CIM #1

A Classic Israeli Moment:

When a mother brings her piano-recorder to the park, and plays a simple tune for her crawling child. Like a pied piper, her music attracts the attention of other children in the park, and everyone--child and parent alike--wanders over to stand and gawk at her. Soon, a circle of moms/nannies and children rings the woman, and song requests are shouted at the woman. She complies, as the older caretakers start clapping their hands in rhythm and interrupt occasionally to argue over the lyrics. Since Pesach is coming soon, everyone sings traditional/common songs about Pesach.

Declan takes me by the hand, tells me to sit so he can crawl into my lap (alas, I can only squat as I was cradling his little sister) and joins everyone else around the circle of music appreciators.

sigh

I don't know what I'm doing with my life.

On one hand, I do know. It's simple. Take care of the kids. Take care of the home.

And yet.

I really don't know.

The times I'm happy are the brief flashes when I get to talk about silly, non-kid-related, shallow, flighty topics like the Oscars or unrealistically handsome Korean actors with Jess and Andrea. I think I really miss my close friends. That's one thing.

The other thing is that I...[baby crying. finish this thought later]

this lenten season

The pastor of my local church in Pittsburgh posted this on Facebook yesterday: "A 'positive added spin' on lent? Many Christians practice lent (started yesterday) as a way to identify with and focus on the suffering of Jesus for us. Many of us decide to give up something for lent. This is good but perhaps we can take a page from the reason why Christian fast and apply it here? We don't fast for the sake of fasting, and we don't fast to show how devoted we are to God. We fast so we can use that time to focus on God and drawing close to Him. In fasting, there is giving up of something (eating), and also taking up of something (seeking God). For lent this year, maybe we can give up something, but also take up something like spending more time with God weekly, or showing concrete actions of love to someone once a day..."

It really got me thinking. I've never really done the resolution-y giving up something for the Lenten season in the past before. Some of the things people give up just sound like self-help opportunities, and the whole culture of it can get pretty ridiculous. So I'd reactionarily abstained from participating. 

But perhaps there is something to be said about marking a season, observing a period of time, preparing my own heart for the advent of Easter, to fully appreciate what that means. Historically, giving up something for Lent is for the sake of anticipating fulfillment with the Resurrection of the Messiah. Physically, that's not fully possible if one has not acutely felt deprivation in some way.

Given my former pastor's insight on the matter, I think I will give up something and take up something else this Lenten season. I will (attempt to) give up my attitude of/tendency towards entitlement. Towards complaining and focusing on what's lacking in my life, towards feeling wronged when I have to work a little harder than what I perceive my husband's doing, towards feeling jealous and discontented when I see other friends thriving in their PhD programs/careers or other moms getting a break by having family help or traveling home. I will take up praying more in trusting God that He will provide, in picking up and reading the Bible on a more frequent basis. This, all, in preparation for more fully appreciating Easter, on that day.

jumbled thoughts

My cousin May took her two young children back to Taiwan for Chinese new year celebrations this year. Looking at her pictures of the Taiwanese background made me miss home so much. Even more than Thanksgiving in the US...that's saying something. I guess, in the end, for all the uncomfortable awkwardness of my more Anglo-inclinations, Taiwan is still the closest thing to my idea of home. Having married an American whose job prospects seem to enjoy the best options in the US, I'm not sure if I'll be able to return. Our children are being raised to speak mostly English right now, and some smattering of Hebrew at the parks. (Declan, of his own volition, said, "Toda" to another boy who returned his toy dump truck at the park this morning.) The desire for my children, if I ever have any, speaking Chinese fluently, had been a main reason why for the longest time I wouldn't date anyone whose mother tongue isn't Chinese. I guess life always turns out completely differently from one's plans.

I'm a bit torn right now about whether Declan should go to gan or not. On one hand, it'd allow me to focus fully on Petra during the day so that she could enjoy some semblance of Declan's babyhood. Not to mention sanity, perhaps, for me in not dealing with two young children at once. On the other hand, am I really ready for us to be apart for that much time during the week? I took Declan and Petra to the park across the street from our apartment this morning. It was around 9am when we got there, and I had a chance to mingle with the few moms that were already there. They were super friendly and Declan played quite nicely with their boys (around the same age as him). I would miss this if he's not around; just as I'm starting to build a rapport with the moms at Hila's as well.

Well, maybe gan won't even be an option, and then that's not an issue I even need to dwell on.

blue

It's another Friday-Saturday weekend again, something uniquely Israel which I'm still having difficulty getting used to even after more than five months of living here.

Maybe the weekends would feel less blah if I had friends, real friends, to hang out with here. I know nice people here, but they're either of the cocktail-party variety or we just don't know each other long enough yet to really be friends the way I have/had friends in the places before here. And now with two young kids in tow, it's that much harder to get connected and develop/deepen these friendships. Someone called earlier to ask if I want to have Shabbot dinner with them i.e. order in sushi and pizza and eat at their place. Which sounds truly lovely, except her place is hard to get to with kids, leaving them home is not a good option, and I have a fatigue headache anyway.

So the weekdays are stressful, and the weekends are still unpleasant. And this will continue for at least another year. I keep reminding myself that happiness is pointless/elusive as a goal. It is merely a lucky by-product, if it appears, of going through life fulfilling my responsibilities. Except...

I feel like I'm failing at life every day. The hours are in monochrome.

recent...achievements (?)

