My purse found me!

Speaking of lost valuables, I let my baby play with my clutch purse as we rode the bus yesterday. When we arrived at our stop, I gathered my dance bag, my baby, her accessories, put her in the stroller, and lowered the stroller off of the bus. We then proceeded home for naptime. 


When we woke up, I noticed a number of missed calls from a caller I didn't recognize. I didn't call back (I was worried that it was the lady who had been 'stalking' my tap classes- don't ask). A little later, they called yet again. I answered, and it was a 13-year-old girl named Ayala who is a family friend and was our former neighbor (we moved 3 weeks ago). She asked me desperately, in Hebrew, if I had lost a purse. I didn't think I had. But I looked through my things, and to my surprise, it wasn't there. How did she know that and I didn't?

Ayala's teacher was riding the bus with me. She picked up the purse that I dropped, looked inside for my Teudat Zehut (photo ID card without which you cannot even claim a package from the post office in this country), read the address, and recognized it as the same building where her student lived. She called her student, who knew me, who called me all day to tell me that her teacher had the purse, and tomorrow in school, Ayala would get it from her and I could pick it up.


I love my neighbors and I love the Torah.


(it's an obligation to return the lost objects of others, and a prohibition to 'misplace' the cash and cards first). 

I FOUND IT!!!!

This is how I feel right now :)

I lost my wedding band a year and a half ago, a few weeks after the wedding.

Robbery? No. Dropped it in the Mediterranean? No. It fell on the floor in my bedroom, along with my engagement ring. And when I looked down, the engagement ring was there, and the band was not. How bizarre is that?

Over the last year-and-a-half I turned over ever square inch of that apartment, looking for the ring. I scoured the bed frames, looked in every shoe, turned our Keters (plastic drawers) upside down, crawled around on the floor...you name it. Pesach cleaning came and went. No ring. When we moved, two weeks ago, I told the movers that if they found a white-gold wedding band, I would give them 10% of its value (my husband chuckled at this, since he'd searched for the ring so many times in that apartment that he was certain that it was gone, gone gone).

Upon moving to this new apartment, I finally stopped believing. I know I stopped, because last night I was looking through our online wedding pictures (to send to a friend), and for the first time, I didn't gaze at my fingers in the photographs, bearing both rings. I didn't use it as a reminder to look in a forgotten place. I just didn't look.

 

Then, this morning, I was sitting with my husband and sorting through our medicine drawer while he ate his breakfast (we have a LOT of random medicines that I was happy to throw out). 

And GUESS WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

I FOUND IT!!!!!!!!!! IT WAS IN THERE!!!!!

How? I don't know. Through Hashem's infinite kindness.

(okay, the physical 'how' could be that when I dropped it, it bounced off the floor and flew up and into the corner of a second-level Keter drawer, and sank into the bottom of the medicines, which I didn't sort for Pesach- they were just taped up and put away. I had searched those drawers already, though...)

existential question alert: For the entire year-and-a-half, I was sure that Hashem was testing me not to give up on the ring. I kept my belief alive up until two weeks ago. So to find it now, after giving up, makes me wonder- what was the test, really? What can I learn from this?

Guest Post

My good friend Rivki (from the fabulous 'Life in the Married Lane') gave me the honor of guesting on her blog! Cool!

http://lifeinthemarriedlane.com/2011/02/10/home-is-where-we-are/

Hashem uses Janglo

There's this site- it's called Janglo. It's an internet bulletin board for the English-speakers of Jerusalem. It includes job postings, items for sale, items wanted, free/swap, and events. I avoided using it for a long time because the layout and functioning of the site is very...

'free service', and it's hard to tell the difference between postings and ads. I also didn't believe it could help me in any way. 

In the past week, I was inspired by a friend to finally make use of it - and I need to share with you how much hashgacha pratis has come through this website.

Through Janglo, this week, I:

-found 2 beds, 2 guest beds, 4 mattresses, a couch, a dining table, 6 chairs, and a bookshelf (we moved this week from a furnished apartment to a non-furnished) for an incredible discount, all hardly used and BEAUTIFUL, and all from a single ad for a moving sale (thanks to my friend who spotted it immediately the morning it was posted)

-found a high chair for a major discount

-found someone a job (that they are actually taking)

-found someone (who didn't have the internet but asked me to keep an eye out) a treadmill- that they bought, which a) saved them thousands of shekels and b) all the proceeds of their purchase was donated to charity by the seller

-found that same treadmill person a full set of cherry wood cabinets for their new kitchen which saved them thousands of shekels

So, while I am in no way affiliated with Janglo, I just had to share this info because it might open closed doors for you, too.  

this is what I mean...

