Who's yo Daddy?

The theme the last couple of weeks in our house has been abba (daddy).

While I have prepared myself endlessly for the question "why don’t we have an abba" or “where is our abba"? I was completely unprepared for the statement, "My abba is…..”         

I had no idea how to respond and so I did the next best thing, I completely ignored it.

 The next day, I took out our book about the different kinds of families and read it to them and talked with them about who is in our family and who is in their friends' families, even though I was pretty sure this was not what they were asking.  Since a statement was made, I presumed, it was clear to my little girl that she has one.  She didn’t inquire as to his whereabouts he or his identity. In her mind he exists. Not that I know what that actually means. I am guessing he exists in a vague story book way, since at gan (nursery school) and at home all the books have a mommy and a daddy.

 Several days later a male friend of mine was over.  She kept coming over and asking to sit on his lap. Instead of listening to him I was watching my little girl.  She was looking at his face and his chest.  I could just tell that had she been less shy she would’ve reached out and touched him.  Another male friend told me that my baby keeps asking him about his chest hairs and why he has them.

When I was a little girl, I remember sitting with my dad on Fridays in the bathroom watching him get ready for shul (synagogue). I remember being fascinated with watching him shave.  It was part of our pre-shabat ritual.  I also recall watching my grandfather shave.  So, when we are in America, or when my dad is here, I invite the girls to sit with him and watch.   

I have recently been forced to contemplate who isn’t in our family.  In the last few weeks a lack of male presence is definitely noticeable. I guess it is true, that a mother (father too?!) can feel their children's pain or in this case non-verbalized question.  It has made me confront a self-declared uncle and tell him he needs to continue his commitment to my kids, even if it is 10 minutes a month. They need it, want it, and deserve it.  So maybe these men are friends and they will never be an abba replacement but some male presence is necessary even mandatory.  This is not to say that children who grow up with no males whatsoever are not emotionally stable or successful people.  But I'm beginning to see and not just philosophize how important it really is and to understand far better the choice to not have kids if a male figure isn’t present. Or women who choose to have a child with a gay man. I don’t regret my very conscious choice to do it on my own. These other options weren’t suitable for me.  Frankly, having had a difficult relationship with my own dad as a child, I never gave too much thought to the value of the male figure, and so, absent a love partner, I didn’t want a business partner.

Kids do need a mother and a father.  This is not to say they can't manage without one or the other.  Kids are adaptable…everyone says that. But lately, I look at other kids who are with their dads or with both parents and I wonder if my girls are suffering and what the long term implications are for a dad-less existence? Is it like taking the highway or surface streets; you never know which way is faster if you can't drive them simultaneously?   I don't never really know how this has impacted them.

  As a child, my dad was my least favorite person.  As a forty plus woman, he is my hero.  My dad, even at his worst, always took care of us.  He was always committed to our family.  He has always been there for me although not in that “Father knows Best”, “Brady Bunch” or Dr. Huxtable way.  His child rearing methods lacked warmth and sensitivity in the best of times.

But as a grown woman, my dad rocks.  He has stepped outside his comfort zone to provide support, love and assistance.  He has spent extended periods of time here, in Israel, out of love for his daughter and granddaughters.

I am dating a widower.  He too is a dad who rocks.  While some of his parenting methods are outside my scope and do not mesh with what I “assume” I will do when my kids are teenagers, his commitment to and love for his children is clear. He is there for them and I guess that is all any of us can really provide.

When I see these men in my life, I feel sad that my girls don’t have a daddy  to provide them with this perspective.  I am sad that my girls won’t have a man to walk to shul with on Friday nights, down the alley, holding pinkys like I did with my dad.

I try to be the best mom I can.  But no matter how hard I try to fill that void, I know I can never fill it.  I cannot be what I am not. It will just have to do.   www.andbabymakes2.co.il

Blessings

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My girls and I spent three glorious weeks in the US this summer with our family.  Aside from the shopping, going to the United States is wonderful because while my parents are here for an extended period each year, going to the States gives my girls the added benefits of spending time with their aunts, uncles, and cousins; using their English 24/7; visiting places that I went to as a child and of course, the seemingly endless supply of love, hugs, treats and the presence (and presents) from their grandparents.

