Wisconsin (Or: Collage-a-palooza)

{In which I annoyingly think that every. single. photo. I took of my kids this past weekend in Wisconsinland is precious and MUST BE SHARED. But hey, you're looking, so you musn't mind too much.}

Ah, to take a 36-hour vacation!
To depart at 10:00 on a Saturday and return at 10:00 Sunday night!
What caprice!

What spontaneity!

What relaxation!

Oh, right. Unless you happen to have two very small children.

Our trip started with flight delays - waiting, waiting, and more waiting for the weather to clear up at O'Hare and then Columbus.
Having (almost) no toys and (almost) no food, the boys moped around and chewed on waiting-area chairs.


Exhausted, yet still forced into matching sweater-vests and plaid shorts (oh, the humanity!) the boys partied down at Nana and Pa's 50th anniversary bash.


The next morning, Ashi was looking pretty rough. Good thing he had access to coffee* and cold pizza - breakfast of champions.



Then, being the chipper morning person I am, I decided it was a great idea to drag the whole family to the beach for sunrise - and it was.


Then came the Giganto Scary Family Photo, in which everyone was wearing white tops and blue jeans...oy.


On the schlep back to O'Hare and then to our departing gates, Asher was entertained by Auntie Al's sunglasses, comforted by Elle the elephant, and sustained by appropriately messy spaghetti.


So, to recap -
We schlepped
We celebrated
We woke up
We felt the sand between our toes
We posed for posterity
We schlepped back.

All in all, a pretty awesome weekend. Thanks, Wisconsin.
____
*Okay parenting police, don't freak out - Ashi wanted to use that coffee cup so badly that finally we just filled it with water. Problem solved.

Stress Relief

How do you relieve stress
at the end of a long day?

How to Stay Friends Forever

I know a way to stay friends forever,



there's really nothing to it;



I tell you what to do,



and you do it.

~Shel Silverstein

We had a great time visiting with Nevoh and her Abba and Ima this weekend.
Rami really wanted Nevi's precious paci.
His plan to steal it would have been flawless,
had it not been for the telltale pink (girly) color.
(Nice try, Ram Ram)

On a side note, Nevoh let me shoot some pictures of her in her pretty dress. See?

That's What an Abba is For

Attention all little kids everywhere:

If your Shabbos schluffie* should be interrupted (much too early)

by a thunder storm (an unreasonably loud one, if you ask me,)

It’s okay if you need your Abba to retrieve you for cuddles and love,

And if you need him to convince Ima to let you have Shabbat lunch while lying on the couch.

Later on, you might need your Abba to put some band-aids on your knees (even though you have no injuries to speak of,)

Or to hold your ice cream cone for you (even though you are perfectly capable of doing that for yourself.)

It’s even okay to insist that he hold you on his lap, (even though he already has his hands full with another squirming boy.)

It’s okay – really.

(After all, your Shabbos schluffie was ruined!)

And isn’t that what an Abba is for?

*Shabbos Schluffie (SHAHB-uhss SCHLUHFF-ee), n. A particularly luxurious kind of nap, instigated by extreme sleepiness which is mysteriously un-preceded by the low level of exertion characteristic of a Saturday morning. As schluffies go, it is the best kind, owing to the unspecified wake-up time in combination with the promise of delicious Shabbat food upon waking.

Trouble, Round 2

It's hard to believe that it has been 15 months since I posted the original "Trouble" post.
Asher, sweet, darling, angelic boy that he is,
gave me a few weeks to get over his transition from "baby" to "big boy,"
waiting a full month to go from crawling to cruising.

I have learned a simple truth about my Ram-Ram.
As much as he loves me
(and, OH! does he L-O-V-E his Ima...)

he
just
can't
stop himself

from growing up
way too fast.

{Presenting: "Trouble, Round 2."}

Two Years

Two years ago,
I met Asher.

His entire little body could fit, curled up, on my chest.
I marveled over his tiny toes,
his mewling cries,
the impossible softness of his skin.
His utter perfection.

Those first days and weeks,
He dozed almost constantly
as I sang him songs
told him the story of my love for him
whispered prayers of thanksgiving in his downy ears.
I would lay next to him long after nursing
positioning my face in front of his open mouth
yearning to memorize the unanticipated sweetness of milky baby breath.

