So. I know it appears I have fallen off the grid, or blogosphere, or whatever, but it's been a hell of a month. Between Kid #1 breaking his arm and Kid #2 having his tonsils and adenoids removed and the start of the school year with a husband who is perpetually out of town for work, I've been a little tied up. My life for the past four weeks has consisted mostly of whipping out insurance cards, filling prescriptions, attempting to get my kids to actually take said prescriptions and not spit them back in my face, filling out PTA forms on three hours of sleep and then trying not to act surprised when I'm told that I've offered on those forms to volunteer at my kids' schools way more than I actually intended to.
In the midst of all this the Jewish calendar year is coming to a close.
It's funny, when the Christian calendar ends in December there are champagne toasts and resolutions to go to the gym.
Kishinu oref – We have been stubborn with our children when we should have been flexible.
That time I insisted on an 8:00 bedtime not because they were tired but because I was tired. Of them.
And that time I insisted they wear pants when maybe they were just trying to break free from the confines that society (and The Gap) puts on them.
And that time I insisted that coloring be confined to paper and that toilet paper snowstorms are not acceptable pieces of performance art. Maybe they were just expressing themselves.
Although after four years at an art school I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between self-expression and total crap.
Wait, never mind, most people who go to art school actually can't tell the difference between self-expression and total crap.
Rashanu – We have acted as though the rules of our homes do not apply to us.
That time I said a four letter word and then got mad when my son repeated it two days later.
Even though a part of me was proud of him for using it in the correct context.
And that time I stayed up past my bedtime playing Candy Crush.
Shichatnu—We have let ourselves be angry, and become angry more easily than we become calm.
That time I lost it because I couldn't stand being asked to open one more juice box, find one more toy, or clean up one more spilled bowl of goldfish. And played dumb when my husband asked why the kids were playing a game where they went into the laundry room, shut the door and screamed at the top of their lungs.
Tiavnu – We have worshiped idols of materialism and superficiality and have taught our children to do the same.
That time I downloaded the app for Birchbox. And Stitch Fix. And Nordstrom.
And that time Kid #2 told his friend he would order him some new toys on Amazon. And asked if his friend used Amazon Prime because it has free two-day shipping.
And that time when I considered buying the UPS man a holiday present because he knows me better than my husband does.
Ta’inu – We have gone astray and have been an unworthy example for our children.
That time I accused my husband of enjoying his business trips because he gets uninterrupted sleep and meals where he can eat without someone sitting on his lap.
Oh God, I hope there's not someone sitting on his lap.
My children should know that their father works really hard and that having to stay at a Courtyard by Marriott -or anywhere that doesn't boast a Heavenly Bed - is really not a treat at all.
Sarnu – We have deliberately turned away from respecting authority, yet we expect our children to respect us.
That time I told my first grader that his math homework was absolutely ridiculous and then made him complete it anyway.
I need to respect that kids are being taught to do math ass-backwards and that the government is making it needlessly complicated in order to level out the playing field and ensure that no American will be able to compete with India and Asia in the future. Except maybe the Indian-Americans and Asian-Americans because they're all at Kumon after school learning actual math facts and not weird ways to do multiplication that don't involve carrying the one.
Oh and that time I didn't wear my seatbelt but told my kids they had to or else they would go to jail.
So. After reading through this list a few things are clear. One, that I am really tired. Tiredness oozes out of all my bad decisions and wraps around my lies and shortcuts like a blanket.
A really soft, cozy down-filled blanket.
It seems to me that in the coming year I need to make more of an effort to get some sleep. My kids are all more or less sleeping through the night and with the help of my "friends" Tylenol PM and Mr. Eearplugs I should be too, if I could just stop staying up until 11:30 working on projects, blogging, and playing Candy Crush.
Maybe then I will have the energy to answer questions like "What makes fruit fruity" and "Why do snakes live underground?" and "Why is tonight called tonight?" without mumbling "Ummm because God made it that way."
Maybe I will match all of the socks laying around in my laundry room and clean the kitchen floor even though I know it's going to be filthy again ten minutes later.
Maybe.