I hesitate to call them achievements because they would seem like such big no-big-deals to my single alter ego, if I were the same age but not married and/or have kids.  For some reason, though, having kid(s) often render me a puddle of water prone to feeling the full extent of my failure, burdened by the immense responsibility of raising up humans that don't end up becoming serial killers.

Sometimes just getting out of the house, or even staying home all day but not losing my temper at the children/husband is major, major victory. Yes, I think becoming a parent really opened my eyes to how frail I am. Physically, emotionally, spiritually.

And so I give thanks for even the most simple things, like:

- Wednesday morning: Walking to and back from Mommy & Me in Vardiya with Petra in a sling; the first time since three weeks ago when I gave birth to her. Remembering to bring an umbrella so Petra didn't get soaked by the sudden downpour when we were five minutes away from Hila's.

- Wednesday night: My mom left Israel after helping with the newborn for the last three weeks, and panic had set in as the evening deepened... As the sun rose today, I am so grateful that I actually feel not in pain but semi-rested despite not having my mom to help hold the baby so I can catch up on sleep in between night feedings. Admittedly, Elizabeth held Petra so I could go to bed early while she stayed up to watch some shows on the DVD machine. So I guess the real test of independence in raising a baby and toddler simultaneously will come when I'm truly alone. (Gulp.)

- Thursday morning (today): Allyson told me about a La Leche meeting and it so happened to take place at 10am just five minutes walk from my place, at Merkaz Maof. I had to ask a store owner (in Hebrew!) where it is. The group accommodated me by speaking mostly in English, switching to Hebrew when in heated discussion (I love how openly opinionated Israelis are!). I'm so thankful that Elizabeth woke up in time to babysit Declan, as I was planning to bring both kids. That would have been a terrible, terrible idea.

- Thursday afternoon: I used yad2 to find a night light/small lamp for the baby's night changing table. I'm proud of this "feat" because the website was in Hebrew, but I figured it out with Google Translate and contacted the seller. Thank goodness he speaks English, and we finalized the transaction after I came home from the La Leche meeting. I'm actually looking forward to changing Petra's diaper in the wee hours tonight.

baby's first outings

Yesterday was the first time, not counting the car ride home from the midwife's home and the one short sojourn to the park across the street from the apartment, that Petra and I really went anywhere. As it happened, we had to break the rules of Chinese postpartum traditions and catch the bus in the rain yesterday to make a passport and declaration of birth appointment at the US consulate in the German Colony. Then today, there was Emily's birthday gathering at Gal's Bakery.

The weather had been sunny and just plain gorgeous with bright blue sky the last week, so of course, it turns gray, cold, and ruthlessly breezy with sporadic heavy geshem starting the day before yesterday. Every time I think dark thoughts about rainy days in Israel, I feel guilty, because everyone here is always saying how great the rain is and how much the nation needs it. Which is true. And it's kind of lame for me to complain when ten months out of twelve, it almost never ever rains.

I am grateful that Elizabeth could stay home to watch Declan while Daniel, my mom, and I caught the no. 23 bus in the rain. Daniel wore Petra in a Wallaboo sling, and she basically slept the whole way to the consulate and awoke as we were leaving to take a big poo. (And then another right after we changed her on the dining table at Fattoush, an excellent Arab restaurant a stone's throw's away from the consulate.) In my attempt to eat healthier, I chose a large salad for lunch rather than the fried calamari, an item I would usually get whenever it's on the menu.

I am not going to write in detail about the unnecessarily arrogant manner in which the consulate official addressed our convoluted paperwork, of which our "problems are manifold." Suffice it to say that it was pretty clear he thought it was stupid of us to have chosen a home birth, as the resulting documents are currently making it very difficult for us to get an accurate birth certificate for Petra as well as identify Daniel as Petra's father and legal guardian. My having a different last name as Daniel, our having been married outside of Israel, and our not being Israeli citizens or Jewish made things difficult for us at the misrad hapnim. Yes, our documents don't quite match up, due to a variety of reasons outside of our control, and yes, thankfully the officer was still helpful enough to issue us affidavits (first time ever at the consulate in Haifa, apparently!) of our daughter's parentage and our legal connections. But no, he really didn't need to spout little snarky comments along the way such as "You make certain decisions, and you face the consequences." As if to imply that if I had given birth at a hospital, and allowed the hospital system to handle all the paperwork thereafter, we would not be in our situation now. I am still damn glad I gave birth not at a hospital, as my process in giving birth to Petra was a lot more empowering/amazing/easy to recover from than when I had to plow through the mandatory procedures in the hospital while in labor with Declan.

Today's gathering occurred under even worse weather, but I thought it important to show up for a friend's birthday celebration. As it turned out, Israelis really like to hang out in coffee shops on rainy Friday mornings/afternoons. All the cafes in Merkaz HaCarmel were packed, and the plan to hang out and celebrate Emily's birthday at Gal's Bakery was a no-go. After much, much hemming and hawing outside the now-defunct Reuben's. sandwich shop, most of the people who showed up decided to return home. I was worried about how the cold would be affecting Petra, who was sleeping in the pocket sling Daniel's wearing, so I said we really need to get a move on. Eventually Krystal bought a cake from the bakery and three people besides us (and including Emily) came over to our home for cake and tea.

I also bought a sweater/coat at Dreadlocks, a small, surprisingly affordable clothes boutique en route to Emily's birthday celebration. Hopefully I'll be able to get some wear in it before the weather turns warm again. Elizabeth was game enough to buy the same article in another color so that we could get the "buy one, get one half off" deal. Overall, these two days have been the most happening days since Petra's birth. It's nice to get out of the house a bit.