My new hobby...

A few friends have asked me recently why I haven't been writing as much the past month or so.  While I have had lots of creative juices flowing, I have actually been using a few other outlets.  First of all, I have been doing a lot more writing in my personal journal, which had kind of taken side line since I started blogging.  I have also started a new kind of art that I am just beginning to experiment with.  This first drawing I made for Yoni for his promotion to Captain.  I used pencil and water color marker to draw the C-17 and then wrote Tehillim 121 (Psalm 121) around it in Hebrew and English.  Pardon the glare from the flash of the camera...I probably should have turned the flash off, but this will do...

Then I made another fun project.  I just did this one last week and I already see a few parts that I want to fix up a bit, but here's a picture of the first draft.  I used pastels which I have never used as a medium for art before, so I am just learning.  The Hebrew is the blessings you say after eating food, so I drew foods all around.  If I do an updated drawing in the next few weeks, I will try to remember to post a picture.  I purposely put the pastels on a separate paper from the Hebrew I wrote so that I can redo one while keeping the other.  I hung this on the wall in our eating area as an encouragement to keep with my attempts this year at always remembering to say the blessing when I finish eating.

Life as a painting... and where we stand when we view it.

Since my first year in college, when I began delving into the depth of a Jewish world view, I have combined many different explanations and analogies within my mind to understand this world and our purpose in it.

One of the first analogies I heard has always stuck with me.  At each stage in our life, we are drawing a few lines and putting different splotches of color onto a canvas.  Sometimes it can look pretty or seem exciting or boring, or even dreary.  Only at the end of our life can we step back from the canvas to see how all of those random colors and lines blend together to form a beautiful painting.  

This analogy has also helped me at different points in my life when I struggled with emuna (faith).  If I believe G-d's hand is guiding the paintbrush, even those big black splotches have meaning and make a positive contribution to the painting as a whole.

Freshman year of college, on one of my first weekends back home, I tried to apply this analogy to my life with the following poem:

(written November 23, 2004)

Every place has a story.

I walk down the street and memories race.

How can so much meaning

be embedded in a place?

The world is my canvas,

but up to this time

I had only walked along

a thinly drawn line.

And along that line,

I knew it all.

Now reimmersed,

I so easily recall.

With every step I take,

I remember the feel.

My naive perceptions of life

once again seem real.

But although on some layer

that line remains,

the picture around it is forming

and its essence is changed...

Now why have I started thinking of this analogy over the past week?

I've started to look at relationships as paintings.  When we're in the day to day involvements of a relationship, we see only the color splotches and lines.  We see it so close up that a little splotch that's not exactly where it's supposed to be can nag at us or become bothersome.  We analyze the line formations.

When you have a distance relationship for a few months, you take a few steps back from the painting.  You see and appreciate the beautiful picture formed by all those little lines and splotches.  Now, as Yoni has returned home, I try to keep that big picture in mind.

On a happier day... :)

In the days following my last post, I got a number of people calling or e-mailing to check in and make sure I was doing alright.  First of all, thank you everyone for caring and being there!  In a way, I started to feel bad for posting when I was feeling at the low point of the week.  Most of my week, I hadn't felt so frustrated and impatient and at wits end.  But on Thursday I did, and that's when I wrote my blog.  I think subconsciously, I did this on purpose.  As people have since explained to me, I am really good at conveying a facade of being perfectly in control of everything.  The truth is, I always want to feel put together, so even when the stress starts getting to me, I don't allow others to see it so easily.  And then the stress or overwhelmed feeling reaches a certain point where I can no longer completely ignore its existence, and by then my reaction to it is at least a 9 on a scale of 1 to 10!  Sorry for the math analogy yet again, but while my stress level was slowly rising ... 2 ... 3... 4 ... 7 ... 8... I was still putting on the happy face.  Then I hit a 9 and I felt very alone at a 9 because most of the people in my life still thought I had everything in control and I was still at a 2 or 3.