I could also use a little more patience, a lot less profanity, and a little bit of tolerance to help me deal with my stubborn-as-hell three year old, a husband who is out of town every week and the moms at preschool who park their ginormous SUV's in three parking spaces. I need to realize that sometimes it really is crucial that you get the red cup to drink out of and not the blue one and that those other preschool moms put their Lululemon yoga pants on one leg at a time just like I do.
And that no matter how much money you pay for workout clothes they're never going to do the actual working out for you.
Happy New Year!
When the Jewish year ends there is Manischewiz and repentance. Instead of looking forward to the year ahead and filling it with goals we will never meet, we look back on the year that has been and are filled with guilt.
Typical.
But when you think about it it makes sense. Who really wants to hit the treadmill the day after gorging on matzoh balls and brisket? Better to beat ourselves up over the ways we failed in the past year to live up to our potential as a friend, teacher or parent.
Seriously, there's a prayer where we actually punch ourselves in the chest.
And that is the prayer that I want to talk - er, blog - about. The Vidui. It's a prayer of communal repentance for all of the ways we have erred in the past year, and we say it during Yom Kippur services while thumping our fists against our chest or stomping our feet to really get the point ccross. We screwed up and we feel bad about it.
I recently read an article by another blogger in which the Vidui was translated and converted into a parents' prayer of repentance. I read through the list and it made me think about all of the ways I have screwed up this year as a mother of three. To say it hit home would be like saying I have my hands full. Duh.
Even though the tradition on the High Holidays is to confess our sins to yourself and to God privately, I thought I'd share my own personal failings as an act of coming clean. Since my time at synagogue tomorrow will be spent chasing my children anyway, the internet will have to be my confessional.
Ashamnu – We have trespassed onto our children’s privacy and independence by hovering.
That time when I barged in on my son while he was going to the bathroom. Oh wait, no, that was him trespassing on me. I apologize on his behalf. My kids don't text or have facebook accounts yet so I guess I'm off the hook for this one for a couple of years.
Bagadnu – We have done improper things, and have convinced ourselves that our actions were in our childrens’ best interests.
That time I used wet wipes on my toddler and called it a bath because it was late and we were all tired and a fight with my husband over who was washing whose hair might have resulted in someone's drowning.
And that time I fed my one-year-old suckers nonstop for the duration of a ten minute drive to keep him from falling asleep so that he would take a good long nap at home--because I really needed a good long nap.
And that time I convinced myself that the dirt in my son's mouth was full of "good bacteria" that would build his immune system and improve his gut chemistry when in fact it was really just dirt but I was out of snacks (and ideas) for the afternoon.
Gazalnu – We have robbed our children by not giving them our full attention when we are with them.
That time when I was on my phone googling "schizophrenic three year old" instead of watching while my kid lay kicking and screaming on the ground because, well, to this day I still have no idea what that tantrum was about.
And that time Kid #1 asked me after I took his picture if I was going to post it on Facebook.
And that other time when he said something cute and then immediately asked me if I was going to write about it in my blog.
Dibarnu dofi – We have spoken slanderously of others, and have done it in front of our children.
That time my six year old told me he can't wait to be a grown up so he can talk about other grown ups with me. That's right, I'm raising a yenta.
He’evinu – We have caused our children to sin by not showing them the right way to act.
That time I forgot to use my words and hit the wall with my hand because I had just stepped on a Lego person with my bare foot and THAT SHIT HURTS.
And then got mad at Kid #2 when he hit his brother because he pulled his hair and that shit hurts too.
V’hirshanu – We have caused others to do evil by encouraging our child’s bad behavior.
That time I laughed at Kid #3 for taking all his clothes off in the driveway and the next thing I knew all three kids were streaking down the street.
Although, it's hard to be sorry for that one. My kids do have the cutest tushies.
Zadnu – We have scorned the honor of our own parents.
That time I was convinced that by folding my laundry, cleaning my house and watching my kids for three hours my mother was trying to make me look bad when really she was just being herself.
And that time I cringed because I heard myself say "Life's not fair" and realized I am becoming my mother.
