Snapfish Snafu
In my never-ending quest to find just the right gift for loved ones, I recently placed an order with Snapfish for what I believe is the perfect gift for this particular person.
When it arrived, I eagerly ripped open the package, not realizing that Beernut was standing right behind me. Until I heard,
Who are they?
Who are they, indeed!
Fortunately, Snapfish is sending out a replacement forthwith. Though the outsourced Customer Service representative was unable to tell me how this happened. When I told her that I had received an item that didn’t belong to me, she replied, “have you received it yet?”
Uh…how else did she suppose I knew that the item didn’t belong to me??
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And in other news, a heart-felt mazal tov to the Ima, who was safely delivered of a son at 8:11am. A wonderful way to welcome the new month of Tevet. May he bring much light to our world.
A Wish Fulfilled
I love bananas.
Here you go, baby.
I’m all filled up.
Good job, sweetheart.
Still hungry, Mommy.
You mean Daddy. Say Daddy.”
That’s right. Peach asked for, and received, Baby All Gone for Chanukah. Sending him into previously- unknown heights of delight. And yes, Peach is my three year old son.
Blame it on “Free to Be You & Me,” if you wish. Like many of my generation, that LP was part of the soundtrack of my formative years. Teaching about gender equality in an informal and natural way. Included was a song entitled “William’s Doll,” based on a book with the same title. The message? If boys are expected to be nurturing fathers, they ought to be given equal opportunity to practice during their creative play.
So when Peach asked for Baby All Gone, I naturally added it to his wish list. For the past several days, he has fed her. Given her a bottle. And though the doll doesn’t make crying sounds, Peach comes running when he “hears” her crying.
It’s ok, sweetheart, Daddy’s here.”
If Peach’s creative play is any indication, I think he’s going to be a great dad someday.
Meeting for the First Time…Again
"Moses on Mount Sinai" by Jean-Léon Gérôme
So last week, one of my online friends sent the following question into the cosmos:
Rabbis, rabbis everywhere and not a one to ask (they all appear to be on the phone or behind closed doors)… Is there a blessing for friendship? If so, can someone point me to it? Todah rabah!
I replied that while there is a blessing for seeing a friend after a long absence, there is not a blessing for simply being a friend.
To which she responded, “The one you suggest is the one we’ll recite when we see each other again. It’s definitely been a long time since we were together at Sinai!”
Which made me smile. For Jane and I have not met in person. More accurately, we do not remember meeting. For our Sages of Blessed Memory hold that each and every Jew stood at the foot of the Mountain.
So when we finally do meet up, may that day come soon, we will pick up right where we left off, after we have thanked God for reviving the relationship.
ברוך אתה יי, מחיה המתים
Product Opportunity?
Ken Sean Carlson. He is the object of Poppyseed’s desire. At least as far as her make-believe world is concerned.
Over a year ago, Poppyseed added a “boy Barbie” to her wish list, saying, “I need my very first boy Barbie because when the other Barbies say ‘help,’ who is going to save them? That’s why. That’s how it goes in princess stories.”
Well, Tante PepGiraffe came through this Chanukah and Poppyseed’s eyes were all aglow as she beheld her “very first boy Barbie.”
He’s so hot!
Yes, my seven-year-old daughter is actually a teenager shoved into a tiny, lithe body.
FrumeSarah: Do you even know what that means?
Poppyseed: Yes. I figured out that it means ‘really, really cute.’
But “really cute” is in the eye of the beholder. For the first time, I understood why ethnic dolls are important. They reinforce ethnic and cultural identity. I look at Ken and am left cold.
Where is the dark haired, glasses-wearing, kippah-toting fashion doll??
How Many Indeed!
When Poppyseed wanted to know how to spell ‘Chanukah,’ I figured she was making a card.
For Chanukah I got 12 Littlest Pet Shops. For my birthday I got 18 Littlest Pet Shops. How many more will I need to have 50. How many more. 20
This wasn’t for any assignment. Poppyseed often sits down and comes up with word problems or equations. I suppose it is akin to filling my journals with stories and poems when I was young.
Here’s the curious thing:
She comes up with some meshuga way of checking her work.