I am showing everyone this picture lately- I think it's really cute.

-just put the baby down 'for the night'-


It's not that I don't like my blog. Or that I'm bored with blogging. It's more like, every time I've had a moment to introspect lately, I've either fallen asleep, or realized I should use the opportunity to daven (remember davening?), or...fallen asleep.
I am busy, but I can't say it's from busyness- I have written regularly at pretty hectic times in the past. You can find a few minutes for just about anything that you priotize. But I guess, in the last two weeks, I really haven't prioritized writing. 
But I like writing. So I'm back now. I can't promise consistency, but I decided at the beginning of this project that I was going to approach it differently from anything else I have attempted. That is, that I am doing this as a benefit to my life, only (and hopefully, the lives of others). As a creative outlet, when I feel that I need one. It's not something I am allowed to beat myself up about for not doing perfectly. 
You're thinking- well, shouldn't you approach everything that way? Yes, I should. This blog was started right around the time when I made that resolution, and I am trying to implement it little by little. It's easier with the little things than the big things.


-she woke up. just changed her and she's now snuggled in my right arm-


-I actually wrote this yesterday, not today. But after writing this much, I gave up typing one-handed, eventually put her down, and fell asleep. This is what I mean...-

Naomi Bracha

The other day, I was engrossed in a book while my 6-month-old baby was playing on the floor a few feet away. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she kept rotating her head in a funny way. I finally tore my eyes away from the 'fascinating' read (trust me, it was not so) and looked at her.

 It was then that I realized that every time she had rotated her head, she was trying to make eye contact with me. Yes, she had toys. And yes, I was right there. But she wanted me to watch her, to echo her little greetings, to show her that she was the center of my attention. So I did. And it was really worth it.

Top Ten Laws of Cooking

I used to think this is how brownies were made. 

For the last year-and-a-half, I have made three meals a day. Every day (except times when we were guests somewhere else). This week, it's coming to an end because my husband is no longer coming home for lunch. So, two meals a day. 


 I cooked before marriage, but it was whatever I felt like eating, whenever I felt like it. No oil? Great! On a raw kick? Why not? Being a housewife is a whole different ball game. I also went out to eat a lot as a single person. I was never home so why would I cook that much? 


This recent change made me reflect on the top ten things I have learned in the last year-and-a-half of cooking.


1. Cook double and freeze. 
For first three months of my marriage, we had a mini-fridge with an even mini-er freezer (literally the size of a dictionary). I couldn't save or cook ahead at all. Not to mention, I was new on the job. I would literally prep, serve, clean up, prep, serve, clean up, and repeat. Once we got a regular fridge with a real freezer, my world got a lot simpler. Use your freezer. 


2. Before making dough, spray your mixing bowl with Pam. 
It makes the cleanup much, much quicker, even if you don't get around to it till later.


3. Get a dough scraper.
This is a useful little thingey-doo made of silicon that is straight on one side, round on the other. It's the key to transferring anything goopey from the bowl to the board/other bowl/baking pan. 


4. When in doubt, use a LOW FLAME.
You can always cook more, but you can't un-cook (much as I would have liked to, many, many times). And there are no short-cuts. 


5. Learn how to freeze.
   Some things freeze well, others don't. Don't freeze something until it has cooled completely, and leave space in the container for expansion.


6. Set-up and clean-up is the same amount of effort for a small quanitity as for a large. So make the large. 
This is true for many things, like tuna salad (fry some into balls, put some into a sandwich, use the rest for a tuna casserole). Or chopped vegetables (what recipe DOESN'T require them?). Or cookie dough- double the recipe and freeze in logs. You can have fresh cookies ready in 10 minutes, any time. 


7. Defrost in advance.
This happened to me so many times. 


8. Don't dress the salad. 
It will soon become inedible. An undressed salad (dressing served on side) can last almost 2 full days.


9. Onions don't need to be in the fridge.
Who knew?


10. If you change or sub a recipe, write down what you did. Or else, you won't be able to re-create it (if it comes out successfully). And recipes from people you know always work much better than internet recipes.


Do you have anything to add?

I'm a Quitter.

the most tsnius one I could find (that alone says something)

Once upon a time, I was an avid magazine reader. My mainstays were Self, Lucky, and Allure. Unlike my friend, Alice.


