There are plenty of memorials to Maurice Sendak, z”l, on the web this week. They are mostly articles and facts you may or may not know about him and his unique body of work. No doubt he was successful, if not controversial, and he definitely was a man defined at least in part by his Jewish son-of-immigrant roots.

I only offer my personal connection.

I was an early reader. As a student in Hurlbutt (no I am not kidding) Elementary School in Weston, CT, I spent a good deal of  kindergarten off in the corner with friends like Susan Bruno and Simeon Hellerman “reading” while the rest of our class listened to records about the alphabet and what sounds they make with The Letter People inflatable 21″ dolls. I thought the dolls were horrific, but then again so was being put off to the side publicly at five years old… there was clearly no concern about social ostracization  in the educational system back in CT in 1977.

I put ‘reading’ in quotations marks because we were given headphones larger than my head that plugged into record players. We would play records that went with books and follow along, reading and memorizing each story. The number of books to choose from was significantly smaller than the number of school days when we were sent off to the corner. Along with Susan and Simeon, Rikki Tikki Tembo became one of my closest daily companions. As did Pierre who didn’t care, Really Rosie, Johnnie and the little boy who ate Chicken Soup with Rice.

When I look back upon that time now, I appreciate much more fully how fortunate we were to have access to such educational technology back then! Those ridiculous headphones and record players were most likely not available in most schools then, and we lived in the town that housed Weston Woods. This was the company to first produce books on record (and then tape) for children, and I am guessing we probably had those records before most, if not all, of the country. They created the Really Rosie movies as well as the other animated Sendak stories, including the recorded version Maurice Sendak himself reading Where the Wild Things Are.

His books such as these were formative for me, and for some reason (probably my parents’ PR) I knew he was Jewish and that it was supposed to be a source of pride. I have been so fortunate to pass along my love to my children who have learned Where The Wild Things Are in two languages, have a ‘wild rumpus’ song and dance of their own (that my husband created with my stepson) and who have thought for years that I made up that tune to Chicken Soup with Rice, not Carole King.

 So for me, the connection is a truly personal one. My status as an early reader was and remains an indication of nothing regarding my intelligence, only my lifelong deep love affair with books. A love affair spurred on early by the wonderful creations of Mr. Sendak who will be missed, but who will live on in our house and bookshelf for what I hope is many generations to come.

My four year old is – well, he is my youngest child. I am sure he occasionally does things that someone out there might not find adorable and charming; I just can’t see it. He has all eight older members of his family wrapped around his tiny finger, and of course he knows it.

Thankfully my children are relatively close in age. This means that as far as they remember, they were all treated the same way at his age. In reality, by the time they were each four years old I had a two year old and a newborn! They were lucky to join a snuggle while I nursed someone else, or to find me alert and awake enough for five minutes to appreciate them.

With him it is different. I savor the minutes, having learned with the rest just how quickly they run. It doesn’t matter how many Bubbes told me it would be this way, to “slow down and enjoy them because it goes so fast“. Only with my own personal experience – and some sleep – did it all set in. And now he is forced to be my “baby forever”, poor kid….except that he enjoys it so darn much.

My little precious  baby was born with an interesting speech anomaly. I say “born with” because my son didn’t babble like other babies. He made a seriess of pre-speech sounds – all through his nose. It concerned me then, and I was told he would grow out of it.

As he grew, his speech developed rapidly, with the quickness and vocabulary of a child that is raised by eight family members instead of two. But his nasal sound production remained. He could not annunciate a “ch”, “sh”, “j” or “tr” sound. At preschool at 2 they all noticed, and it concerned me even more, and I was told, again, that he would grow out of it.

As our planned aliyah crept closer, I started to move from concerned to slightly panicked. How could I move my son to a new place, ask him to acclimate to a new social environment in a new language, and not help him first correct his speech?

I finally got him an evaluation, recommendation and miraculously, insurance approval for some help. The evaluator told me that the problem was significant, that it was in fact masked by his level of speech, and that it was physiological, with habits learned wrong from birth, and that he would NOT outgrow the problem himself. It was an anomalous speech impediment that wouldn’t be easy to correct, but that once we found the key, she was optimistic he would correct the rest himself quite quickly.