And that time I realized that no matter how close I come I will never be as tough or as together as my mother and hated her a little for setting the bar so high.
Hamasnu – We have touched our children in anger.
Ha. Like I'm going to admit to that one. I don't need child services called on me. Again.
But that's another blog post for later in the year when I'm not feeling so forgiving...
Tafalnu sheker – We have venerated and associated ourselves with people who are poor role models for our children.
That time I let my kids watch Elmo and he turned out to be a child molester.
And that time I let my kids watch Miley Cyrus videos on You Tube. And I'm not talking Party in the USA.
And that time I let my kids watch anything on The Disney Channel. Because let's face it, every one of those innocent little child stars is the next Miley.
Yaatznu ra – We have given our children bad advice.
That time I told my kids that "sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt you." I've suffered way more in my lifetime from verbal abuse than physical, and those scars take a hell of a lot longer to heal.
Kizavnu – We have lied, whether for a good reason or not.
That time I told my kids that my candy was medicine. And that their medicine was candy.
And that time I told my kids that Caillou went on vacation because I just couldn't watch one more episode of that whiny bald four-year-old.
Seriously, does anyone know why Caillou has no hair?
And that time I told my four-year-old that ginger ale was bubbly because God made it that way. Obvs God has more important things to do than make his own soda.
And that time I told my six-year-old that I would never ever leave him and I'l always be there for him no matter what. I just know that one's going to bite me in the ass one day and unfortunately I won't be around to tell him I was just trying to protect his innocence a little while longer.
Niatsnu – We have used profane language in front of our children.
Wait, that's a thing I'm supposed to be sorry for? Fuck.
Sararnu – We have yelled at our children for being disobedient, but have been disobedient ourselves.
That time I yelled at my kids for saying 'stupid' and 'hate' and five minutes later told them how much I hated the stupid army guy that I just stepped on.
And that time I yelled ay my kids for lying about who hit who first and then lied and said it was daddy who ate the last cookie.
And that time I yelled at my kids when really it was me that should have been yelled at. And then I made them apologize when I should have been apologizing.
Pashanu – We have denied Judaism in our homes.
Pepperoni pizza on Shabbat. Cheerios during Passover. Shrimp cocktail.
Because with Jews it's always about the food, am I right?
Tzararnu – We have stirred the pot of gossip against our fellow parents and have encouraged bad feelings between parents.
OK, I don't play mah-jong so this one really doesn't apply to me because I hear that's where all the gossip gets stirred.
Typical.
But when you think about it it makes sense. Who really wants to hit the treadmill the day after gorging on matzoh balls and brisket? Better to beat ourselves up over the ways we failed in the past year to live up to our potential as a friend, teacher or parent.
Seriously, there's a prayer where we actually punch ourselves in the chest.
And that is the prayer that I want to talk - er, blog - about. The Vidui. It's a prayer of communal repentance for all of the ways we have erred in the past year, and we say it during Yom Kippur services while thumping our fists against our chest or stomping our feet to really get the point ccross. We screwed up and we feel bad about it.
I recently read an article by another blogger in which the Vidui was translated and converted into a parents' prayer of repentance. I read through the list and it made me think about all of the ways I have screwed up this year as a mother of three. To say it hit home would be like saying I have my hands full. Duh.
Even though the tradition on the High Holidays is to confess our sins to yourself and to God privately, I thought I'd share my own personal failings as an act of coming clean. Since my time at synagogue tomorrow will be spent chasing my children anyway, the internet will have to be my confessional.
Ashamnu – We have trespassed onto our children’s privacy and independence by hovering.
That time when I barged in on my son while he was going to the bathroom. Oh wait, no, that was him trespassing on me. I apologize on his behalf. My kids don't text or have facebook accounts yet so I guess I'm off the hook for this one for a couple of years.
Bagadnu – We have done improper things, and have convinced ourselves that our actions were in our childrens’ best interests.
That time I used wet wipes on my toddler and called it a bath because it was late and we were all tired and a fight with my husband over who was washing whose hair might have resulted in someone's drowning.