While there, we spent five days at the beach with my sister and her family.  On Friday night, before Kiddush (blessing of the wine), my brother in law, as is his habit, blessed his children.  I never paid much attention before.  In my childhood home, my father's custom was to bless us only before Yom Kippur and while I do include them in my blessings when I light my Shabbat candles, I don’t actually put my hands on their heads and say a special blessing.  For those of you unfamiliar with the blessing, it basically asks Gd to make them like the four matriarchs; Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah.

 If you have been reading my blog for a while, or if you actually know me, then you can attest to my "zagginess" In other words, when everyone zigs, I zag.  Not in a rebellious way, but with my very own "Ellie twist".  So while I do think the four mothers have many traits that I would like my girls to have, I can't help but add my own values into the mix.

Today at gan (nursery school) the teacher told me that Shira, my eldest, can take care of herself and that I did an amazing job instilling independence and the ability to know her own mind in her (and Maya).  I took the compliment.  But it got me thinking. I too am an eldest child.  Maybe it is part of the burden we first born carry; survival, independence, strong wills.  These, in my opinion are important qualities.  But, as I get older, and look back on my life, I'm not sure that these qualities have always served me well.  I have an incredibly difficult time showing vulnerability; how sensitive I am, how hard life can be, and how it would be so nice to have someone to lean on, to give me a hug and show support.  Not always to have others assume that I'm fine, capable, competent, "amazing".

 In the last three years I have heard my own accolades sung so many times. "Two kids on your own", "you made a holiday meal for 12 AND you have two kids on your own", "I barely get through the day with one and a husband and you have two kids on your own". I do all that, yes… but I am a mom with two kids on my own. And it is HARD and lonely and sometimes scary and overwhelming and wrought with decisions that may or may not be the right ones.  While it is nice to not have to check in with someone all the time, sometimes it would be nice to have to check in with someone. It would be nice for my kids to have more balance in the value system they are taught. So as we come closer to the Day of Judgement, this is the blessing I wish you angel girls:

My dearests Shira and Maya, I wish you strength and the ability to achieve anything and everything you want.  That you have the humility, courage and modesty of our Four Mothers, that you learn independence and survival from your mother but that you also are able to show your sensitive sides, your vulnerabilities and yes, sometimes your neediness. That you are competent and can take care of yourselves but sometimes it is nice to be taken care of. Learn how to let people see that side of your personalities.

I wish you both health, joy, peace of mind, and that you continue to grow into the most beautiful, amazing, smart girls that I have been lucky enough to have and to raise. I love you always and forever.

Wishing you (and all of you) a gmar chatima tova.  May you be inscribed in the book of life.

Moments

There are moments when you look at your child and realize how worth it all the hard work is.  Before I had children I never really gave much thought to the work entailed.  I would see moms in synagogue on a long day, say, Rosh Hashana, who came with toys, treats, food, changes of clothes and never once  did I give a thought to how much is involved in getting all that packed and a clothed, kempt child out the door and to the destination of choice in a (somewhat) timely fashion.  The kids were usually adorable; especially at my kids' age (three) and the moms were usually pretty well dressed and smiling.

Let me draw you a picture of the behind the scenes:

Me: Shira, let's go get dressed for shul (synagogue).

Shira: No, Maya! As she goes running across the house gleefully contradicting mommy

Me: Maya honey, let's go get dressed.

Maya: No, Shira! As she too erupts into usually darling peals of laughter but at the moment not such a cute sound.

I then go into their room, pick out clothes and as they come running in with shrieks of "No ME!" or "SELF" we finally get dressed.  My girls put on their own shoes and after 7 requests to put them on the correct feet, we go to the bathroom to brush teeth and wash faces. 

I then go to shower. By the time I'm dressed, they are naked. Lest you suggest I try dressing first and then get them ready, this is an option but one that I have tried and rejected due to the hot sticky summer weather. In other words, by the time I get them dressed I'm so uncomfortably hot and sweaty that I want to get right back into the shower. Maybe we will try this method again when it cools off a little. 

Then with packed bags that make some people's suitcases for two weeks abroad seem sparse, we leave.  There are of course last minute problems like pacifiers, blankies and crying since we (meaning ME) has decided that blankies no longer leave the house. We then have the good bye ceremony whereupon we  say bye bye bayit (house) bye bye blankie…and then we actually leave, make it all the way downstairs, into the stroller, out the front door and….."Mommy PEEPEE".

