choices I make, based on my needs and understanding of what is available and what I wish to put in my body. To a certain extent I feel the same way about my understanding of Halakha and Torah. It is not so much an issue of “trust”ing male sages, rather understanding how they arrived at their conclusions, and whether those conclusions are still valid in a world where both men and women share the burden and the partnership in raising, educating and growing our children, and whether they are still valid for me in my world. In a world like this, perhaps the rules that Ima2Seven sees as playing out for her are not really applicable. It is perhaps convenient, and even pleasurable or correct for her family, for her and for her husband to be to be doing the tasks they do, but does that make it the case for every Orthodox Jewish couple?.

In my experience of learning, many of the “rules and regulations” that appear in our legal corpus are the result of attempts to formalize case law into formulas that can be generalized. The problem with doing this is that there will always be exceptions to rules like these, that case law would have provided for but legal formulations cannot. A difference between me and Ima2Seven is that she prefers to give these questions, when they arise to her Rabbi, I prefer to learn the sources and find out the options for myself.

This is my way of initiating a healing of those “parts of the body that are afflicted”, for myself.  I do not believe that this is “uprooting”, rather casting new and relevant light and perspective on laws that need to be seen. Understand please, I do not believe that I will be able to solve these issues, not even for myself. I wish to understand some of the sources of what i perceive to be difficulties. I do however believe that that is the first step in the dialog, of men and women with the Torah and the Halakha that will hopefully lead to the healing without uprooting that we all wish to see.

Even though Ima2Seven declares her “sexist” position, I think that she herself would have a tough time accepting the original rules that go along with it. We fought long and hard so that women could vote, get equal pay for equal positions, could speak or perform in public and many other advantages that will allow her daughters to reach at least the same heights of knowledge and independence as those reached by her sons. To disallow that in the religious context, is to me the worst of the logical outgrowths of her position, since at some point, for some of these young women, one of the only options left them might be to leave the religious fold altogether, in order to find intellectual satisfaction, or suitable partners with whom to connect, because we have not shown our young men and women how to navigate these very complex yet intriguing waters.

I told you she is a “hachama”; what do you think?

Today I was blessed to attend a fabulous class by Rabbi Aba Wagensberg of Israel. I went to a beautiful brunch (a spread of food prepared by others), learned beautiful Torah from a wonderful Rabbi, and had the honor of driving him to his next destination, with an uninterrupted 90 minutes to talk to him. (I am proud to count him as a client of my firm at the moment.)

After some adorable homemade cards, a breakfast I didn’t want and adorable hugs, I ran past the DISASTER of a kitchen filled with the supplies used to make the adorable homemade cards and the breakfast I didn’t want, and left. By myself. I spent the majority of the day not mothering, which was the best Mother’s day gift I could have asked for. Sorry if that makes me sound like a terrible Ima, but this year that is what I needed.

The topic of the class was “Coping with Pain and Suffering”.  Rabbi Wagensberg reminded me that everything that we are given is precisely what we need in order to help us become the best person we can be.

But this is also true for everyone we are given; our spouses and our children are just the challenges Hashem knows that we need to learn and grow. While he was addressing the serious, hard sufferings of this world people must deal with, I was also reminded on Mother’s Day that my children are the most amazing gifts in more ways than one.  They do teach me so much, and help me grow.  Each one is an awesome responsibility and often a huge enigma. But gifts. Not only for all of the good and wonderful things they do, but for the acting up, acting out, and just plain stumping me that occurs on a regular basis.

Having “abandoned” them for almost the entire day, sure enough my re-entry was met with a sudden list of traumas, complaints, boo-boos and of course “we’re starving“…..

…. thank you, Hashem, for the Mother’s Day gifts……

The worst bedtime issues in my house are not those of any of the children. They are entirely my own.

I like control. I like feeling in control, I like being in control. And being a parent, I have found, is one long road of giving up all control. It starts when your body doesn’t feel like your own anymore, and your eating, sleeping and peeing are all controlled by the little being growing inside of you. It ends, well, I doubt it ever ends.

