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This article is accurate, and sad.
When we lived in Monsey, one of my neighbors used to say to me every year, “EK, I love all the cleaning and preparing I do for Pesach; the extra work in order to fulfill these mitzvot brings extra kedushah.”
I must be glowing from all the kedushah I have right now. Who knew my kitchen was so grungy? Not to mention what I found in the bottom drawer of EK Son #2’s dresser. I believe it was once an apple.
Every March I say the same thing: enough hoops, baseball needs to start already.
And, here we are again. ENOUGH HOOPS, BASEBALL NEEDS TO START ALREADY!
And it needs to go above 40 degrees.
Is it spring yet?
What is it about a funeral that brings out the Zabar’s in people? What halacha did I miss in all my years learning in Israel and at JTS that says that there must be more smoked fish at a shiva house than the total body weight of the deceased?
Mr. EK’s stepfather passed away somewhat suddenly* on Sunday, and the funeral was Tuesday in Manhattan (note to Riverside Memorial: it’s probably a good idea, and infinitely more professional, to haggle over $$$ sometime OTHER than 20 minutes before the funeral. Also, make sure to pick someone other than my mother-in-law to pull that crap with. Yes, that was the sound of canceling checks you heard.)
So. I forgot that a funeral in NY and the surrounding area is an odyssey. We are so spoiled here in EK land where the funeral home is a true class act, the funeral director is a mensch, a car picks you up, takes you to the service, then takes you to the cemetery which is 10 minutes away, and then deposits you back home. 2 hours, max and that’s if lots of people speak. In NY, the drive out to the cemetery on Long Island is at minimum an hour all by itself. And that’s after the funeral service which you had to navigate Manhattan traffic to get to, and from. Then the burial, the drive home, etc. We left my MIL’s apartment on the upper east side at 10am and didn’t get back until almost 3:30pm. It’s ridiculous.
A HUGE shout out to the Pizza Family who no longer blogs, but whom I am publicly acknowleging as some of the best friends anyone can have. They came into Manhattan for the funeral from New Jersey (no easy feat at that hour of the morning) just to be there for me and Mr. EK and our boys. They had never met my in laws, certainly didn’t know anyone besides us. This is true friendship and a true chesed you have done for us and we are so unbelievably blessed to have you in our lives and WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
*he was nearly 83 with severe dementia (is there any other kind, really?) and the speed with which this all happened is actually a blessing.
My baby is 5. FIVE. Didn’t I just give birth to her? How is she FIVE?????
We celebrated Purim today, and then had her “request dinner,” mac and cheese and an ice cream cake from a local shop that she loves. We have not gone down the Barbie slippery slope (yep, she’s 5 and we’ve gotten away with it so far), especially since THIS ATROCITY exists, but we did break down when we saw Gabriella who Disney saw fit to send to Stanford in HSM 3 (other characters went to Julliard, Berkley, UofA – nice role modling for Disney, actually). We let her watch these because they are pretty tame, and rather chaste for the current time. My parents let me see Grease in the theatre. I was 7. Good God! What were they thinking? HSM is just fine with me!
She will be having a Hello Kitty themed birthday party on Thursday for her cousins. She loves Hello Kitty (big surprise. I love Hello Kitty now – I just bought a MAC Hello Kitty lipstick called “Cute-ster” and a powder called “Pretty Baby.” Sad, I know.)
We have also decided that a good compromise for us is the Disney Princess line – not to busty, ball gowns not hooker outfits, and it is pure little girl fantasy, if your little girl is into that. And ours is. So. Into it. The more princesses, pink and fluff the better. And add some sparkly nail polish to that and she is blissfully happy. So Belle it was, along with some 99 cent glittery nail polish in 3 different sparkle colors in a pink fluffy toiletry bag I found. As my very own Princess Therapist tells me, I need to embrace my inner princess and put aside my own feelings of wanting to vomit every time I see one. I have been successful thus far. If we ever get the point were we are even considering Barbie I might have to renege on that.
The neighborhood kids all play Pokemon together on Shabbes and now she can join them.
All in all a very happy birthday for the EK family Her Highness the Hello Kitty Princess who wants to go to Stanford.
My favorite thing about having 5 kids in the house (my 3 + my niece and nephew) is that once 2 of them go home I think, “Gee, it’s pretty quiet here. I only have 3 kids in the house.”
It’s just one hilarious moment after another here. The girls are dressed to the hilt in the play princess dresses and veils and shoes and handbags, etc, and they come upstairs from the basement playroom and tell me they’re having a wedding.
I say, “Who’s the kallah [bride]?” My niece says, “We’re both the kallahs.”
I say, “Who’s the chossen [groom]?” The girls look at each other and shrug.
My niece says, “There isn’t a chossen. We’re just marrying each other.”
I choke down a laugh and say, “Who’s the rabbi?”
My nephew, 2 1/2 comes trailing along behind holding a Sports Illustrated magazine like an open book and says, “I da rabbi, I da rabbi.”
Overheard in the bath: my daughter “Mary” the daughter of very ideological Reform Jews, and her cousin “Sue” who is being raised Orthodox (the girls are the same age – just a few months apart):
Mary: Sue, guess what? God lives in my pupik.
Sue, very shocked: MARY! THAT’S NOT TZNIUS (modest)! Hashem does not live in your pupik!
Mary: What does that mean?
ME: Sue, what do you mean?
Sue: No one should see you naked!
ME: Sue, you’re right, we should all be modest and careful about who sees us naked. But God is special, and is there for us whatever we’re wearing. Remember Adam and Chava were naked.
Sue: Oh yeah.
Mary: And when you’re dead, you’re naked.
ME: Let’s not go there.
Second Conversation, same bath. Playing with the Noah’s Ark tub toys.
Sue: Give me Noah’s wife.
Mary: Who’s Noah’s wife?
Sue: She’s right there, give her to me.
Mary: Oh! There she is! Floating by the Taybah. What’s her name again?
Sue: I don’t know. Aunt EK, what’s Noah’s wife’s name?
ME: She does not have a name in the Torah. She’s just known as Noah’s wife.
Mary, indignant, with hands on hips: THAT’S NOT FAIR! WHY DOESN’T SHE HAVE A NAME?
Sue: Well that’s the way Hashem wanted it.
ME: Ladies, could we just get clean here?
Anyone who says young children don’t absorb these kinds of big ideas clearly has not spent time in the bath with these two. Yes folks, the daughters of an Orthodox Jew and Reform idealogues. Should be interesting to watch them grow up :-)