How babies are born - by Odeliya

Yesterday my 4 yr old daughter came home from preschool and spent most of the afternoon playing in the yard with her brothers and the dog. This happy quiet playing allowed me to unpack a few more boxes in my bedroom. (It also resulted in my cellphone being dumped into a bucket of water... :-) )

While I folded and sorted clothing for babies of all genders and ages, Odeliya came wandering in to my room with a baby doll in her arms.
"Mommy, when you go to have a baby do you go to the doctor and he cuts you open and takes out your baby and then puts your stomach back?"
Did I hear that right? I mean, WHAT?! deep breath.
"What was that, Odeliya?"  I asked. She repeated her initial statement almost to the word. Now, it is very important to note that Odeliya is not a verbally expressive child. She is emotional and physical, but not generally verbal. So this was extremely articulate for you.
Clearly I couldn't exclaim "No! that is NOT how babies are born!" because the truth is that some babies do need to be born that way.
Two things were going through my mind at this point:
1) Where did she hear this?
and 2) When did cesarean birth become the prevailing notion for how babies get born?
"Odeliya, where did you hear that?"
"Tal told Daria in gan that that's how babies are born." Oh great, Daria's mother is due any minute, I'm sure she's going to love hearing this even more than I did!
"I see. Well, Odeliya, that is not the way that babies are born. Sometime, if there is an emergency - if something is really wrong - a baby might need to be taken out that way. But that is not the way all babies are born."
In the span of 10 seconds several versions of how to explain birth to a 4 year old - this 4 year old - flashed through my mind and none of them felt right. If I were talking to Netanel, I could have told him. Odeliya doesn't pay too much attention to words. So after a brief mental debate where I weighed to benefits vs. risks of going to video, I asked her if she would like to see how babies are born. I wished at that moment that I had a video of her birth to show her... but we went to youtube instead.

Odeliya was fascinated, completely enthralled. She watched with quiet focus as several mommies birthed their babies.
I watched her reactions, and quietly commented that the blood she was seeing is what cushions the baby inside the mommy and not scary blood like when she gets a booboo. I think I made another explanation too, but I can't remember about what. Afterwards I asked her what she thought and this was her response:
"Oh."
And off she went to carry on torturing the dog!

Thanks, Dels, I'm glad we had this little talk.

Sharing the beauty of motherhood

I just had to share this beautiful photo from my beloved MW, Olivia with her daughter Zora.

Olivia's caption: Love is when you don't mind sitting in an akward position for nearly an hour while your beloved sleeps :)

And later that same night, my little guy woke up very disgruntled. He was clammy and mosquito-bitten, and he pulled off his diaper... He finally settled himself, lay his head on my chest and fell back asleep. He must have been jealous of Zora! And I found more pillows to keep me propped up so he'd be comfortable. I felt like I could have stayed like that all night, just breathing in his sweet scent, feeling the softness of his skin, and watching the rise and fall of his breathing...

Of course, in retrospect, I'm very thankful to Yoram for gently helping me put on a new diaper and lay him down in his own bed (for at least a few hours till he came back in to our room!)

What's in your backpack?

This post is inspired by Crazy Stable's recent post about the sad reality of the death of playtime (my high school English teacher is not going to like that sentence!) You should read it.

It reminded me of a recent experience with Tani and an inspection of the contents of his backpack...

Tani is learning in an anthroposophic learning environment where he and his 13 classmates learn through experience, movement, art, etc... He knows all his letter and numbers up to 13 (they just started numbers a few weeks ago), he creates phenomenal drawings based on the readings of the weekly Torah portion, and he can sounds out words that he sees with ease. Yes, Mom, I know you think he's exceptional - but you're biased, ok? His classmates are on par.

He doesn't get homework. About a month ago Yoram realized that Tani's backpack was really heavy and we wondered what's inside it? It's not like he's lugging textbooks and binders like his public school counterparts...  so we asked him to show us.

"Oh," I said, "exactly what a six year old should have in his backpack!"
The full inventory:

• a small green towel from his pre-school graduation (always know where your towel is!)
• several rocks of varying shapes, colors and sizes - he also told us the names of some of them, such as flint and basalt
• a collection of sticks
• some bits of crayon
• his case of colored pencils that I embroidered with his name (by hand! didn't know I was that talented, didja?)