 Alice was a confident, stylish, talented grad student who had spent a lot of time figuring things out. One day, she said to me 'You shouldn't read magazines. They're not good for you.' 
I smiled and nodded while thinking, 'well, Lucky is just shopping, Allure is just makeup, and Self, well, Self is practically therapy! Vogue or Cosmo are the damaging ones, probably. Not that I read them anyway.'
One day, I asked Alice (just for clarification): 'Did you mean...all magazines? What about Self or Shape? They are all about health and self-esteem.' 
She said: 'Even Self and Shape.'
I thought: 'That's a little extreme.'


But Alice was right. I don't deny that women's magazines are fun to read. But I don't feel good after reading them. I feel conflicted. To this day, I never know if I should be eating whole wheat, or avoiding processed grain all together, or if I should be lining my top lid, or bottom, or both, and if that should be in black, navy, or brown liner. Liquid liner, pencil, or powder with a thin, wet brush? 


Why do I hesitate to decide? Because I have been told to go left, to make that right, to drive to the dead end and turn around, and every other direction possible, by some article at some point in my mag-reading years. They vacillated between
 'willowy!' and 'athletic!'
 and 'bangs!' and 'no bangs!' 
so many times, that sometimes (more than I'd like) I do the same in my head when it comes to menial decisions about what to eat, how to exercise (running is good! running is bad!), and how to make myself presentable. 


I never sat there and thought 'gee, I wish I looked like Kate Moss.' The damage wasn't that obvious. It gave me a subtle message that I don't know what's right, but They Do. And that I needed them to tell me. If I could write my own issue now, the headlines would read:


"Makeup Technique: Determined by Your Unique Face! Your face is unprecedented in human history (even if you are an identical twin)!"


"Nutrition Rules: Relative to Your Unique Body and Lifestyle!"


"Wear Clothes That You Love! What Do You Naturally Gravitate Toward?"


That would not be good for sales.

luxury

I am now the proud owner of a dryer. 

Thanks, Dad!

Motzei Shabbos: Space and Action

 It's a time of the week when you return to 'reality' 

and descend out of the spiritual realm, 

 into the weekday realm.

 It's the time to clean up, to prepare,

 to put into action the revelations you had in the past 25 hours. 

Those 25 hours are a gift of space where there is normally congestion.

 Motzei Shabbos is a blend of the space and the action. 

Gradually the space fades and the action expands,  

until the end of the week when the space is prepared and created, 

once more.

'tarbut beyerushalayim'

    I just got a dose of chizuk (inner strength) about being a frum performer.

    I received this random email (I think it was from Janglo?) that had local info including a link for "Jerusalem theatergoers". I was curious, so I clicked it. I was sort of curious about what's going on 'out there', in the world of secular theater in Jerusalem. I guess my real question was, 'what am I missing?'. I know the theater of NYC and chose to leave it behind. Today, I was wondering what the theater scene in Jerusalem actually had to offer (not that I'd go back- it was just a morbid curiosity).

    I read that there is a company putting on a Gilbert and Sullivan Operetta at a theater downtown, in the upcoming week.  And there was a link to a clip from one of their rehearsals. So I clicked that, too. And it showed a very community-theater-style/quality level of show in the making. So I thought, 'Yeah. No thanks.' But then I was curious about the venue they were using- it was conveniently located, and seemed nice from the pictures. I wondered how much they charge to rent it out, and how many people it could seat. So I clicked on a link to the theater's page. There, amongst other tidbits of info, it proclaimed that it was a 'center for the non-religious of Jerusalem to enjoy Western Culture, on days that most cultural centers in the city are off limits to them'. Translation: 'We are proud to be open on Shabbos!!'

    I again thought 'Yeah. No thanks.' Hashem must have felt that I needed the reminder that no, I am not missing anything.

   Meanwhile, our show continues to sell out and inspire. I am so lucky to be a part of my show and NOT a cheesy operetta on Shabbos.

The Baby Gym

this is our exact model (the gym, not the baby)

My baby didn't have a baby gym. I had made a few unsuccessful phone calls, heard a few vague ideas (of people or places to borrow one from), and I had even made a couple of trips out to stores to buy one for her. On the first trip (to Shefa), the store was out of baby gyms. On the second trip (to Malcha), the prices of the gyms almost knocked me over. I had sent my husband, after work, to pick one up from a friend who had offered to give us her extra one, but he couldn't find her address and eventually gave up and came home. A neighbor proclaimed that she had one, and generously drove it down to our house and lent it to us. But only then did I discover that Europeans (this neighbor is from Belgium) have an entirely different item in mind when they say 'baby gym'. It was more of a plastic board with buttons and music that a child could play with when they are old enough to sit up on their own. Sigh.