I am by now feeling trickles of sweat dripping down my back.

Peepee finished we go! I am by now thoroughly exhausted. Have I mentioned it is 10am???!!

The stroller ride is pleasant and calm is restored. My dress is now stuck to my back but I look down at my angels with their hair brushed and coiffed, their clean rosy faces, their little holiday outfits and I melt.

I have never once even for a second regretted my decision to have children. Having said that, I do often wonder what is it that makes us WANT to have them to begin with? I assume it is for all the reasons we are familiar with and sometimes societal pressure and as I've discussed in previous posts; our maternal (and paternal) instinct.  But this is hard stuff. I thought the first year was hard, and it is but in a completely different way.  It is physically exhausting. You completely lose yourself in the wants and needs of your infant and you are constantly trying to figure out what is wrong and how to make it better.

But three…this is hardcore. True, there are far less physical demands. They walk and talk and eat and use the potty by themselves. They can tell you if they're not feeling well. But GD FORBID you put an apple with a blemish only seen under a microscope on a blue plate when they wanted the red plate. Or the shrieks and cries if you put six Cheerios into the cup instead of seven. Indescribable meltdowns over what adults consider nothing.  In moments of calm I feel for them.  They are trying so hard to be big girls and independent and constantly learning new things. Every day is new and fascinating…how cool is that? But they are really still babies in very many ways and it is our job to help them. I love explaining things to them but how many times can a person ask why???!!! How many times in the space of five minutes can someone repeat your name? Or the same question? How do you keep your sanity? I am finding three to be thoroughly challenging and spectacular at the same time. I wish I could keep a video recorder on constantly because the things they say and do and dress themselves in is priceless and what builds that indescribable feeling of family. 

Last night I was watching Project Runway.  It was the episode where they bring the designers' families onto the show.  The families always bring the photo albums. It struck me that no matter what, our family is our roots, our support, our network, our love, our comfort, and the thorn in our side.  Those pictures are the fabric of our lives together; of all those moments threaded together, of holidays and arguments and family vacations and sick days when my mom made me tomato soup and grilled cheese and bought me paper dolls to play with. I remember this as though forty years haven’t passed. This is family. And so, the meltdowns and endless trips to the bathroom, the testing, the defiance, the beauty, the joy is so perfect that my heart swells remembering my past and my girls' present and how I pray for many future moments with them.

Wishing you a happy, healthy, fertile, peaceful, and prosperous year filled with all the ups and downs that are part of family.

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Life of Honey

This past Saturday, we had friends come over for a play date. The mom is a little older than I and she too has twin daughters slightly older than my girls.  Once they warmed up, the kids and the moms had a lovely afternoon.  During the course of our chat, the mom and I eventually shared our stories.  She told me that her family had not been at all supportive when she told them she was embarking on the journey to solo motherhood. She went through a long arduous process wrought with ups and downs hormones and frustration on her own. My heart ached for what she went through; especially because I had been there. I wished I had known her then so I could’ve been there for her.

She then asked me if my family was supportive all along.  Although I have been asked this question many times before, this time a light bulb went off (on?) and I was able to give my family a huge "like". Other than an initial conversation with my mom that was mostly a Q&A session with silly questions like "why would you want to have a baby?" and "do you think you can handle the responsibility?" she was completely supportive.  My dad, who is usually kept out of these sorts of discussions in our house, once confronted, not only gave his blessing but showed love and support in a way I had never seen before.  I had no doubt that my mom would be behind me, she always has been no matter what.  She is that kind of mom.  My dad has always been far more critical. He is also of a generation that doesn’t really get the ways of 2012. He is far more traditional, although ironically, his own life has been one of "off the beaten path" as well.

Lest you think the support ends there, my family lives in the neighborhood I grew up in. When we moved there I was 12 and about 75% of the families were Jewish of which 50% were observant.  Today, the neighborhood is mostly observant, even black hat (hareidi) and it is very common to see the bathrobe/snood set walking around on shabat followed by four to six kids…you get the picture.