And that time I fed my one-year-old suckers nonstop for the duration of a ten minute drive to keep him from falling asleep so that he would take a good long nap at home--because I really needed a good long nap.
And that time I convinced myself that the dirt in my son's mouth was full of "good bacteria" that would build his immune system and improve his gut chemistry when in fact it was really just dirt but I was out of snacks (and ideas) for the afternoon.
Gazalnu – We have robbed our children by not giving them our full attention when we are with them.
That time when I was on my phone googling "schizophrenic three year old" instead of watching while my kid lay kicking and screaming on the ground because, well, to this day I still have no idea what that tantrum was about.
And that time Kid #1 asked me after I took his picture if I was going to post it on Facebook.
And that other time when he said something cute and then immediately asked me if I was going to write about it in my blog.
Dibarnu dofi – We have spoken slanderously of others, and have done it in front of our children.
That time my six year old told me he can't wait to be a grown up so he can talk about other grown ups with me. That's right, I'm raising a yenta.
He’evinu – We have caused our children to sin by not showing them the right way to act.
That time I forgot to use my words and hit the wall with my hand because I had just stepped on a Lego person with my bare foot and THAT SHIT HURTS.
And then got mad at Kid #2 when he hit his brother because he pulled his hair and that shit hurts too.
V’hirshanu – We have caused others to do evil by encouraging our child’s bad behavior.
That time I laughed at Kid #3 for taking all his clothes off in the driveway and the next thing I knew all three kids were streaking down the street.
Although, it's hard to be sorry for that one. My kids do have the cutest tushies.
Zadnu – We have scorned the honor of our own parents.
That time I was convinced that by folding my laundry, cleaning my house and watching my kids for three hours my mother was trying to make me look bad when really she was just being herself.
And that time I cringed because I heard myself say "Life's not fair" and realized I am becoming my mother.
And that time I realized that no matter how close I come I will never be as tough or as together as my mother and hated her a little for setting the bar so high.
Hamasnu – We have touched our children in anger.
Ha. Like I'm going to admit to that one. I don't need child services called on me. Again.
But that's another blog post for later in the year when I'm not feeling so forgiving...
Tafalnu sheker – We have venerated and associated ourselves with people who are poor role models for our children.
That time I let my kids watch Elmo and he turned out to be a child molester.
And that time I let my kids watch Miley Cyrus videos on You Tube. And I'm not talking Party in the USA.
And that time I let my kids watch anything on The Disney Channel. Because let's face it, every one of those innocent little child stars is the next Miley.
Yaatznu ra – We have given our children bad advice.
That time I told my kids that "sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt you." I've suffered way more in my lifetime from verbal abuse than physical, and those scars take a hell of a lot longer to heal.
Kizavnu – We have lied, whether for a good reason or not.
That time I told my kids that my candy was medicine. And that their medicine was candy.
And that time I told my kids that Caillou went on vacation because I just couldn't watch one more episode of that whiny bald four-year-old.
Seriously, does anyone know why Caillou has no hair?
And that time I told my four-year-old that ginger ale was bubbly because God made it that way. Obvs God has more important things to do than make his own soda.
And that time I told my six-year-old that I would never ever leave him and I'l always be there for him no matter what. I just know that one's going to bite me in the ass one day and unfortunately I won't be around to tell him I was just trying to protect his innocence a little while longer.
Niatsnu – We have used profane language in front of our children.
Wait, that's a thing I'm supposed to be sorry for? Fuck.
Sararnu – We have yelled at our children for being disobedient, but have been disobedient ourselves.
That time I yelled at my kids for saying 'stupid' and 'hate' and five minutes later told them how much I hated the stupid army guy that I just stepped on.
And that time I yelled ay my kids for lying about who hit who first and then lied and said it was daddy who ate the last cookie.
And that time I yelled at my kids when really it was me that should have been yelled at. And then I made them apologize when I should have been apologizing.
Pashanu – We have denied Judaism in our homes.
Pepperoni pizza on Shabbat. Cheerios during Passover. Shrimp cocktail.
Because with Jews it's always about the food, am I right?
Tzararnu – We have stirred the pot of gossip against our fellow parents and have encouraged bad feelings between parents.