I told myself, it's not a life necessity. I can dangle toys above her and achieve the same effect. 


Then at my last Tipat Chalav (well-baby clinic) appointment, they said 'she is not advanced enough at reaching things and grabbing things that are dangled above her- these are the muscles that lead to crawling'. 


Bummer. Even though everyone says you need to take Tipat Chalav with a grain of salt (they don't know your baby and they have textbook standards when raising a child is anything but textbook), it's easy to take these things kind of hard when you're a first-time mother. In light of the still-absent baby gym, I felt guilty. 


Last week, someone gave us some money as a gift. My husband's first thought was: let's get a baby gym. So we went together to the baby store and picked out one from Lamaze. The price at this store was much more reasonable than my initial expedition. And the truth is, it is really great for her development. There are toys and mirrors that hang down, it plays music, and it features beautiful colors and images for her to stare at. It's good for tummy time and it keeps her busy and occupied (well, at least for a couple of minutes). And there is something nice about owning a great toy that you know you will use in the future. Next time, I won't wait so long.


In my community, people are more than happy to lend me clothes, toys, bassinets, all the short-term-use items that babies require. But owning certain things and knowing that our subsequent children will one day have them, or that I could one day lend them to someone else, is a nice feeling. 


I just visited my landlady who lives next door. She is a great-grandmother. She pulled out a box of toys for my baby to play with during our visit, and showed me blocks that her great-grandchildren use, that are from HER childhood. Imagine toys being used for 4 generations!

Dear Lauren

I started writing this blog for a few reasons. One of those reasons was my dear friend, Lauren, who is no longer with us. She was the first 'follower' of this blog.

I started writing this 10 months ago after we got back in touch. Although we grew up together in Morristown, through elementary school, middle school, and high school, we hadn't corresponded in years. This was my fault- I had been living as a student in Israel for a few years, with intermittent email/internet/international phone access. Most of my friends from home (especially high-school friends) didn't hear from me on a regular basis.

 I realized that there were so many things to catch her up on-

 why and how I chose to live in Israel- Jerusalem, no less...

why I was going by Shoshana when she'd always known me as Susan...

who I had married and how that had happened...

my baby that I was still expecting at the time..

                             basically, what had transpired in my life in the last few years. It was clear to her that a lot had changed, and I wanted to fill in the gaps. So I started writing. Then I realized that there were many friends and relatives I wanted to do this for. And so I started writing for those people, too. But everyone knows that when you write (same as acting), you need to be speaking to someone specific. Your narrative has to have a clear audience. I always think of it in these terms: in order to reach everyone, speak to SOMEone. So as I wrote my first entries, I decided:

 I am speaking to Lauren.  

This year, towards the end of my pregnancy, the week I started recording my album, Lauren passed away. Suddenly and tragically. To the heartbreak of our entire community. And we are all still in the aftershock. It was, and is, difficult. 

Lauren was always a beam of light. And the only thing that I can guess about why G-d chose to take her and not another, is that she really had outstanding character traits. Generosity, humility, gratitude, poise, intelligence, true inner (and outer- although that's not a character trait) beauty...I could go on. 

How could G-d take someone like Lauren? We won't get the full answer while we are still in this world, but I heard once from Rabbi Chalkowski that G-d sometimes takes, specifically, the righteous people. The purpose of this world is to give us opportunities to perfect ourselves and help us to grow into who we are in potential. If someone is righteous and has already achieved their inner goals, they don't need to be here anymore. So they are taken to the next world to receive their reward. But the rest of us still need to be here, we need every minute here, to reach our inner goals. And G-d, by taking just one outstanding person, forces hundreds of us regular people to vividly remember her strengths, learn from them, and become more like her in some small way.

I always knew she was special, but like everyone else, I would never have sat and thought and cried and conjured up all my memories of her, without this tragic event's occurrence. We're so busy, so occupied, that we don't appreciate people like that on a normal basis, to the degree that they deserve. 

We needed a wake-up call. 

In Lauren's memory, we slowly become better. And she would have wanted that. And now that she is in a place of true clarity, of only clarity, she can see the true impact that she has made on us, in her life and in her passing. 

donate to Lauren's foundation here:

http://www.laurenfoundation.com/

A Rock and a Hard Place

Sometimes there are situations where you are really stuck

 between a rock and a hard place.

I don't want to get too specific, 

but that's just how I feel at the moment. 