Once I decided that I was going forward with my decision, I gave very little thought to my parents' circle or the people of the 'hood.  I live 10,000 miles away.  My community is very diverse, modern and open minded.  My synagogue is orthodox as well but we have gays and straights, marrieds and singles, more observant and slightly less observant members.  Egalitarianism is greatly respected.  The women in our shul (synagogue) actively participate.

The year my girls were born we went to Chicago for the holidays.  I really didn’t think about how my presence with two kids no husband or head covering would be perceived. People knew, my dad, the now great supporter had thrown a kidush (party in synagogue) in the girls' honor.  What completely awed me was my former elementary school principal's reaction.  This is a man who I have always believed to be one of the lamed vavnikim. (36 great righteous men).  I have always admired and respected him greatly.  I had asked him to make a bracha (blessing) at my wedding and when he agreed to my request he told me that he rarely accepts this sort of invitation since if he did he would likely be at a wedding or two or three daily, but in my case he made an exception, although I don’t know why. I am hardly a paragon of virtue or religious observance.  One of the heartbreaks of my marriage falling apart was the shame that this man had blessed me and I was letting him down.

In any event, fast forward to the day in question, a Saturday afternoon, August 2010.  It is shabat afternoon. All my mother's friends have come by to see the babies.  A knock on the door. My rabbi's wife!!!!

Now, the Mrs. is a woman that I have always greatly admired and respected as well as her husband but in a completely different way.  Any of you who have grown up in a strictly orthodox community know that one of the cornerstones is the cookie cutter quality. The Mrs. Was anything but.  Intellectual, attractive, outspoken. She always dressed appropriately but fashion forward and cool.  Her wig was cool, she never looked dowdy, frumpy, or well…cookie cutter.  She always had something to say and it was always intelligent, thought provoking and slightly different from the template responses of the community which I found, even as a teenager, to be stifling.

So here she is, standing in our doorway.  Coming to wish me mazal tov from her AND THE RABBI!!!!!!!!

So yes, I have a life of honey.  G-d has blessed me in so many ways.  I have amazing parents who have always been supportive and "there".  My extended family and friends too, have been loyal, loving and have taught me many important life lessons.

My community here in Tel Aviv; I cannot say enough about the support they offered after my girls were born; meals and groceries brought to my door.  Challot and visits to the hospital, which was a distance from where we all live.  When they found out I was staying at a hotel in the hospital on shabatot to be near my kids (I don’t drive on the sabath), they chipped in and paid for a weekend.  Yes, I have a life of honey.

It has taken me a long time to appreciate my parents. I must admit for a long time I had a sense of entitlement that is something most children have and outgrow but this child took longer than most.

I am blessed. Hashem (G-d) has given me two gifts and because of them, in three short years, I have grown and stretched and dug deep to become a better person and someone they can hopefully, look up to and respect.

Maybe the July heat is getting to me; those who know me well know I don’t generally gush. I want to thank all those near (and far) and dear that your support and kindnesses are NOT givens. I don’t know what I have done to deserve the outpouring of benevolence but you have inspired me and humbled me. Thank you.www.andbabymakes2.co.ilhttp://andbabymakes2.co.il

The Mean Elephant

My girls are almost three. I cannot quite pinpoint when, but sometime in the last few weeks, a mean elephant has taken up residence in our home.  He is generally anywhere that is not attached to me.  I have yet to see him but I hear about him quite often.  He lurks in the hallways, the room I ask them to go to without me, the stairwell if I am not holding their hand or carrying them.  In short, he is very mean and scary and I am the only thing that seems to give them comfort….or its simply a manipulative ploy to get me to do stuff that they are old enough to do. I think it is the former with the latter thrown in unconsciously…kind of like croutons on a salad. They serve no real purpose, the salad is fine without them but they definitely add a kick.

It occurs to me that we all have at least one mean elephant lurking in our homes. Our fears, anxieties and past hurts, whether objectively significant or not are very real and traumatic for us.  They are our mean elephants; and they do lurk. 

In my last post I talked about a guy that had unilaterally decided I didn’t want to be in a relationship. Now I'm dating someone else.  He is nice, really nice, quite possibly too nice.

Is that possible? I mean I don’t think he is a pushover and I think, like everyone, he has his limits, but he is trying very hard to please me and it makes me want to be very unpleasant. The nicer he is the less nice I want to be. Am I evil? Deranged? Masochistic?  I really don't think so, and I certainly hope not.