After reading the above post, I was so thankful that my kids have more fun with rocks and sticks than with digital apparatus. And can I put in a shameless Golan Aliyah plug here? It helps that we live in a town where the kids can go play outside themselves, where the prominence of digital play pieces is extremely low, and where we have lots and lots of nature and animals 10 minutes walk in any direction!

Thanks for the inspiration! And thanks for sharing the post, Lenore, @FreeRangeKids!

My blogging as guided by a six yr old

Can you please tell me I'm not the only one - sometimes I just can't remember my kids' names! It's not that there are so many of them, but there are usually at least 7 other things going on in my brain while I am trying to address the concern of my little bundle of joy - whatshisname.

Today's episode - Netanel Chimes In

Mommy is cooking dinner in the kitchen, chopping carrots and sweet potatoes for red lentil soup (recipe below!). She just managed to put the baby down in the salon to play with his siblings, and is just beginning to feel the sweetness of working with two hands - when chaos strikes!

A toy was grabbed, hair was pulled, crying ensues...

Mommy (calling from the kitchen as she chooses between curry and cumin, finally deciding on both): Netanel, can you please help with sh-oh-ne- the- that-"

Netanel (incredulously): Yitzchak?

Mommy: Yes! Please help him to stop crying.

Netanel (now with impunity): Mooommy! What? You don't even know you're child's name? 

Mommy (absently, stirring the soup): sometimes.

Netanel (with the know-it-all essence only a six year old can convey): (chuckles) you don't even know your kids' names! Blog that!

So I did. :-)

Absent-minded One-handed Red Lentil Soup recipe:

Ingredients:

2 onions, chopped

3 carrots, chopped or grated

2 sweet potatoes, in chunks

1 apple, grated

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 liters of water

1 cup red lentils, rinsed

spices: salt, pepper, cumin, turmeric, curry, 1 bay leaf, 4 whole cloves, 4 dried myrtle berries

Sautee onion in olive oil over low heat (that way it doesn't burn while you run to wipe a nose, flush a toilet, sooth some tears, etc...)

add carrots, sweet potato, apple

add the ground spices and stir until aromatic

add garlic, sautee for about 30 seconds

add water, bring to a boil (you wanna raise the heat now!)

throw  in the lentils and the bay leaf, cloves and berries (if you're not sure what these are, you can skip them!)

Simmer for about an hour, remove bay leaf, cloves and berries, and hit that pot with an immersion blender!

(If it seems like it still needs something, it does - lemon juice. Squeeze in about a 1/4 cup of lemon juice and you will have soupy bliss!)

Tzachi is walking!

I'm sooo in for it!

Live and let die

This morning I went to refill Netanel's water bottle, and found little particles floating around in the bottle - mmm, kiddie backwash... Anyway... I decided that our mint plant would probably appreciate it more than me, so I went out to the porch to give dear Nana a drink. As I turned to go back inside I heard a crunch and pulled back my foot so fast I almost fell.

Sure enough, I had crushed a large cockroach. Gross. I'm not a huge fan of the things, although I'm not sure why. They really are just ugly and large, not harmful... and we actually don't ever see them in the house (thank The Holy Protector Of Bugs and People!) and normally, when I have caught one outside, I just kick it into the garden and send it on it's merry way... so I was unprepared for my inadvertent murder.

When I came back inside, Netanel asked me why I shrieked. So I told him. His first reaction was, "Can I see?!"

We stopped to look at the poor, inverted thing with its guts splayed about it, and he said, "It's ok, Mommy, the ants will come eat it!" So I'm fully impressed at this point by my son's grasp of the "Great Circle of Life" but then it gets better.

I didn't want to leave it on the porch, so I got the broom and swept it off to the pavement. And then my son sighed, "Chaval! (loosely translated as "too bad") You moved the ants' food! Look," pointing to a few ants marching across the porch, "they were already on their way!"

I reassured him that the ants would find their succulent breakfast, and we made our way to preschool.

I love my kids!

Lucky/Unlucky Me

There are always leftovers of the lunches from my son's preschool. Most of the time someone knows someone who could really use free food. But occasionally it's offered up to the first parent to arrive at pick up with a car.

Today I was the lucky one. Since there's no school tomorrow I decided, "what they hey? It'll make my life a little easier tomorrow." So I left with a large plastic bag of gov't issue preschool lunch. Then I got home and looked at what it was.