Last week my son said “sh” for the first time. I cried and cried. I thought the day might never come. I cried in joy that I had fought to deal with it now, not later. I cried in pride that he clearly struggled so hard in that tiny little body to correct that which was completely natural to him, subverting the ego and listening to correction after correction. I cried that the gates of success were open for him in Israel, and his success would make his new life – which might be so much effort at the beginning – so much easier.

Once he could translate a “wind sound” (as the brilliant speech therapist Dawn told him) into a “sh”, he quickly began “j” and “ch” – on his own. It was beautiful. He can hear and feel the difference, and often patiently corrects himself, already in week one, without prompting.

What gratifies me most is the joy he feels from overcoming a challenge. I hope he never remembers his funny way of talking as a baby and toddler. I hope he does remember struggle and mastery and hard work with a huge finish line. The need for that skill will remain forever and is at least as important as the wonderful sound of a properly anunciated “sh….”

What makes me so misty-eyed is the innocence and childlike manner of his work. I wish I could preserve this sense of exploring the world without ego. As I help my older children navigate the thorny path of middle school with peer pressure and insecurity, I wish I could keep him safe from it all, remaining in a world where being corrected is okay, and getting it wrong until you get it right only makes you a hero.

Do you hear this gushing? I definitely sound like an Ima of her youngest child.

I have been gone a long time. I do apologize. As if planning a move with 8 people half way across the world weren’t enough, I seem to have contracted some horrible stomach ailment all of last week.

I never hobbled out of bed (or the bathroom; sorry) long enough to consult a doctor, but I am pretty sure I came down with an acute case of STRESS. I don’t expect to let myself be derailed again. While lying in bed wondering if I could have my digestive system replaced,  I wrote some fantastic blog posts in my head. Sigh.  Perhaps someday they will finally make it here.

I wonder if I can continue to blog while packing; I continue to mother (somehow), so in theory it should be manageable. I hope you will stay with me while I find the balance – once again.

Happy Passover to you all. May this be the year of redemption for us all. I will be crying tears of joy over our personal return from exile later this year, G-d willing.

I hope it is a meaningful and uplifting experience for you all.

When my children were younger I felt like I was always playing catch-up, scrambling up the learning curve to meet their needs. Somewhere past toddlerhood I guess I started to feel competent. Surprise, surprise, each of the children followed a similar developmental pattern. Lots of things were predictable. The “terrible twos” weren’t really so terrible. It was nice.

The trouble is that while I started to gain confidence, let down my guard, and even blog about the joys of “phase II” parenting…. the older ones kept growing up, bringing with them a whole new set of complex needs and struggles – ones I didn’t get any proper training to handle.

I remember that almost two years ago I was on the phone with our Rav, second guessing (again) our family size decisions. He cautioned me that I was about to hit a “whole new level of intensity and needs” as my children entered their second decade.  As is so often true with advice, I couldn’t fully relate until it happened.

I know that “big kids, big problems” is a cliche, but I don’t know that this is always true. First, big kids let you sleep at night. Second, older children can often articulate what is going on. It’s a pleasure to receive more feedback than crying vs. not crying and I blunder through.

When I try to wrap my head around the fact that I am already dealing with boy-girl issues, I just can’t. They are just too young! Everyone around me also seems to react that they are “so young”. Then I remind myself of Jimmy M. in the 5th grade. Although oblivious to me and any of my thoughts and feelings, Jimmy caused a blowup with my father about the injustice of only being allowed to date Jewish boys.

It actually didn’t upset me too much that I was expected to date only Jews. It upset me that I was sent to public school in preppy-town, USA, with practically no Jewish population and then told I could only date Jewish boys. Perhaps this was a clever strategy on my father’s part, a means of putting off the inevitable.