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  It occurs to me that while I have made significant changes in the last three years and my perspective on relationships has changed somewhat, maybe there is still that girl who is magnetically drawn to complicated, exciting and ultimately unavailable men. If that is the case, then I still have a lot more work to do because I really do want to be in a relationship…don't I?  It's not as though I am a party-er. I don’t jump out of airplanes or travel to exotic places.  The most exotic place I've been to in the last three years is the NICU at Tel Hashomer Hospital.  So what makes my body sing when I meet a man like that?

It is irritating me that this guy doesn’t make me tingle.  In reality the guy before him didn’t either.  I am afraid I have lost my mojo or if not, when and how will it come back? Is it really going to be with a guy that once wowed me, but even then I knew was wrong for me? I don’t have the time or emotional energy for predetermined heartbreak and I feel I am so far past that.

And so, I do believe I have a mean elephant in residence in my heart.  I hope I can slay him, on my own; that I don’t have to wait for Prince Charming to come and save me. I don’t really believe that prince charming is a savior, rather an equal partner who has had his share of mean elephants and maybe he too has been able to slay them on his own, grow, learn to be open to new possibilities and less drama.

Pieces

With the all the challenges and difficulties of single motherhood, the day to day isn’t that different from what moms in relationships experience. Most kids tend to be whiny at the end of the day, and for the most part, the kids all go through the same phases and stages that we need to figure out, adjust to and understand. As moms, our patience runs out at different points depending on our personalities and we all tend to reach levels of ecstasy when looking at our sleeping child or smelling their yummy baby smell.  The basic dilemmas, problems and highlights are similar. We are all exhausted at the end of the day.

 Last night I was out with some of my mom friends and at 10 pm we were all stifling yawns. They are all married; some have one, two and in one case, four children; some are pregnant, but at ten at night we were all ready for sleep even though we bravely battled on with smiles until the first soldier (me) fell at 10.45.

The one thing that is definitely different between solo moms and coupled moms is what happens after the kids go to sleep. Let me preface my remarks by saying that while never a party animal, and always a fan of sleep by 11pm, in my heyday, I definitely went out quite a bit more than I do now. Additionally, while a multi tasker with jobs, errands and tasks, I am definitely not one to divide myself amongst people…specifically men. Never have I dated more than one man at a time. Even if it was just a couple of dates, I generally tried to start and stay with one guy before embarking on another potential relationship. 

Frankly, I am at a loss about dating with kids.  So far I have not come across an article in Vogue, Glamour, Elle, Laisha (Israeli women's magazine) or even a magazine as "intellectual" as Vanity Fair or Time that discusses dating and the single mom.  And I do differentiate between the single mom and the divorced mom.  Because my kids do not have a father and I don’t have an ex - spouse who at least to some extent helps out; either financially or actual face time, the man who enters my life will to some extent become my kids' dad.  Unless I get a babysitter or my parents come, we're not going to have a free weekend twice a month and on alternate Wednesdays. This is not because I am daddy shopping, necessarily, but because my girls are almost three and in their world man=abba(daddy) or saba (grandpa) depending on the gentleman's hair color. So while before I may have jumped into any potential relationship for a variety reasons, today I am much more deliberate and careful in my choices and in including a man in our daily life.

So here is my question for coupled women with kids….How do you do it all? And more specifically, because I'm pretty good at juggling, how do you change roles so quickly and easily?

Today I had coffee with a friend who is married with a child.  I remarked on this phenomenon.  She admitted that at times, especially during the first year after their child was born, it would’ve been nice to be alone with the baby and not have to navigate a personal relationship with her spouse as well. How even now, when their daughter is three she knows that she neglects her husband to some extent. Personally, I barely made it through the day that first year. If I had had to think about cooking, cleaning, straightening up, shaving my legs or nether regions, or even chatting with someone, let alone doing anything other than sleeping in my bed, I don’t know if I would have survived.  It seems to me that the most natural state of being; the "normative" family is something very difficult for me to conceptualize in terms of the mom vs. woman aspect.

