Erev Yom Kippur

It's about reaching the same spot, at the same time, with the same laws and traditions. Saying the same prayers from the same prayerbook.

But...better. 

I am better.  

My friends and family are better. 

The world is closer to what it is going to become. 

Everything is a bit clearer than it was one year ago.

 

Tomorrow's Autopilot

I felt it at the beginning of middle school (9 periods in a class day?! And how will I ever remember my locker combination?)
And then again at the beginning of high school (um..where's the gym again?!)
And then at the beginning of college (how am I supposed to know how to swipe my Metrocard?!)
And then when I came to Israel ('Ken' is yes and 'Lo' is no?!)
And then when I got married (WHO PUT ME IN CHARGE OF KEEPING KOSHER AND COOKING AT THE SAME TIME IN THIS KITCHEN?? I CAN'T DO THIS!!)
And then during my pregnancy (I...can't...do...anything...)
And then becoming a mother (I am responsible for another human being's IMMUNIZATION SCHEDULE?)

But I just realized something today, as I entertained my baby, made lunch, and choreographed a tap routine at the same time (Get ready to remember this when you need it):

Today's New/Impossible Task will be tomorrow's Autopilot. 


And that gives me all the hope in the world. 

Marrying Out

Since marrying out (I mean marrying a European, of course), I have been introduced to a very different approach to life. I haven't exactly adopted this approach yet, but I have certainly gained from being exposed to it. 

It's the approach of...time.

And  patience.

And  'proper'.

 The word 'proper', I've learned, doesn't mean 'snooty'. And it doesn't mean fuddy-duddy. I perceive it as such because I am coming from a rather adolescent-minded culture (if you don't agree with me, check the average age of the biggest celebrities in America- it's dropping by the day). 

Proper actually means appropriate. As in,
 'wear a proper jacket if it's cold.' 
Or, 'if you do this in the proper way, you'll only have to do it once.'

It's also the approach of measuring one's walls before buying the paint to cover them, so that you know exactly how much paint you'll need. So you're not stuck with a paint-free corner. Or extra cans that will never get used. Or the necessity of an extra trip to Home Depot. 

And do you know why European cheese, wine, and sausages are so exquisite? For the same reason. The Europeans take their time. They do things 'properly'. They are steeped in tradition. 

Americans, on the other hand, are known for fast things- Cheezwhiz, Starbucks (note: I was going to say Red Bull, then wikipedia-ed it last minute and discovered that it's originally from Thailand- never mind), and McDonald's. These things don't take years or months, but mere minutes or seconds. 

Not to denigrate Americans- I am one, I'll always be one, and I gained a lot from being raised in a diverse and idealistic culture. I am merely observing that there is quite a contrast between the American approach and the European approach, and have noticed this difference in approach only by virtue of marrying 'out'. Who knew there were so many ways to paint a wall?

(the above picture was from my first visit to Europe. When I saw this building, I asked my husband, 'Whose job is it to make these buildings look so authentic? I mean, so old-looking?'. He replied, 'They are old. They're real.' I was thinking 'Wow, they really look like Universal Studios!')

Musing on the eve of Coronation

Listening to the Pack n' Play's 'nature sounds' that just put my baby to sleep.

Noticing that I should be drinking more water.

Crossing off things on my to-do list, in my mind.

Regretting that I forgot to drop off my dry cleaning before the holiday, and now it's too late.

Wondering why it is warm again after it cooled off for a few days.

No, wait- why G-d made it warm again, after G-d cooled off Jerusalem for a few days. Reminding myself that weather is not an 'it'- it's G-d controlling my environment.

Reminding myself that Hashem is the King and we are coronating Him this Rosh Hashanah, and hopefully for every moment of our lives thereafter. 

Feeling satisfied with the laundry I did.

Stressing about the cleaning I haven't done yet.


Stressing about stressing, which I don't want to do anymore.

Checking on my baby that yes, she's still breathing and she's fine. 

Waiting to speak to my father when he calls back.

Wondering how my brother is doing in Uman.

Reflecting on what I have been given this year, which was determined last Rosh Hashana.

Marveling at what I different person I have become in one year.
.
Thanking G-d for many things, including my friend Maya, without whom I'd never have chosen the pack n' play, which is providing me with these lovely nature sounds.

And for all of my friends, mentors, and neighbors.

And for my family.