But I doubt it. With hindsight, he probably made decisions about moving there when he was still in Phase I of parenting himself, and Phase II snuck up on him sooner than he had suspected as well.  I suppose he couldn’t wrap his head around having boy-girl issues when I was  in 5th grade any more than I can wrap my head around it now.  I bet he had  his first crush around that age himself.  He probably only remembered that as he stood there post-blowup thinking I was too young.

The thing is, we never really get to stop scrambling up the learning curve trying to meet their needs, do we? I am not sure that we would want to. If I ever master meeting their needs, won’t that mean that their lives have stagnated?  If they continue to grow and develop, this will mean an endless series of of new challenges, just like mine. Won’t that be a good thing?

I hope they will continue to grow, and I know that it means that I will have to as well. I also hope that they will continue to need me; seek my advice, solicit my support in the hard times, and welcome my applause in the good. My mother dropped her own life this last month and again last week to help me pack for our anticipated move. A significant evolution from fifth grade romance boundaries, it’s just a different, not lesser, call for help after all of these years.

And I know that they are glad I still call.

… I think all of this is what Hashem (God) wants me to understand of his relationship with me. He wants more than anything for us to continue to have challenges – always new, always harder – that are signs of our ongoing growth and development. Having to cry out to Hashem for help is a sign of both continued relationship and ongoing progress, just as in my relationships as both child and parent.  He really doesn’t want me to be “there yet” and to stop growing… and he really wouldn’t want me not to call.

The key difference is that Hashem doesn’t have to run up the learning curve. He, as the ultimate parent, has already arrived. As for me? I am not there yet, and since I hope for my children to keep being challenged and therefore challenging me, I am pretty sure I never will be.

Welcome to Haveil Havalim, the Jewish blog carnival!  Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a weekly collection of Jewish and Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It’s hosted by different bloggers each week.  Next week’s edition will be hosted by Tripn’ Mommy at  Trip’n Up, to be included, please send your blog entry and link to  tripnmommy @ gmail . com.

I apologize for the delay in this getting up, due to technical difficulties. Of course it had to happen this week, but I am so pleased to be up and running again.

Opinions expressed in the posts linked below are those of the respective bloggers and not necessarily endorsed by me.

If you would like to join the Haveil Havalim facebook group, click here.

I wish all of you a redemptive and meaningful Passover holiday. L’Shana Habaa B’yerushalayim Habnuya! 

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I didn’t get a single submission about Yitta Halberstam’s controversial article on the shidduch crisis in The Jewish Press. So I just went ahead and am including some myself. Feel free to add on!

Pacific Jewish Center Rabbi writes How to Solve the Shidduch Crisis WITHOUT Advocating for a Bunch of Nose Jobs, and In The Pink weighs in with My Shidduch Experience and  More Beauty Reflections.

Esser Agaroth explains why he thinks we should not vote for Shmuley Boteach. I am very relieved that I don’t have to make a decision either way.

He also tell us  about The Machon Shilo Pre-Passover Conference that is taking place today, March 25th. I hope we will learn more after the fact, with a follow up post.

Batya muses in Shiloh How Would CSI, Bones, Cold Case or Harry Bosch Have Handled the John Demjanjuk-Ivan the Terrible Case? at Shiloh Musings.

Joel Katz over at Religion and State in Israel brings us his digest this week in Section 1 and Section 2, touching a lot of important material, including A.B. Yehoshua’s controversial statement.

Speaking of controversy, Michael at An Aspiring Mekubal writes about the passing of Rabbi Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg on the same day as the children in Toulous in Measure for Measure. You may not agree with what he has to say, but it is definitely food for thought.

In the light of the hate-filled tragedy in Toulous, it is nice to read Susan Esther Barnes’ A Message of Hope from Israel at TCJewfolk.

… and unfortunately in more hate-filled news, there is a March on Jerusalem expected this week on March 30th(!) “an anti-Israel publicity stunt that aims to have a million people marching on Israel’s borders from all the surrounding countries.” Please get the facts from CiFWatch, and see what you can do to help!

Dr. Eyal Levin wrote about Israel’s defensive approach in Israel Hayom, and here is Batya’s response “Is The Best Defense, Self- Defense or Offense? Is Life Like Football? in Shiloh Musings.