So a part of me wanted to reach out and let people know that one or two days a week, I am feeling pretty bad about Yoni's absence and I need your support.  I know asking for it directly would be best, but I am not the best at asking for things, even when it is things like emotional support.

But thank you to everybody who got the message and gave it to me.  I have to say that since Thursday night, thank G-d, I have been in such a better place.  I attribute this completely to the people in my life who reached out and took some of the burden off of my shoulders simply through empathizing.

We had a really lovely Shabbat.  Thank you Gallors for being so sweet and agreeing to do a later lunch so that my kids could get their normal nap and we could still eat out and enjoy lovely company for the seuda. (By the way, while I was waiting for Adina to wake up because we needed to go to the Gallors to eat, she took the longest nap that she has taken since Yoni left.  I ended up waking her up after over 3 hours....Go figure :-P)

Then today started out disastrous.  Libby woke me up at 4 AM because she was being taunted by a raccoon outside.  It took nearly an hour and a half to calm her down and then by the time I finally fell asleep, I spent exactly 15 minutes in dream land until Mr. Ze'ev woke up.  Then between the heat (Seattle doesn't believe in central air conditioning) and the lack of structure inherent in Sundays, the kids were both in "lovely" moods today.  It could have gotten me down.  But still feeling all of the support shown in the past few days, I dealt with each moment as it came and did not allow myself to get worked up (too much).  Then Sasha saved me from the post-nap "fun moods" by inviting us over to play in their backyard.  (Thank you!!!!)

So where am I getting with all of this?  Yes, I count the calendar each day.  Yes, I calculate how long until G-d willing Yoni will get to come home.  But when I feel support, when I feel like I am not doing all of this alone, when the littlest bits of kindness brighten each day, it makes those days pass so much more quickly and most importantly, so much more happily.  The happier we are, the faster the days will pass, so it is really in my best interest to make the most of each day and find ways to make them filled with joy.

P.S.  The two best practical pieces of advice I received last week, that have already made a big difference:
1) Close the door when I go to the bathroom and have 2 minutes of private time amidst any ensuing chaos.
2) If the kids have eaten dinner but I am counting down the minutes until bath, put them in the bath early and just let them play for a lot longer than usual.  I can even bring a good book into the bathroom and just hang out while they play and play.

Living by the calendar...

I think I have discovered the most negative aspect of having a mathematical brain.  Countless times each day, I calculate the percentage of the deployment that has passed and how far we still have to go.

On Monday, the day after my Dad left, I thought, "Wow!  It's been almost two weeks already!  That's amazing!  20% done!"
But Monday feels like weeks ago and today I find myself thinking, "Wow.  It has been only just over two weeks.  We still have almost 80% to go!"

Thank G-d, when we are in the midst of the days we are generally doing well.  I try to coordinate activities for the kids as best I can, and as long as they get their sleep and are eating well, they behave pretty nicely and make life doable for me.  Unfortunately, on those days when someone doesn't nap so well or someone refuses to eat everything I put on their plate and therefore gets hungry and cranky, I sorely miss having reinforcements!

I have decided that I for sure need to figure out a new plan for these last 8 weeks.  During the week my parents were here things went great.  But the days before that and the days since then, I find myself walking a tight rope, constantly on the verge of losing my patience.  This is very hard for me, because the parenting skill I have been trying so hard to hone in on in the past year has been my patience.  But when it is tested over and over again all day, with no one on my side, and no relief during waking hours, I would be superhuman if I could maintain it.

Now I have to determine the best strategy to maintain my emotional sanity for the rest of the deployment.  Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. :)

The deployment begins

The week leading up to Yoni's deployment had such an odd feel to it.
On one hand it was wonderful to have him home so much.  He spent more time with the kids in those last four days than he had been able to do in the past few months (if not more).  I had to mentally balance the joy at his presence and involvement with the nudging in the back of my head that all of this intensive time will make the transition that much more difficult for the kids (and me as well).