Unlike my experience in my son's NJ school, we do not receive a menu, and although I ask Netanel what he eats for lunch, I don't always get a straight answer. So this was my first exposure to the actual food that he is being served on a daily basis. I was devastated.

In one plastic container, I found greasy pasta which seemed to be seasoned with soup mix. The second container had canned green beans in a watery red sauce. I can only assume there was a protein main dish that had been finished. Based on what I was looking at for sides, I can only imagine that the main dish was something just as pitiful. Fried, breaded chicken breast? Maybe.

I feel defeated! In my house we eat only whole wheat flour, we stay away from refined sugars, we eat mostly vegetables and fruit, grains and legumes. We have limited dairy intake too. Netanel's behavior is so easily affected by his food, so I try to be very vigilant over what he eats. Why should he be reprimanded for behavior problems caused by the food I give him? If I allow him the occasional treat, we discuss it before hand. I ask him, "Who's in control, Netanel? You or the sugar?" And he tells me that he is, and I tell him that if he is unable to control himself, I will restrain him, and then he can choose to eat the treat or not. Now I feel as if all my hard work is a complete waste of time!

I want to take on the system, get in touch with the Ministry of Education and the Ministry of Health, and start a campaign to bring healthy food to our children. I know it's been done in other places, and I think it's even being done here in some areas of the country. At the same time, I'm so reluctant to take something else onto my heavily burdened shoulders.

This is Netanel's last year in Gan, but next year Odeliya will be starting, with Yitzchak not far behind. Something needs to be done about this, and soon. I am so open to ideas of how to go about this, or maybe even find other people who are already working on getting healthy, fresh food to our kids' schools who's bandwagon I can conveniently jump on.

Till then, I'm going to sleep.

I've been remiss

I've been out of touch, and I'm sorry!
We've been very busy around here lately, and now we are in Pesach cleaning mode!
But I promise to be back very soon, and to post all the updates, including Odeliya's 3rd Birthday Cuteness, Driving Test Fiasco, Aqcuiring Our First Car, Enjoying Time with Visiting Parents, and Why the First Year of Aliyah Lasts 18 Months!

In the meantime, here's a bit of eye-candy to hold you over till the "big comeback!"

Netanel playing chess with our guest.












Odeliya in all her birthday splendor


Happy Pesach to you!
See you soon!

And now, to end the war...

Presumptuous? Perhaps... 

 

This morning the kids were fighting. Odeliya started it, Netanel hit back. 

Me: Guys, stop fighting and get dressed! 

Netanel: But she hurt me! 

Me: You don't hurt people because they hurt you, you find a way to make them stop hurting you!

Epiphany! Isn't that the misconception of the century?!

 

How do I make this stick? We are training our future here, right? I mean Israeli kids know that they're going to serve in the army when they turn 18. My son, despite spending the first 4 years of his life with almost zero exposure to violence (via movies, toys, etc) has always wanted to be a soldier. I remember him taking bites out of his slice of cheese to make a gun - at age 3! At the time, he didn't even know what comes out of a gun, or what happens to the person on the other side of it, and not only that, he only knew what it was at all from seeing other kids pretending to have guns.

Now when he plays at being a soldier or a super hero, fighting "bad guys" we always ask him who they are, why they're bad, and why he needs to fight them. Part of the reason is because we want to know what he's hearing from the people around him, and part of it is because we want to instill him with an understanding of the thin - sometimes vanishing - line between good and bad, especially when it comes to war. When we ask him those questions, we keep it light and we never give him answers, just get him to think about the question. 

Trying to annihilate the "fighter" in him, in my opinion, would be folly. I believe it would backfire, because it is something that is obviously in his essence. So we look for ways to foster it and contain it so that he will have the tools to make good choices. 

And who really knows? Maybe the Creator saw fit to put this flame inside our son for a reason. His personality is so complex and amazing - even at 5! You'll just as likely find him playing fighting games as you will find him playing Daddy to his dolls. This is the same child who, at age 3.5 gave up his hard-won balloon to a friend who's balloon had flown away. He gave it to him because he understood, empathetically how his friend felt to not be able to show his classmates the balloon from his brothers' brit. And I'm not just saying that. 