OK, I don't play mah-jong so this one really doesn't apply to me because I hear that's where all the gossip gets stirred.
But I have been known to linger in the preschool parking lot to discuss whose kid bit who and who really needs therapy (turns out it was my kid who bit and I really need therapy)...
Kishinu oref – We have been stubborn with our children when we should have been flexible.
That time I insisted on an 8:00 bedtime not because they were tired but because I was tired. Of them.
And that time I insisted they wear pants when maybe they were just trying to break free from the confines that society (and The Gap) puts on them.
And that time I insisted that coloring be confined to paper and that toilet paper snowstorms are not acceptable pieces of performance art. Maybe they were just expressing themselves.
Although after four years at an art school I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between self-expression and total crap.
Wait, never mind, most people who go to art school actually can't tell the difference between self-expression and total crap.
Rashanu – We have acted as though the rules of our homes do not apply to us.
That time I said a four letter word and then got mad when my son repeated it two days later.
Even though a part of me was proud of him for using it in the correct context.
And that time I stayed up past my bedtime playing Candy Crush.
Shichatnu—We have let ourselves be angry, and become angry more easily than we become calm.
That time I lost it because I couldn't stand being asked to open one more juice box, find one more toy, or clean up one more spilled bowl of goldfish. And played dumb when my husband asked why the kids were playing a game where they went into the laundry room, shut the door and screamed at the top of their lungs.
Tiavnu – We have worshiped idols of materialism and superficiality and have taught our children to do the same.
That time I downloaded the app for Birchbox. And Stitch Fix. And Nordstrom.
And that time Kid #2 told his friend he would order him some new toys on Amazon. And asked if his friend used Amazon Prime because it has free two-day shipping.
And that time when I considered buying the UPS man a holiday present because he knows me better than my husband does.
Ta’inu – We have gone astray and have been an unworthy example for our children.
That time I accused my husband of enjoying his business trips because he gets uninterrupted sleep and meals where he can eat without someone sitting on his lap.
Oh God, I hope there's not someone sitting on his lap.
My children should know that their father works really hard and that having to stay at a Courtyard by Marriott -or anywhere that doesn't boast a Heavenly Bed - is really not a treat at all.
Sarnu – We have deliberately turned away from respecting authority, yet we expect our children to respect us.
That time I told my first grader that his math homework was absolutely ridiculous and then made him complete it anyway.
I need to respect that kids are being taught to do math ass-backwards and that the government is making it needlessly complicated in order to level out the playing field and ensure that no American will be able to compete with India and Asia in the future. Except maybe the Indian-Americans and Asian-Americans because they're all at Kumon after school learning actual math facts and not weird ways to do multiplication that don't involve carrying the one.
Oh and that time I didn't wear my seatbelt but told my kids they had to or else they would go to jail.
So. After reading through this list a few things are clear. One, that I am really tired. Tiredness oozes out of all my bad decisions and wraps around my lies and shortcuts like a blanket.
A really soft, cozy down-filled blanket.
It seems to me that in the coming year I need to make more of an effort to get some sleep. My kids are all more or less sleeping through the night and with the help of my "friends" Tylenol PM and Mr. Eearplugs I should be too, if I could just stop staying up until 11:30 working on projects, blogging, and playing Candy Crush.
Maybe then I will have the energy to answer questions like "What makes fruit fruity" and "Why do snakes live underground?" and "Why is tonight called tonight?" without mumbling "Ummm because God made it that way."
Maybe I will match all of the socks laying around in my laundry room and clean the kitchen floor even though I know it's going to be filthy again ten minutes later.
Maybe.
I could also use a little more patience, a lot less profanity, and a little bit of tolerance to help me deal with my stubborn-as-hell three year old, a husband who is out of town every week and the moms at preschool who park their ginormous SUV's in three parking spaces. I need to realize that sometimes it really is crucial that you get the red cup to drink out of and not the blue one and that those other preschool moms put their Lululemon yoga pants on one leg at a time just like I do.
And that no matter how much money you pay for workout clothes they're never going to do the actual working out for you.
Happy New Year!
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