At Tripn’ Up we hear about how special the Neve Daniel Community is in Lean on Me…. I can’t wait to find out for myself.

And inspired ima reminds us all how our inner child relives it all through our children’s experiences in Childhood Anxiety.

RonyPony gives a comprehensive commentary on Jewish Homeschooling in response to a Yated Neeman article on the topic, that unfortunately isn’t available on line. If you think homeschooling isn’t about you, but you are interested in Jewish education in the US and its lack of affordability and future, I recommend you read on.

Me-ander asks if Passover – Spring Cleaning is a Dirty Word? … I should be doing both right now, but this is of course more fun. : )

GOOD VIBES… 

Spring is coming, Pesach is coming, redemption is coming… time for some positivity, people! I love Pesach and refuse to bring the grumpy stressed ones bring me down, but I am happy to see a a little anticipation, too.

I love Jacob Richman’s Collection of 177 (!) Passover Videos, at Good News from Israel.  I have enjoyed and shared some of them already, and not just the one my daughter is in! (More on that later.)

Visit the beautiful Spring Edition JPix Jewish Photo Bloggers’ Blog Carnival over at  Ilana Davita.

And other wonderful photos of and commentary on the Jerusalem Marathon from the Real Streets of Jerusalem.

I saved my favorite for last: Networked Blogs writes about Mama Doni’s Passover tour and video, sponsored by Streit’s Matzo. I hope you watch the video (which is highlighted in Jacob Richman’s collection too); my daughter is in it! She and Mama Doni have become fast friends. Look for the young lady with a long brunette ponytail and spygear — in a skirt. Mama Doni – I hope Michal gets a chance to perform together with you in Israel one day!

I apologize profusely if something has been omitted; please let me know and I will modify.

Happy cleaning everyone! 

Please visit next week as I host the Haveil Havalim Blog Carnival (and “celebrate” turning 40!).

This week I want to leave you with my FAVORITE Pesach recipe… so you can join me in hording the ingredients that run out at the store.

As much as Purim is not my favorite time of year... Pesach is. I love freshening up the house, the arrival of spring, the intensity and seder (order) of the holiday.

When I start to think about Pesach, I start to think about granola. Pesach granola. I love to make it, I love to serve it, and I especially love to eat it.

My recipe is based on the one from “Stove Tops Personal Chef Service” in NJ.  Several years ago I was asked to speak about Pesach at a local Hadassah meeting, and this was the gem I walked away with.

It is easy to make, yummy to eat and with yogurt is a million times better than pesach cereal for breakfast.

You can substitute or omit  ingredients. I recommend mixing it right in the pan you bake it in. My hope is I am giving you enough time to buy the ingredients.

PESACH GRANOLA

Ingredients:
4 c. matzo farfal, or broken up pieces of matzo
1 c. slivered almonds
1 c. dried raisins/cranberries
1 1/2 c. sweetened, shredded coconut (the stores run out of this one.) 
2 tsps cinnamon
2/3 c. veg. oil
1 c. honey
2 tsps Kosher salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Toss the matzo, almonds, fruit, coconut and cinnamon together in a large bowl ( I do it in an aluminum pan I am baking in). Pour the oil and honey over the mixture. Stir until the mixture is thoroughly coated. Add the Kosher salt and toss.

Spray pan with non-stick spray ( usually don’t do this step.) Pour mixture onto the sheet pan. Bake, stirring occasionally with a spatula, until the mixture turns a nice, even, golden brown, about 25-30 minutes.

Remove the granola and cool on the sheet pan. Stir occasionally as it cools. Store the granola in an airtight container.

Variations: you can add chocolate chips when cool, add more dried fruit, change or add more nuts. 

I try to make a variety of batches, but we always run out. I don’t like Pesach cakes, candies or cookies, so this becomes my treat for the week.

If you make it, PLEASE post a comment. Happy Pesach prepping! 

I didn’t blog about Purim this year. Those of you who have read my earlier posts know that it is not my favorite holiday.