I know it will get better.

 I know I will look back on this later with clarity, with the whole picture, 

with the answer to the 'why'.

 But for now, I am in that place.

Every time I've heard that expression, by the way, 

I have had the exact same thought:

"How redundant. A rock IS a hard place."

It's like saying,

 "I am stuck between a pillow

 and something mushy and soft  that you put your head on..."

I am an adult now.

Everyone is sick in my house. Me, my husband, and my baby. And every time the baby wakes up miserable and needing help, and my husband can barely move, and I can barely move, but I'm moving anyway, I think, 

"I guess I'm an adult now". And every time I have to go to work, even though I am sick, because my husband's sicker and not therefore able to work, I think, "I am definitely an adult now". 

I spoke to my friend about this yesterday. She pointed out that I was an adult before I got married. That an adult is someone who can take care of themselves. This is more than being an adult, it's being a mother and a wife. Being someone who can take care of others under all circumstances. This is like, what its all about.

This friend and I were students together in Seminary. There we learned that moments like this are character-defining. That this is when the cameras start rolling on that film which will be played back to you after arriving in the next world. These times of testing, of being pushed to your perceived limits, are why we came to this world. Believe it or not, comfort and satisfaction is not the goal. Growth is the goal.

As such, I am able to know, even when its hard, that this is valuable and I am being challenged, not punished.  

I just need to keep asking G-d for his assistance and healing. It really works, and it's also good for me to remind myself of exactly on Whom I am relying. 

The headlines of right now.

There is a 3-day fruit and vegetable strike in Israel right now. 


And we're still waiting for rain.

And my baby got her 4-month-and-14-day shots today. And didn't cry. 


And I took a ballet class today for the first time in a long time. 


And many people I love are expecting babies in January/February.


And I made macaroni with dill for lunch today.


And I have to go to the pharmacy.


And we have a show this Chanukah.


And I need to fold. 

And I am picking up my (hopefully) repaired tap shoes this afternoon.


And such is life.

Strange. But crispy and refreshing!

The other day, I took two cabs- one in the morning, one in the afternoon (I'm not usually that fabulous- it was just a time thing). 

Two minutes after entering the first cab, the driver asked me in Hebrew, 

"Melafafonim?"

Translation: 

"Cucumbers?"

He was right- I had just downed a whole cucumber before leaving the house (sometimes you just want a cucumber!). I asked "How did you know? Is it on my nose?"

He said, "I smell it!".

Okay...

Cut to the afternoon cab. I get in, tell him my destination, we start the journey, and he starts to snack on...

A WHOLE CUCUMBER!!!

 WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?

Headline: Scholastic Puppies Turn Frowns Upside Down

So today was not the greatest of days, and I wasn't in the greatest of moods...

And then I came across this picture:

 So I thought I'd share.

 Does anyone remember Scholastic catalogs that they would distribute monthly in school, that offered a variety of cute puppy-and-kitten posters?

These puppies could be Scholastic puppies. 

The Neverending Story, Part IV

I've been trying to finally complete writing my baby's birth story but it's actually very difficult to recall. I kept a journal in the hospital, and I was waiting to write this until I had unearthed the relevant entries, but alas, they were pretty incoherent- so I could have written this three weeks ago without them. Live and learn. 

Once I arrived in the labor and delivery ward, I was given a robe and a room. I was greeted very warmly by the staff due to to my high level of protexia (the secret to everything in this country). I think they were also happy to deal with a woman who was not in labor (albeit two weeks and two days past my due date already) and therefore could still say please and thank you.


My baby really didn't feel like showing up for her birthday party. I was in that room for 26 hours, and went through two completely unsuccessful inductions before the doctors upped the stakes to a high level of pitocin in an IV overnight (in addition to my regular IV- thank you strep test!). I got to know the staff at Shaarei Tsedek quite well during this odyssey- some of the reception nurses were wearing different outfits when I saw them towards the end of the birth- they had actually gone home, slept, woken up, and returned to work again in the interim. The second method of induction, though ineffective for progressing dilation, had caused me to be in sudden, excruciating pain that I hope to never again experience. I tried to put up with it for one hour before discovering it had caused no progress. I remember thinking that if I were to go through with such a procedure without pain relief, I would never choose have children again. I also remember feeling like G-d was torturing me. Now, these are not thoughts that would ever cross my mind under normal circumstances. But chemically induced, maximum-level contractions with no adrenaline or endorphins to get you through, with no end in sight, can really almost break a person. Before this, I was 'sure' that I would have a natural birth, knowing myself to be a person with a high threshold for pain, and having spent so much time preparing myself. I guess you never know what Hashem has in store, or what you are truly capable or incapable of, until you're there.