We mentioned to Adina once on Tuesday night that Aba would be leaving soon to fly the airplane to help people (in hopes she would start mentally preparing), and she stayed up until 9:30 in her crib "thinking."  Then Wednesday arrived.  Since she had been up so late, we had to wake her at 9:00 AM to get to gymnastics class, and then she promptly fell asleep when she got home, and we had to wake both of the kids at 1:30 to head to the Air Force Base.  She seemed very excited at first to see Aba's work and eat ice cream and see the airplane.

Then we watched Aba walk out to the airplane and waved goodbye.

I really can't decide if this was a good idea in retrospect and if we would do it again.  It made the goodbye process seem very drawn out and dramatic.  At the same time, this environment also encourages a happy goodbye rather than a sad one.  But that seemed to make the next day that much harder for me.

Without allowing myself to feel the sad emotions as I said goodbye, I felt them that much more strongly when I woke up Thursday morning and realized I wouldn't get to see Yoni for a few months.  

This allowed me to see another layer in the beauty of Adina's age and her perspective.  She can't comprehend the concept that she won't see him for such a long time.  She can truly take day by day without seeing the future days ahead of her.

While I was feeling emotional this morning, I had a very important realization.

First let me give a little background on the thought process.

For those not familiar with this time of year on the Jewish calendar, we are currently in "the nine days."  These "nine days" are the days between the first day of the month of Av and the ninth of Av.  The 9th of Av, or "Tisha b'Av" is the saddest day of the year, as we remember the destruction of the Temple (and countless other sad events in history which all occur on this auspicious day).  During the 9 days, the gemara explains that we should "lessen our joy."  We don't listen to music, we don't eat meat, and there are numerous other customs which serve as a constant reminder of the mourning.

This week I read an article on Aish.com, by Emuna Braverman on her experience with feeling this sadness.  She said she could never understand the concept of a "constant sadness" until she had the very difficult experience of losing an infant grand daughter.  Now, she says, at every happy occasion, at every moment, she feels the tragedy.  This, she said, is the kind of underlying sadness we should feel in not meriting to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem.

Today I understood what she meant.  Yes, we went about our normal routine, but behind every smile I had an underlying sadness at Yoni's absence.  The world continued on, unaware of our complete shift and transition to an Aba-less home.  But to us it is very real at every moment.

In the moments of tears, I felt for a minute what grief and loss could feel like.  And then I had a moment of intense gratitude that with G-d's help, this is temporary.  This intense sadness will be balanced with an equally intense joy at his return home.

In another Aish article I read today, an author was able to so eloquently convey the beauty of sadness in our lives.

In an excerpt, she writes...

Dear tears, versatile as you are, from somewhere in the past or right here in the present, as you make your way into my life, and then out again, please make sure the trail you leave goes all the way up back to God, so that when I look at you, I can follow your flow. And I can remember where I come from, and where I'm going. And I can remember that everything that transpires is orchestrated by the Grand Gardener who will sometimes water me with tears, so that I can grow...

Reconnecting with old hobbies...

Now that I'm finally (thank G-d!!) getting good night sleeps on a regular basis, I feel like my creative juices are rejuvenated for the first time in a while.  I only have a couple of pages left in Ze'ev's first year scrapbook (I've managed to do this for both kids so far - YAY!) and I even started Adina's "Rest of her childhood" scrapbook where I made three large pages for her second year of life.  Once these are all in their completed forms, I'll probably scan them and post them here.  It's been so nice to scrapbook again.  Not only do I know how much I'll enjoy looking back on these albums in the future, but the process itself is incredibly therapeutic for me.  The process of choosing color schemes, cropping the pictures to different shapes, and arranging it all into an aesthetically pleasing page never fails to put me in a good mood.

I feel so blessed that I have so many hobbies to turn to when I need to take some alone time and decompress.  For this very reason, I have always been completely baffled when people complain of boredom.  If there's not something I have to do, a half a dozen activities await my company.

