In Which I Grovel at Your Feet, Dear Readers

Twenty-two (22) days without a new post!
What was I THINKING?!?!
How could I abandon you all like that?
Stranded miles, sometimes even states away,
with no little stories about the boys!
Deprived of even new pictures, for crying out loud!!!

I'm sorry.
So very sorry.

The last few weeks have been....let's say...
horrible

rough

pretty darn stressful

challenging.
(To say the least.)

Most of my free time over the next few weeks
will be spent celebrating the Jewish High Holidays and Sukkot
with some amazing students at THE Ohio State University.

For now, I hope you'll accept my deepest apologies
and understand if I'm too exhausted
to brag about my dear ones with much frequency
for the next month or so.

And, as a preview of my favorite season, autumn,
please accept this offering of photographs
of the boys in some of their autumn hats.







Love,
Ima

Happy Birthday, Abba.

Today is David's Birthday.
I bought him one of my famous gifts
(that is, a gift that's really for myself -
it's a little flat-screen TV for our room, if you must know.)

The boys didn't get him much -
after all, they're pretty short on cash.

But they did sneak a DVD in the player when Abba wasn't looking.
Here's what was on it.

The Big Boy Room

Prepare yourselves for an admission of a serious parenting folly:
Rami slept in our bedroom for 8 (eight) months and some days.

It was out of desperation, really-
in a single room, we thought,
one crying boy would lead to a second crying boy.
If one cried out in the night,
but he was the only crying boy in the room,
only one parent would have to tend to him.

Relegated to a Pack N'Play in Abba and Ima's room,
Rami woke nearly every night
between the hours of midnight and two.
Meaning one parent lost significant sleep each night,
cuddling a restless baby by the bathroom light through the crack under the door.
But, we reasoned, one sleep-deprived parent is better than two.

So, we danced this sleep-trading dance,
(David losing more sleep than I)
night after night
for more than eight months.

On Thursday last,
I finally reached the breaking point.

I was fantasizing about sleep.

Solid, unbroken sleep.
Surrounded by blissful pitch-darkness.

When I looked at pictures of myself,
The dark circles under my eyes made me look OLD (old!)
(My vanity rivals Rami's so, as you can imagine, that was the last straw.)

We hunkered down for a lo-o-o-o-ong weekend of sleep training.
Both boys in one room or bust!

After we lit Shabbat candles all together,
we marched the boys upstairs,
dressed them in jammies,
read stories,
sang bedtime prayers,
put them in their respective cribs,
and waited for the screaming to begin.

We heard a small boy bouncing on mattress springs (a quick peek confirmed it was Rami.)
Some settling of little bodies.
A passing chatty word here or there.

And then didn't hear a peep from either until six (6:00!) the next morning.

We couldn't figure it out!
Why, after all these nights of waking,
did Rami sleep through the night
only when put in the same room as his brother?
Well, we'll never know for sure.

But when we put them in the same crib to play today
I think we found the answer -
he missed his big brother.

Sweet dreams, boys.
This is the beginning of so many adventures together.

Why I love Ashi

Last month, Asher turned two years old.
A celebratory gift was in order.

Like most little children, Asher is obsessed with farm animals.
O-B-S-E-S-S-E-D.
(He has cow shoes.
A cow backpack.
A cow shirt.
A cow movie.
And a gajillion cow figurines.)

I was so excited for Asher to see the birthday gift I had picked for him -
a deluxe wooden barn (painted bright red)
to properly house all his animals he loves so dearly.
I had a plan.
On the eve of his birthday,
I would set the barn up in the living room.
I would put the pigs in the pen,
the horses out to pasture,
and arrange his beloved cows
so that they would be winking and smiling in greeting
first thing
the morning of his big day.


I imagined that he would squeal with joy,
run towards the barn,
throw his arms around my neck,
perhaps exclaim, "Thank you, Ima!" (which, in fairness, he has been known to do.)
I imagined wrong.

Instead, Asher assessed the situation.
A brand new barn.
Animals that needed to make themselves at home.
Imaginary troughs that needed to be filled
(these particular animals dine on star-shaped sprinkles).
Sleeping arrangements that needed to be made.
And, of course, a lineup and accounting of All Animals Present that had to be done.
He got right to work.


He never smiled
never laughed
never gleefully threw his arms around my neck in thanks.

But I'll be darned if he didn't spend the entire day
(I mean the entire day)
Completing those tasks that clearly needed to be done.

I thought it was strange,
if endearingly so.
I lovingly shared the story
with acquaintances -
evidence of my boy's unique character.

Then I remembered a gift given to me just a year ago.
My husband,
proud that I had landed my dream job,
bought me a shiny red laptop
with which to embark on my new career.
It was (is) awesome.
So much memory to hold every geek-tastic program a rabbi could want.
Great for photos and watching DVDs
Fast for downloading too many podcasts (as I am wont to do.)
I spent all day setting it up
installing programs
transferring files
customizing the desktop
etc.
while David semi-anxiously hovered.

A handful of times throughout the day,
he would quietly ask,
"So, do you like it?"

"I just need to get this program installed," I would reply.
"Ugh, why is it doubling every song in my library!?!?"
"Wow, transferring files takes longer than I thought."

As I mused over the story of my shiny red laptop,
remembered myself bent over the keyboard,
trying to get it set up just-so,
I saw in my mind's eye
my Asher,
bent over his shiny red barn,
trying to get it set up just so.

So, there you have it -
why I love Asher...
He's just like me.
(G-d help him.)

One Rash, Two Rash....

Red Rash

Blue Rash

Rami has Roseola.
Ashi? Who knows?

Why I Love Rami

I've said it a hundred different ways, so very many times:

I
love
Rami.

And I've told you why:
His good cheer
His belly laugh
His determination

And, it's true
These are all reasons that I love my darling smaller boy.
But the other day,
talking with David,
I realized that all these reasons that constitute my love for Rami boil down to a very distinct essence.
(Which I'll share with you now.)

First of all, Rami looks like my beshert.*
No, no, not just a slight resemblance -
he looks exactly like David.

See?


But wait!
There's more:

I love Rami because, about a year and a half ago,
our family was going through a bit of a rough time,
a time of loss,
a time in which I was, it seemed, profoundly, irreparably sad.
And, just as it seemed that the despair of that loss would never stop hounding me,
I found out that Rami was on his way.

And, in those very early days,
his days of steady cell-dividing miraculousness,
as I sang him the angel song in the womb,
the hope that his existence brought me
sang me back to myself.

Every mother shares a bond with her child
and the bond between Rami and me has a very distinct tenor.
You see, it is not only that I gave him life,
it is that he also gave life back to me.


Stay tuned for the second installment in this series: "Why I love Asher."
___
* Meaning "destiny," "fate," or "meant to be," this word is commonly used in reference to one's soul mate.

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!