So I got the epidural, and the bubble-bath feeling that ensued was really the high point of my delivery-room experience. I started laughing, apologized to my husband for growling at him, wrote in my journal, chatted with my sister-in-law, and actually davened Shacharis when morning came  (okay, I couldn't stand- but there's a hetter to sit in Shemonah Esrai when you have a local anaesthetic in your lower body). It was luxurious- I wondered where that epidural had been for the rest of my pregnancy. I also remember thinking 'so THIS is why people become addicted to drugs!'


As much as I had read and agreed with the books and articles against medical intervention during birth, my birth ended up featuring (as I said before) an IV, propis (an induction drug), some other induction drug, pitocin IV, epidural, a drug to counteract the side-effects of the epidural, pitocin shots, an artificial water-breaking, a whole lot of monitor, and not a whole lot of mobility. This was not due to a lack of conviction on my part, or an over-zealousness on the part of the hospital. This was how G-d wanted my baby to be born and that was clear.

about 4 hours after she was born- don't ask about the hat strings- I didn't style her for this shot. 

She was born the next morning- two weeks and 3 days after she was due. When she was born, we (my sister-in-law and I) heard nothing and saw someone running away with the baby. She wasn't doing so well when she emerged- the labor had been extremely long, and she was much bigger than anyone expected. The umbilical chord had been wrapped around her neck, and she broke her collarbone in the birth canal. There was a nasal obstruction, and once they cleared her nose out, she finally breathed (yes, this was the longest minute or two of my life). Her 1-minute Apgar scores were extremely low, but went up steadily at the 5-minute test. To the hospital's great credit, they gave me no facial or verbal indication that anything was wrong. I only knew because I didn't hear a crying baby and no one placed her on my chest, and I was pretty sure both of those things usually happen. A few minutes later, the nurse presented me with my baby, but did not hand her over. She said 'this is your baby!' and then whisked her off somewhere for further medical attention.
I didn't have much time to reflect on that because I noticed that after I got my two stitches, a nurse walked by me, did a sort of double take, and then removed a shallow bucket full of blood (sorry, this is a little gory). And then another. And then another. And then there was lots of staff around my bed/table pushing my stomach in different places and speaking very rapidly. 

I had experienced a hemorrhage after the birth- they explained that due to the induction, my body didn't 'know' it had given birth and therefore didn't know to close up the open internal wound where the placenta had detached from the uterus wall. All I know is that I felt completely exhausted and disoriented from the blood loss. 


It's funny. My baby's birth was completely rocky, but her babyhood has been quite smooth. She sleeps like an angel, and she has a sweet and friendly temperment. I guess we are all tested in different areas at different times. 


I am sharing all these details to illustrate a few things. 1) I am fortunate to be alive and healthy 2) my baby is fortunate to be alive and healthy 3) sometimes medical intervention is the only way for a baby to come into the world 4) G-d writes the story of our lives, not us, and we don't ever know the outcome of each chapter. I thought about my birth throughout my entire (never-ending) pregnancy. I thought that I had considered every variable. And then I was super-overdue, high risk, induced, had a hemorrhage, and had a 9 lb 6 oz baby with the cord around her neck, respatory blockage, and a broken shoulder. And now we're...fine. As I write this I can barely believe that this all happened, considering how healthy we both are- with G-d's help and infinite kindness. Wonder what G-d has in store for the next time around?

I burned my foot on a chocolate chip, and other adventures

There are so many humorous moments in my life. I want to write down two of them here because they are so easily forgotten.

1) I burned my foot on a chocolate chip this morning. You heard me.

How? Well, isn't it obvious? I was wearing flip flops (okay, slides) in the kitchen and transferring hot cookies from the oven (okay, toaster) tray onto a plate. I was doing so by lifting the baking paper and trying to stabilize the hot cookies on the paper during the transfer.This initiative failed- one went careening towards my partially bare foot. And actually burned me to a noticeably uncomfortable degree. Oh, by the way, I was baking these cookies right before I taught four dance classes. Which you kind of need your feet for.
Who knew that chocolate chips got THAT hot?

2) This made me a happy camper:

 My husband's native language is not English, but Swiss German. So he had an extremely quizzical expression on his face the other day when I told him "well, if such-and-such doesn't happen, I will not be a happy camper". Think about that expression. English is so WEIRD!