In those days,
my heart began to beat in a different way;
the way a mother's heart beats -
not harder, not stronger, not more often
just fuller somehow -
fuller with a mother's intuition
that watching children grow is bittersweet.

Two years later,
Asher is my bright boy.
When he smiles, the sun seems to shine on his face.

During snuggle time, he no longer fits on my chest.
But his arms wrap around my neck in a familiar pose.
Comforting (us both.)

Those tiny toes hit the ground running now,
requiring kisses for repair when stubbed.

That mewling voice now haltingly strings together sentences -
demands, exclamations of joy, declarations of love.
(I never imagined "Ima!" could sound so sweet.)

His gorgeous baby skin has many times
been scraped and bruised by little-boy adventures.

Bedtime prayers have not changed -
(Shema, Hashkiveinu, the Angel Song -)
except, now, Asher sings them along with me.

One day he will sing them for himself.

But not just yet.

Here's to another year of growth, change, discovery, and adventure ahead,
however bittersweet it may be.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.

Two Years: Prologue

Most kids in this world get to enjoy at least two birthdays
as the baby of the family.

For Asher, it was just one birthday as our one and only,
dandled darling,
ooshie-pooshie,
center-of-attention-at-all-times boy.
(He never asked to be a big brother a mere 16 months after his own grand entrance.)

That's why my heart swelled with love
when I saw my big boy
(without being asked, nudged, coerced, or guilted in any way)
bend down
and share one of his beloved french fries
with his little brother.

After all, isn't that what brotherhood (and being a big boy) is all about?

I'm Going to Eat Your Face

I can't tell you how many times I've been schnoogling* with Rami,
experiencing his utter deliciousness -

that delectable, round softness of cheek!
that loving, relentless pincher grasp!
that squeal of delight from deep in the belly!
that sweet crust of strained pea behind the ear!
that trademark smile of bliss! -

have become overjoyed,
and declared,
"I'm going to eat your face!!!"

Yes, I realize how freaky that sounds.
But consider this:

and then, tell me - wouldn't you say the same thing?

____
*Schnoogle (schNOOgle) - n. An intensified snuggle, differentiated by increased face-kissing, full body hugs, and sighs of contentment and/or squeals of delight.

Mobile

"Life is like riding a bicycle -
to keep your balance, you must keep moving."
~Albert Einstein

Happy Father's Day

The father who would taste the essence of his fatherhood
must turn back from the plane of his experience,
take with him the fruits of his journey,

and begin again beside his child,
marching step by step over the same old road.

~Angelo Patri

To see the whole Father's Day set, click here.

____

Father's Day means summer is really, really here! Check out some more sweet summer photography at the Summer Stock Photography Challenge on Robin's Blog, "Around the Island."

Let's Talk About Hair

I've been lucky to get so many compliments on Asher while we're out and about:
"She's so sweet!"

"What a pretty little girl!"

"Aw, isn't she precious?"

Yep! Even when he's dressed in a polo shirt and cargo pants,
strangers think that Ashi's a girl.

So, why haven't we cut that boy's hair yet?
It's a Jewish custom to let it grow.
Until he's three.

Why?

(I'm glad you asked.)
The Bible compares people to trees:
"...They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper." (Ps.1:3)*

In the Torah,** the Israelites are instructed to refrain from harvesting a tree's fruit for the first three years of its life.

We want our children to be like trees.
We know that small children need lots of special love, care, and devotion to build strong roots.
We know that they need a different kind of love to grow tall and strong.
And yet a different kind to grow branches, leaves, and fruit of their own.

We want our children to be strong enough
to weather the storms of life,
which also means being flexible enough
not to break in the fiercest winds.

So, as a symbol of this deepest of hopes,
we leave his hair alone,
just like the fruit of a tree,
for his first three years.

(Also, it's a sneaky way for me to avoid getting rid of this last little remnant of his baby-hood. Oh, you'd better believe I'm going to cry buckets when we cut it next year.)



To see the whole "Ashi's hair" set, inspired by this post, click here.
__
*Another favorite example of mine is Psalms 92:12 .
**Leviticus 19:23.