And for my husband's family, who are now my family, too.


And for my belongings- for I truly have everything I need. 


And for my health- I feel better than I have in a very long time.


And for each passing day- each flying day- and the endless opportunities within each day for renewal, for return, for repairing what is broken and strengthening what is strong. 


Thank you, Hashem. 


May the poetry of our machzorim and the yearnings of our hearts be sweet to Your ears this year...


 May the peals of the shofar quake within each of us...

May it help us to reach the place inside of us that stretches up to you at all times...


May the hardness of our hearts crack and be replaced with 


                           Your 
                        unbounded
                            love. 

Bath Time in the Bowl

I love giving my baby baths. Or should I say bowls? 

She currently bathes in a mixing bowl because we don't have space for a giant baby bath. When she's bigger, she'll probably upgrade to the sink or our shower (as we don't have an adult bathtub, either). It's so cute because she doesn't splash around yet, so I can bathe her wherever I choose to put the mixing bowl (lately, on our washing machine which doubles as kitchen counter space). 


She's extremely easy to bathe. When I place her in the water, she gets this far-off look in her eye (after all, 8 weeks ago, she was completely submerged in water) and her whole body relaxes. She also becomes very quiet, as if she's waiting for something paramount to happen. Her baby soap smells just like baby soap should, and I have 3 adorable hooded towels- all gifts from beloved friends- to choose from for the drying-off part.

One of my beloved mentors made a trip over to my apartment with 2 of her 8 children, to teach me how to give my baby a bath. I love and look up to this woman very much. She showed me the way the tepid water should feel, and how much water she needs, and how much soap, and to add the soap before the water, and how to safely hold the baby, and how to wash her from top to bottom. She then demonstrated how to wrap her immediately and dry her quickly, since babies can lose their heat very easily.


 It was so kind of her to do this- to make this special trip. I'll never forget it, and it will always make me smile at bath time with my baby. 


Have you ever been taught a skill in a way that makes you smile every time you perform it? 

How to Score Points in Elul

If there's anything I've learned from recovering from birth, its Accept Help. 

I have an acquaintance who was kind enough to accompany me to the grocery store yesterday, to be an extra set of hands and feet.You cannot imagine how useful this really was- for fetching forgotten last-minute items (forgetfulness is a major theme these days), to shorten the produce-selection process, to load all of my groceries onto the conveyor (when your baby is in a Baby Bjorn, you don't want to lean forward too far). She even returned my cart as I loaded the baby, stroller, and groceries into a cab (okay, the cab driver helped, too).

If you know anyone with a small baby, and want to do a major act of kindness, offer to assist her in the grocery store. You never thought of that one, did you?  

The Death of Perfectionism

The more organized I attempt to become, the more I realize that I have an internal aversion to order. 
It's like an allergy. I can usually ignore it and get by anyway, but its always there, and when I am tired or stressed, it flairs up. 


Our apartment is very small. Whatever you are picturing, cut it in half. We love it- its perfect for us, but it requires a high level of organization. And a willingness to throw out or immediately give away ANYTHING that is not needed. 


So to live here, I am constantly creating systems of order. And once I have a system, I realize how much I resist it. In chaos, you can't tell. But once things actually have a place, you see in broad daylight whether or not you consistently put them in their place.


Example: We have a diaper bin in addition to a regular garbage, right next to our changing table. Good system, right? Makes sense, right?

Well, I often find myself putting her diapers (the wet ones at least) in the regular garbage- which is FARTHER away than the bin. And even though our changing table is fantastic, and waterproof, with all supplies organized and at hand's reach, I often find myself changing her elsewhere (even after a few 'accidents').


So then I ask myself the question: what good is organization if I don't abide by my own system? In other words, if I am not perfect, why bother?


And I have arrived at the answer:

There's such a thing as a B. Or a B+. I don't have to get an A+ at everything. Order (seder in Hebrew) is not my strong point. I wish it was, but G-d has given me enough points of strength- I don't need to feel impoverished if I get a B/B+ in some areas of character development. I am working on it- this is not an attempt to escape growth in my problem areas. This realization is actually a sign of growth (or shrinkage?) in another problem area of mine- perfectionism. It's taken me years to be able to admit that that life is not pass/fail, that a B in an area where I want to succeed is actually okay.


(the photo is my baby on her changing table. see, it DOES happen occasionally...)