Another aspect of my teenage years which has deteriorated recently is my writing.  This blog was my first attempt at getting that back, but last week I got inspired to go even further.  I so deeply want to start writing poetry again!  From ages 13-20, I wrote at least 3-4 poems every month - if not more!  This process was similar to scrapbooking in that the writing process relaxed me, but I also composed for the joy I anticipated in reading the words over and over again.

Last week, when Yoni was away, I spent about 10 minutes every night reading through my old poetry.  Writing again might take a little bit of time, because those skills are a lot more rusty than my scrapbooking ones were, but continually reading through my old work is the first step.

Until I am able to write new ones that I deem share-worthy, I have decided to share a couple of the ones that I wrote in the past that still seem pertinent to my life today.

This is one of my most recent - March 2008.  I wrote it with dual meaning.  I felt like it applied to both the process of falling in love and getting married and also the process of becoming more religiously observant.  Both experiences reflect commitment and faith.  Interestingly, when reread today, it can also describe the process of becoming a parent:

A feeling,
A state,
A vision,
A sound;
A touch,
A desire
for something
profound.

A moment,
Eternity,
A future,
A past;
A truth
so real
comes on
so fast.

A thought,
a point
of no
return.
To grow,
to connect,
to strive,
to learn.

To grasp,
To hold,
To know,
To be;
To leap,
To hope,
and trust
in Thee.

The faith,
The courage,
Daring
and strong.
To believe
in depth,
to want,
to long.

To discover,
To seek;
Know me
Through You.
Harmonious
Peace
Pure
and true.

This was a very different style than anything else I had ever written, and I loved being brought back to that moment, months before the wedding, facing a future of adventure.

Where did all the time go?

In motherhood, so much of my day is occupied with taking care of the kids.  The majority of this time is thoroughly enjoyable, such as cuddling to read books, playing games at the park, or taking turns (on end) throwing the kids in the air to a chorus of giggles.
Yet somehow I still manage to find time to cook, clean, and take care of myself the way I always had.  Sometimes I can't help but stop and think what in the world I did with all my time before the kids.  How did I ever run out of time to get things done?  Especially during the year and a half I was unemployed and out of school - what did I do??  If I had that time now, I sometimes think, every single shelf in every cabinet would be perfectly organized.  I would be caught up to date on every single scrapbook.  All those things on my long-term to-do list would be complete.
Yet I had that time and I still managed to run out of it.
This past week, I had a glimpse into the reason why.  For the first time in a very very long time, I devoured a novel.  I couldn't put it down.  I made the kids breakfast, put it on their trays, and once I knew they were happy, I picked it up to steal a few pages before they needed refills.  The minute their eyes closed, the book was in my hand.  I'm not exactly sure that this book was so great.  Yes, it was a good read, but I disagreed with the whole premise.  But that didn't matter at all - the significant element of the experience was the feeling of being lost in a book.
And then it all made sense.
I used to devour books all the time!  That's where all my time went...
Now I just have to decide how often I can indulge in this hobby, because the house is a little dirtier than last week and I haven't quite gotten to folding all the laundry yet...

Two worlds collide

A week and a half ago, Yoni and I (with the kids in tow) traveled to the opposite corner of the country. We went to Miami, Florida for five days! Despite the fact that Miami is quite a nice place to escape Seattle winter, we did not go for the weather. We went to attend the Aleph Institute annual conference and Shabbaton.

"The Aleph Institute is a not-for-profit national educational and humanitarian organization serving the unique needs of Jews in diverse and limited environments such as the military ... and everywhere they and their families can become isolated from their Jewish heritage."

The conference, which took place on Thursday and Friday, was a training and discussion forum for Orthodox Jewish chaplains and lay leaders. Yoni is a Jewish lay leader at JBLM (Joint Base Lewis McChord), so he participated in this training. There were a few programs for spouses, but I spent the majority of the days hanging out with the kids and the other spouses who came along.