Ladies, I am looking for input here. How do you manage to be mother earth by day and sexy goddess by night? Does the sexiness start seeping through your torn and tattered "play clothes" as soon as the kids are in bed or do you need to shower and put on lingerie? Do you need a glass of wine first? If you have spent a Tel Aviv summer afternoon in the park and made dinner, given baths and read 2000 stories and cuddled your babies to sleep, how do you make the switch to woman and not simply maid and caretaker? How do you not simply crawl in a heap of exhaustion to bed and to hell with your womanliness, his manliness and your hazy memory of sex?

I was recently kind of dating someone.  I say "kind of" because we didn’t really see each other that often. He decided that I didn’t want to have a relationship because I was very involved with my kids and because I told him that for the immediate future I didn’t see the need to get together every day, although had he bothered to ask I would’ve told him that every other week was a little meager, in my opinion. While it is disappointing that it didn’t continue it is far from devastating. I learned two things from the experience; that I do want to have a relationship and that I need to feel more comfortable with these two roles coexisting.

So ladies out there, please tell me your secrets, since I am trying to get back into the land of love, romance and relationships and enjoy life more fully.

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Us and Me

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As part of the final exercise for my coaching certification, we had to give feedback to each of our fellow students on which behavior/s each of us exhibited that really stood out during our eight months together. I thought it was a great way to see how people viewed me and was excited to hear the comments…after all this has been a very introspective process.

The one remark that I haven’t stopped thinking about is that I spoke a lot during the course about my space, my room, my time etc.  It struck me because of other things that have been happening lately. My babies are no longer babies.  They are almost three. They have opinions, likes and dislikes and they are not shy about expressing themselves.  How do establish a friendship with them while still enforcing rules and boundaries and repeating the endless NO that is part and parcel of life with a toddler.

In different conversations with various people from diverse walks of life I have had a similar discussion; the things I don’t do with my kids. I rarely take them with me on errands, unless it is one that lasts under five minutes. I rarely go to the grocery store with them, unless I just need to pick up five or less items. If we go on a day trip, I either go with family or my babysitter. They didn’t come to the Passover seder and if I am having a Friday night dinner, it starts after they go to sleep.

Part of this is simply that until now, that is when they were smaller, it was much easier to do these things on my own and I always had a babysitter for several hours a day, so I had the time to do it. Also, while that age is farther away from me than I like to admit, I still shudder when I think of having to go with my mother to do all these tedious errands. Some of it is that I don’t have a lot of friends with kids, who  a. live nearby b. have kids of a similar age or c. at all. But some of it, I must admit is that I have divided myself between us and me.

I am a compartmentalizer.  I have files for everything and to some extent this has also extended to the people in my life. I have my Chicago friends, New York friends and Israel friends. My Jerusalem friends and my Tel Aviv friends; my religious friends and my not religious friends; friends with kids and friends without children. I have begun to realize that while this method has worked for me in the past (maybe) it is not working for me now. At least not with my kids.  They aren’t outsiders; they are my family. The grocery shopping and laundry and holidays are for them and a part of them and are memories for them.  Now that they're almost three it is time to include them and watch them enjoy and learn.  When I look at them I see they are no longer babies. They're bodies have become little girl bodies and when we converse I actually understand what they're saying.

The other night a friend from the United States was here and suggested we go out for dinner…with the girls.  I immediately said no…but then I remembered what my friend from school told me and how my new approach is to relax, enjoy and include. So I said yes. It was certainly not a relaxing dinner over a glass of wine with meaningful conversation on a variety of subjects. It included spilled drinks, seven trips to the bathroom in 20 minutes (we're in the midst of potty training) crayons, stickers and about 100 wipes. But it was dinner at a restaurant with my family. And it was fine, pleasant, even fun…although of a different variety than once upon a time. It certainly helped that my friend was good natured and helpful.

Maybe I'm just a slow learner, but only now am I  realizing that my adjustment to motherhood is still ongoing. While I have adjusted to getting up at 6am and the 24/7 nature of my job and the midnight wake up call, I hadn’t really internalized that I have little people in my life who are part of my social life. Maybe when they're babies it's easier to separate because essentially you are a caretaker albeit a very loving one. But now they are little girls and they are the joy and loves of my life. It's time to become friends and not just a custodian. I am so looking forward to the continuation of our journey together and establishing an even more complete bond.