Oh, Vanity! {I ♥ Faces}

We all know that Rami is a beautiful baby.

Apparently, so does he.


____

This post is submitted on I ♥ Faces, a photography blog focused on the art of capturing faces and their various emotions. Visit them at www.iheartfaces.blogspot.com. They pick winners every week - maybe we'll get lucky!

Apology

Dear Abba,
I am so very sorry about last night.
I know that you need your sleep,
but for some reason,

I just wanted all the snuggles,

hugs,
and attention

I could get from you.

At the time,
letting you sleep for 20-minute stretches
seemed pretty generous to me.
(You are just so much fun to be with
and you give the best cuddles
and I love you so very, very much.)

But now, I have seen the error of my ways.

And I'll understand if you don't want to hug me anymore.
Really.


Love,
Rami

Hermit Prevention, or "Doing Things"

David and I have always said that
we are not people who "do things."
That is true...of us.
Of the boys, not so true.
(This is evidenced by the exponential rate at which they become cranky when we try to loll around the living room on Shabbat, a la our pre-child days. It's not pretty.)

So, to prevent the boys from turning into antisocial hermits like ourselves,
(and mostly so they don't demand that we pay their therapy bills in 20 years)
we've been trying to "do things" on the weekends.

Today's "thing" was made necessary by my embarrassed realization
that, although Asher pores over books about the farm,
totally zones out to a movie about the farm ("Charlotte's Web",)
and is incapable of either sleeping or riding in the car without his many, many farm animal figurines,
he has never been to a farm or seen an actual farm animal.
(For shame!)

Once we found out that our city's metroparks include a working farm,
we were really out of excuses.





Holy Cow! (pun totally intended, thank you very much)
It was so incredibly cool to watch Asher realize that, unlike his dinosaur figurines,
his plastic cows and horses represent real, live things.

Yeah, at the end of the day, we can be pretty awesome parents after all. (Thanks for noticing.)

(Click on any of these photos to take you to the full farm set on Flickr, including some awesome shots of Rami and other all-natural things.)

______
This post is featured in this week's edition of Haveil Havalim, a Jewish blogging carnival. It is expertly hosted by Ima on the Bima and has allowed me to fill my morning with general awesomeness. Head on over and check out ! http://imabima.blogspot.com/2009/06/haveil-havalim-221-news-and-politics.html

The Sordid Tale

Picture this:
An Ima who is desperate for a family photo.
After several badly (BADLY) botched professional attempts,
I had had enough.
ENOUGH!
We were going to get a family picture,
by G-d,
and we were going to get it this weekend.

At about 5:00 PM,
when the light was golden
but boys were cranky,
I decided it was now or never.

What do you do when you have 30 pictures of your family
Where one boy is looking
but the other looks miserable


or the other boy looks pleasant
and one looks very, very worried?


You cut the head off the pleasant boy
and sub it for the miserable one.




Then you print it really big on canvas, hang it in your house, and hope no one notices.
(Great job, Kim - you figured it out! FB me your preference of Jeni's flavor and I'll send it right to your house.)

Go here to see the whole set of (head-substituted) family photos.

In Which Ima Has No Shame

I went to drastic measures to get this family picture.
Whoever figures out what Photoshopping I did first wins a pint of Jeni's. Just leave a comment.

(No, I'm absolutely not kidding. How's that for my first giveaway?)



(Yeah, I'll post the whole sordid tale later. For now I want to test your eyes.)

Things You Never Knew Until You Had a Sick Day*

Playtime on the floor can happen without toys being stolen and without getting bashed on the head -


Long, quiet naps cuddled up next to Ima do not exist only in your wildest dreams -



And, although it is nice to have Ima all to yourself,
a big brother is still the best. thing. EVER.


_
*(Rami was running a fever after his six-month shots, but don't worry - today he's back to breaking hearts as usual.)

Ashi ♥s Jeni

Dear Jeni,
With your delectably complex flavors,
inspired sundae creations,
and (most especially) your Ashi-sized spoons,
you have stolen my heart.
Love,
Ashi




(Visit Jeni on the web at http://jenisicecreams.com/.)