After I  have helped with homework, fed them, bathed them, read to them, cajoled them, brushed teeth, had the heart-to-heart conversations that always seem to need to happen only 5 minutes AFTER they are supposed to be asleep, cleaned up from the homework, dinner, baths, cajoling and everything else, I sit down… and it is quiet. It is bliss.

It is my time. I get to decide what I am going to do (or not). I can eat what I want, and I can work using my full concentration and whatever brain cells still have energy to function. I can even blog about still being awake.

What my husband wants is another story. He has waited for the kids to get homework done, dinner, baths… I think you have seen the list.  So he has waited a long time to talk to me, spend time with me, or just to go to sleep at the same time. He also wants a wife that is well rested and has gotten enough sleep to do it all again the next day without needing him to take over.

But I don’t want to go to bed at a time that is convenient for someone else. And I don’t want to go to sleep just to do the right thing and get enough sleep, any more than the kids do who need the aforementioned cajoling. (As I write this it sounds like such a rebellious, childish sentiment.)

I want to control this precious time, and use it as I see fit. I would like to think that if I had more control over other aspects of my life than bedtime wouldn’t become a “power struggle” for me. However, I accepted a very long time ago (or at least I thought I had) that I don’t really have any control over anything. It is an illusion. Hashem controls it all, and I have to do the best I can in each situation I am given.  I also thought that raising a non-custodial stepchild who also happens to be a teenager had stripped me of any remaining control issues. Clearly not.

Staying up as long as I want, enjoying the peace and quiet, using my time only mildly wisely and eating things I won’t let the rest of my family have is the closest I am going to come to a “room of one’s own”  for now. And it feels  self-indulgent and “selfish”… blissfully so.

It’s my birthday today. It is both my English and Hebrew birthday. Since the Hebrew calendar syncs with the Roman one every 19 years, I am either 19, 38, or 57 today. I will let you guess.

I don’t really expect or enjoy much fanfare on my birthday. I remember my 30th, because I spent it in bed with a stomach flu. The rest past about 16 are pretty unmemorable, and that’s okay with me.

For me, birthdays are a day for reflection and gratitude. (And handmade cards from my kids.)

This year, my 10 yo made me a beautiful necklace, with her Safta’s help, without my knowing, and managed to keep it a surprise. I am pretty impressed, but I am also bracing myself that my kids are getting older as well, and in a much more dramatic fashion than I.

When I was just turning 31, my neighbor and close friend told me how great it was to be in her 40’s. I thought she was CRAZY. I didn’t want to be getting any closer to 40 myself. But she said that her 40’s were about implementing the wisdom she spent her 20’s and 30’s accumulating.

That was very little consolation to me on that younger side of my thirties.  Didn’t sound attractive to me at all. Now as I get closer by one more year, I totally get what she meant.

This year is about starting a very new chapter in my life. While I generally don’t rely on any plans I make, we don’t expect to be having more children.  And that has never been true before since I got married. And the ones we have aren’t a household full of little ones any longer.  I am also adjusting to my new work life. Conveniently for me it comes at a time that my schedule is minimized so I can prepare for Pesach, clean,feel the renewal of spring, and contemplate.

Now if I can just make this the year I get a decent figure back, and get in shape!!!

I am starting to begin the process of losing it. I cannot find two important keys in my house.  The keys, for me, were the proverbial straw on the camel’s back this evening.

I usually don’t make it all the way to losing it. I try to stop somewhere before rock bottom. I don’t like what the downward spiral does to me or my behavior, so I usually see it as a wake up call to change something. Or some things. And there are some things that definitely have to change.

In the earliest part of my marriage I had to adjust to living with someone who was less interested in order and neatness than I am. I wish the consequences of the chaos were all trivial, and issues of toothpaste covers. But they weren’t. We worked through it a lot, and we have both adjusted over the past eleven years… but most of  that adjustment has been organizing everything on my own and making DH stick to it, and/or taking his stuff and finding places to hide it where I won’t have to look at it.