 

Digressing for a moment, I will relate that story:

When Netanel was in nursery in NJ, we went to the brit of friends who's son was in kindergarten, we'll call him David. David left his brother's brit with another friend of ours, we'll call her Shana (;-) who took David and her own son to school. A few minutes later, we left too. We were 5 minutes to school when Shana called to ask if we'd left yet because David's balloon had blown away as they were walking into school and he was devastated. I said we'd left, but I'll see what I could do.
I looked at my little Netanel in the rearview mirror, clutching the string of his balloon, and thought, "what have I got to lose? He doesn't have to give it up, but if he does we can make this kid really happy." I decided to tread lightly, I had no reason to force him to give up his balloon.
"Tani, David's balloon flew away and he's so sad, would you like to give him your balloon?"
Obvious answer, "No, it's mine"
"You know, Netanel, David was so excited to bring his balloon to his class and tell all his friends about his brother's brit! Isn't that so exciting?!"
"uh huh."
"He got out of Shana's car and he was so excited and we was going to bring his balloon in to show his Morah and all his friends! And then you know what happened?"
"What, Mommy?"
"His balloon flew away! How do you think he's feeling now?"
"Sad." I could hear the frown  in his voice.
"Do you know what would make him so happy?"
"What, Mommy?"
"If someone could give David a new balloon, that would make him so happy! And he would be able to show everyone how proud he is to be a new big brother!" (Netanel's experience with that was also pretty recent)
"Mommy, David could have my balloon!" tears welled up in my eyes when I heard him say that.
"Really, Netanel, are you sure? Because that would be such a wonderful chesed (= kind act) and it would make him so happy!"
"Yes, Mommy. I can give David my balloon and he will be so happy."

Well, you know it paid off! He was the hero of the day! The look on David's face was absolutely priceless when Netanel walked into the room and handed him the balloon.The kindergarten teacher gave him a cookie, and his nursery teachers also made a big deal about it - and to boot, he actually got the balloon back at the end of the day!!! Talk about having your cake and eating it too!

But the point of the story is to illustrate Netanel's capacity for compassion and empathy.

 

Maybe he is intended to fight - but if that's the case, then we're going to do whatever we can to foster that compassion. So I got my chance to reinforce it.
 

On the way to gan this morning, Netanel picked up a stick - his sword - to fight the "bad guys". 

Me: Netanel, who are the "bad guys'?

N: I don't know. Just bad guys. we need to fight them.

Me: why?

N: because they're bothering us.

Me: Like Odeliya bothered you this morning.

--Silence.
Me: Do remember what I told you this morning, when you kicked her back?

Netanel nods.

Me: Netanel, you want to be a leader in the army, right? 

N: No! I want to be a fighter.

Me: The commanders are the best fighters, that's how they get to be leaders. When someone is hurting you, if you just try to hurt them back you're going to be fighting forever. What you need to do is find a way to make them stop hurting you. In the army, sometimes the only way to do that means that people get hurt, but not always.

And in your life, Netanel, it's never ok. With Odeliya, with kids in gan - because they're not bad guys! Right? (he nods. he's dragging his stick on the floor at the point.) Is you're sister a "bad guy"?

N: No.

Me: what about the kids in your gan?

N: no.

Me: so when they hurt you, or bother you, the answer is not to hurt them back, what's the answer?

N: To get them to stop hurting me.

Me: right. Netanel, if you can show us that you understand that, if you can find a way to resolve these fights without hurting anyone, then you can be the best fighter in the army.

I don't know how much he grasped, but it's a start.

Heard in the Backyard

Netanel has a friend over and they were playing in the backyard. I keep hearing snippets of their conversation...
Here's one of them: (remember they're 5 - and this is translated from the Hebrew they were speaking)


Netanel: Right, he was old and that's why he had problems?
Friend: Yes, and when children grow up their parents die.
Netanel: Not true, my father is grown up and his parents are still alive.

Some recent pictures...

Cuz I've been remiss:

That's me hiking at night at the Jordan river with six adorable seminary girls!

Yitzchak in all his fleecy yumminess!

My little Diva - she chose her own clothes!!

Mommy's pride!

Notice the snail that they are observing, this is why it takes us an hour and a half to get to gan!

Odeliya and Yitzchak having a tea party in their "club house" (i.e. large cardboard box that Yoram snagged from work)

Hope you enjoy my kids as much as I do!