On Friday, Yoni took over parenting for one hour as I participated in a life-changing meeting.
Ten frum military wives sat together in a room to discuss the challenges of this unique life. Being a religious Jew makes you a minority. Being a military wife makes you a minority. Being both is nearly unheard of! It almost brought me to tears as I sat in a room with so many other strong, inspirational women who all shared stories which are a direct reflection of my own feelings and my life.

I absolutely love living in the Jewish community here in Seattle. The support is wonderful and the friendships I have made brighten every day. Nevertheless, every single time Yoni is away I get lots of pity parties. There's a lot of "I don't know how you can do that." "I would never be able to do that." etc.
I know this comes from a good place, but the truth is, I don't know exactly how I do it either. If you had asked me two years ago if I would have been able to parent two young children on my own for weeks at a time, I would have said of course not! But Hashem only gives us what we can handle. Since this is the life we have been given, I know I must be able to handle it. And thank G-d, I do. The kids eat, they sleep, and we even have a little bit of fun in the process.

When I sat in a room with these other amazing women, I felt like the lot we've been given is a tremendous gift. One of the other more seasoned military wives told a story of home-schooling 5 children in a middle of nowhere town while her husband was deployed. Another explained how she had 4 school-age children when they lived in Germany. Over the summer, they brought a Jewish day camp to Germany simply so her kids could have somewhere to go.

Not only did these stories inspire me, but befriending these amazing women will prove invaluable. For the first time in years and years, I felt completely understood and belonging to a group of people.

In the military scene, we hang out with very nice people, but being observant Jews sets us apart. In the Jewish community, my friends all have husbands who work for Microsoft or learn at the kollel, or some other "local" job. I have a husband who leaves a few times a month to fly a plane around the world.

In this room, every single person had a life similar to mine. They all have a patriotic husband who is serving his country. They all live an observant Jewish life.

Feeling this camaraderie made us all recognize the importance of defining this group of women and creating some sort of "sisterhood" and support system. I volunteered to spearhead the initiative, so I am currently trying to locate each and every frum military wife that's out there. We are compiling everybody's information and then meeting with the Aleph Institute to determine the best course of action to take.

My ultimate goal, once we have firmly established the wive's group, is to create a kid's support system. My little vision is to have a "camp" for kids the same weekend as the conference and Shabbaton each year. The religious military kids could benefit from the same chizuk (strength) that all of us wives got from coming together and discussing our challenges and learning experiences.

With that, I'll leave you with a picture of Adina Rachel dancing with her shoes in her hands on our balcony overlooking Surfside Beach:

Inspiration for Blog

Being a stay at home parent is a more-than-full-time job. Each day is comprised of diaper change after diaper change after meal time after nursing after boo boos and hugs.... etc. And after a long, tiring day it sounds so nice to put on pajamas and curl up in bed for a good night's sleep. But the children often have different plans for Mommy. The baby needs to nurse at 1 AM. The toddler wakes parched at 4:45 AM, asking for milk. At that point, Mommy doesn't fall back asleep and the day begins! This was my experience last night. So at 5 AM, lying in bed, I decided to start a new blog. I have always enjoyed writing, and I find it very therapeutic. Since becoming a Mom, I don't make time for it as I should. But now is the time that it is most important! Not only will the writing help keep me balanced (providing a little intellectual exercise beyond "Old MacDonald"), but I hope it will help me document so many of the meaningful and educational moments I experience on a daily basis as a parent. Due to the perpetual sleep deprivation, days have a tendency to run together. I turn around, and my children are another month older. What did they learn in that month? What did they teach me? Twenty years from now, will that month have made a difference in our lives?

I hope that through my efforts to sit down at the computer a few days a week and write about these moments, I will begin to internalize each day I spend with the beautiful neshamot I am blessed to spend each day of my life with.

*neshamot - souls