We have been in our current house for six years this week. Wow. Six years. There was a time when I didn’t know if we would ever be able to buy a house. And there was a time when I didn’t think we would be able to fill it. Hah! The amount of places we have managed to stick clutter would be downright impressive if it weren’t so painful to live with.

I do the very best I can to stay on top of seven kids, but I am far, far outnumbered. There is too little sleep, too little time, too little help, too little supervision, did I mention too little time? and way, way too much stuff to keep it all in order the way I would like.

It is no longer just a matter of the toys not being put away properly. Someday, SOMEDAY I WILL find all of the Othello pieces and put them back in the board.

Now it is a matter of filing 2009 as we go, not sometime before April 15th in 2010.  It is knowing where my keys are. It is the feeling that I know where important stuff is, and that it is in the places it should be, so that I don’t have to get so stressed about the placement of the unimportant things. I have a drawer with crafts, markers, scissors and glue in the eat-in part of my kitchen.  It isn’t very orderly, but it is quite useful for now. I am okay with that.

I have a pile of cassettes on a bookshelf that is full of books… I don’t think it looks very good, but I can live with it being in the “someday” category for now.

I have done FLY lady – who I like and am not knocking – and ask anyone who is around me in my house. I am picking up while I do just about absolutely everything else.

Perhaps the tipping point as of late is because we have been in the same place for so long now that the accumulation has gotten really bad.

Perhaps it is because my children have all taken a big leap forward this year, and I know intuitively that the time for my picking up after them constantly really has to come to and end. And the only person I can blame for allowing everyone to get used to that is me.

I am determined to find a place for everything this year, or throw it out. Then I am going to actually expect my children to start putting things in those said places, and my husband too. I might even have to start expecting it more of myself. I am going to have to NOT achieve neatness by doing it for them quickly and efficiently, but by having the patience to make them get in the habit of doing it themselves. I will have to hope that the 20 month old, at the height of the “destructive” phase of life, thank G-d, starts to copy them in this behavior as much as he does all others.

I know intellectually that this ‘training’ will require more energy in the short term, but greater returns with less work in the long run. It just feels like a lot of energy in the short term.

New Year, new changes. We are no longer in a new house. We are no longer a house full of toddlers. Time for a new set of rules, a new way of doing things…..

… it sounds good now while they are all asleep and I am able to sit down…. but I would rather be determined, than having a melt-down.

So I had the nerve to go and get a cold. With a cough, that has flattened me for some reason. Probably because of the snow day yesterday. Fun, but took all of my energy.

I have read that it is just “known” that when husbands get sick the world stops, but when women do the world must go on. I am skeptical, to say the least. How do I know this isn’t just our letting them off the hook? I think men can plead ignorance to get away with not working as hard. “If I never learn how to do it, then I won’t be expected to,” right?

Is it really biological? Really? Or is it just crafty laziness? Do we let them get away with not doing as much as we do because we believe they can’t? And can they? There are stay at home dads, so certainly they must figure it out.  I mean I certainly don’t feel that I was given a gift by Hashem in folding laundry, settling a dispute between to kids, supervising the Hebrew reading homework and answering a phone call all at the same time.

I have been told by many – MANY – that my husband is a rare gem in the amount he helps with the kids.  He is such a great Abba, and he loves to play with them and to facilitate their playing with each other… but is that the same thing as being a really helpful spouse? Sometimes, I suppose.

There are a lot of things that have to happen other than their play. I really don’t buy that it is a woman’s make-up to make sure homework is done before too much fun is had. I think it is just a habit we develop after too many nights of “I can’t go to bed now, I have to do my homework.”

So does it mean I coddle? Do I do it all too well too often? The times I have been away or slacked because of illness haven’t seemed to fix the problem. Everything can always wait until Ima feels better.

I was sick today, and DH did a load of laundry. (Which is about 1/20th of the week’s.) I still had to make dinner, clean the dishes, and make sure homework got done – after some of them were supposed to  be in bed.

So which is it? Unrealistic expectations? Male hardwiring?

I have a feeling I am going to have grown kids who don’t need me when I am sick before I am going to get a really  good answer to my question.