And then…she draws a picture.
Who is this kid? Whose is this kid?
Luckiest?
“So we want to make certain that you are feeling well at Christmas!” enthused the doctor.
Beernut cast a sidelong glance in my direction.
After the pediatrician had made the third such culturally-incorrect comment, Beernut looked about ready to jump out of his seat. Wanting to correct the doctor, he found himself unable to say anything other than whisper “you tell her.”
Hearing that we don’t celebrate Christmas because we are Jewish, the doctor made the obligatory “oh, I have lots of Jewish friends” comment, whereupon she launched into a description of the garish “Chanukah” decorations used by her friends including blue-and-white Christmas lights and a large Christmas Tree “Chanukah bush.” “You know,” she said, “because most of my friends are in mixed marriages. But those kids are the luckiest, don’t you agree? They get so many presents.”
Beernut looked horrified and I, in a most uncharacteristic manner, said nothing. I think that she was trying to find a point of commonality and had no inkling how very uncomfortable the entire conversation was for us.
But I was curious to know what Beernut thought about the doctor’s assumption that kids who celebrate both Christmas and Chanukah are “the luckiest.” After all, he is a kid. And what kids doesn’t love getting presents?
FrumeSarah: So do you agree with what the doctor said?
Beernut: Not. At. All.
FrumeSarah: Why not?
Beernut: I think it would be too confusing. Plus they would have to go to shul and church all the time. Fridays and Sundays. Plus Religious School. Families should pick just one.
Some time after…
Beernut: So Mom, what date does Christmas fall on this year anyway?
Heartfelt
Items from the Fall Fundraiser were delivered today.
Beernut: Mom, all the other kids got their items except for me.
FrumeSarah: That’s because we didn’t order that drek any this year.
Beernut: Why not?
FrumeSarah: You decided not to go to Outdoor Science Camp this year and that is where the proceeds go.
Beernut: But MO-om, we could have donated the money to a family who can’t afford it.
And that is what makes Asperger’s so darn perplexing. This is the very same kid who cannot understand why every meal we eat isn’t selected from one of his very narrow food choices. Yet he is able to see that there are other kids who might not be able to afford Science Camp.
A Rite of Passage
I am on the precipice.
With my 30’s quickly drawing to a close.
My best years yet to come.
And so I spent part of my morning in a robe that opened in the front.
Still dressed from the waist down.
Momentary discomfort,
necessary.
A base-line “portrait”
Of the breasts that have nourished my babies.
Thank You, God, for technology.
For health insurance.
For gentle hands.
For life.
In the Eye of the Beholder
Photo: Microsoft Office
A delicious meal was coming to an end. And mitn drinen, Poppyseed says in a clear, and rather loud, voice,
Mama, is Santa real?
Now I have no problem answering my children’s questions. Given that we were in mixed company (i.e. Jews and non-Jews), I pulled Poppyseed aside to give her “the talk.”
Here is my explanation:
Santa Claus is an important part of the Christmas celebration. It isn’t our holiday so Santa isn’t real to us. Much in the way that Elijah visits our home during the Seder, but isn’t real to our friends who don’t celebrate Pesach. Because Santa isn’t part of our holiday, it isn’t our place to say if he is real or not. So if your friends ask you, you must tell them to ask their parents.
I did get a pinky-swear on that last part for insurance.
Making Sense of It All
[This was published on motzei Shabbat]
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Photo: Microsoft Office
And…it starts.
With Thanksgiving a thing of the recent past, the focus is now on Christmas. Right on schedule, our neighbourhood is all ablaze.
They are so pretty, these Christmas lights. That’s right. I like Christmas lights. On Christian houses. They are a festive way for Christians to enhance their Christmas celebration. My kids like them too. On Christian houses. They are perplexed when they see Christmas lights on Jewish houses. They don’t understand why Jews would put up Christmas lights.
To tell you the truth, neither do I.
I have tried to explain, to the best of my ability, why some Jews feel the need to do as their neighbours do. My kids throw back that old Brooklyn Bridge adage.
At least they’ve been paying attention.
Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
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Thank you for your understanding...and gut Shabbos!!! 
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