But this year is different; we are in the midst of a move. A big one. To Eretz Yisroel. I am excited about it, and looking forward to every aspect, every challenge, every hill we have to climb. (ND’ers, get it? Hill?)

That doesn’t make it easy.

Catching up on doctor’s visits has meant a slew of diagnoses and challenging follow-up for the next few months.

The children have started to manifest all of the anxiety and mixed emotion expected with any move. At the end of the day, I am taking their stuff and moving it around and putting it in boxes…. Painters have come, cleaning off their decade of marks – and permanently removing their art from the walls.

Some of their possessions were even on the front lawn for a yard sale. The tension is coming out in all sorts of interesting ways. Fever for one, hostility for another, worry for all… and migraines for me.

I gained tremendous chizuk from Trip’n Up’s recent post about grief and her interactions with her son. Her piece was a stark reminder that my children are going through a grief process and how important it is for me to manage it as such.  I know that as the Ima I set the tone. That my positive attitude is needed to carry us all. I know this deep down, and have seen it in action so many times. That doesn’t always make it easy.

Bombs raining down on our brothers and sisters over there hasn’t made it easier, either.

So Purim for me this year felt like a backdrop of  noise, partying and chaos while I quietly tried to embrace safek – doubt -and to breathe through the pain of limbo knowing this is all for the good, part of a divine plan and that Hashem will always be there, behind it all.

In Adar we celebrate the triumph over Amalek, which is related to safek, and lack of faith. Only Amalek could doubt Hashem’s hand when the Jews left Egypt and it was clear to the world who took them out. I am trying, for my children and for myself, to model an ability to live within this stage of limbo. I try so hard to empathize with the sadness that the children feel despite knowing so much better than they do just how excited we all should be.

The irony is that they do not yet comprehend that they are moving to a new home where everyone must master living with safek. Where the conversations about doing so are clearly and deeper and certainly more frequent, but the emunah that goes with it will be B”H  all around them.

I hope they can have emunah in me as I keep reassuring them that it all will be good in the end.

This year, I have been making Challah Hamentaschen rolls instead of cookies. I just end up with more hamentaschen than I want to look at, and decided I had to do something different. Since I had been working with bread dough for hamentaschen anyway, I decided to try something similar on pizza night, and it was really easy and fun… it would make a great kids’ option for a dairy seudah.

The secret to the success is the dough. I have a great pizza dough recipe, adapted from one on the web many years ago. This is a great dough to use for hamentaschen, but it is also a fast and easy dinner solution throughout the year. (Not that you ever need that…)

Pizza dough – for a family of 9 I double this: 

Take 2 cups of warm water, and combine with

4 tablespoons of sugar (or honey) and 

4 tablespoons of yeast

let sit… perhaps near your oven preheating to 425 degrees…. 

Combine in another bowl

3 1/2 cups of flour

2 teaspoons of salt

1/2 cup of oil

(at this point, if you want to get fancy, you can add some yummy herbs into your dry mixture too. )

If you are like me, by the time the kids have helped with the dry ingredients and the phone has rung once or twice, it has been about 10 minutes for the yeast to rise. But you can let it sit or not, depends on your taste and preference – and how “last minute” the last minute dinner solution is.

Combine the wet and dry ingredients, and knead until a wonderful pizza dough consistency. [ If you choose to use whole wheat flour, you may have to add some more warm water. ]

You can shape into pizzas or hamentaschen right away. Spray your baking pan with lightly before putting on the pizza dough.

If you are making hamentaschen, make sure the dough circles are very spread out and relatively thin. Since you are folding them up and the dough rises, it ends up being a lot of dough. Add a dollop of sauce and some shredded cheese and whatever toppings gladden your Adar and bake at 425 for about 15 minutes! Enjoy!

If you make them, I would love it if you let me know.

Okay, so this is my version of what I do. It isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. Enjoy. :  )

I would love to know what you think; my friends say this works if you have 4 or more kids… If you want the link to a template to make your own, it’s here!

Next, I want to work on a “Stepmother” one…..