Pure Joy

Yesterday I had the amazing opportunity to go to Newark, NJ and watch my UK Wildcats beat UNC to win the Elite Eight and advance to the Final Four for the first time since I was a junior in high school, eagerly flooding the streets of Lexington with my friends. Last night I found myself surrounded by my brother, some other childhood friends, and thousands of other UK fans as we celebrated together, crying and screaming and overflowing with joy and pride and happiness. Here is a short clip of the final seconds of the game, followed by the crowd's reaction. As you might imagine, I'm pretty hoarse today!



Now it goes without saying that my boys are talented athletes who deserve nothing more than a NCAA Championship trophy, but I am proud to tell you that they owe a bit of their success to me! I have discovered that I own lucky shoes. I wore them during the SEC championship game by accident, but since then I have worn them (and carefully avoided taking them off) during each tournament game. Last Friday, the game started after my Shabbos bedtime, but that wasn't going to stop me! So yes, I slept in my shoes. Whatever. It worked, didn't it?! I think after we win the championship I will have them bronzed and framed...or maybe I should just keep them in a safe place until next season.

Here's a photo of my shoe in Newark yesterday, happily celebrating the Cats' victory!

The best part of the game...next to the moment of victory, of course...was hearing the UK band play "My Old Kentucky Home" before the trophy ceremony. I tried to sing along, but my hoarse voice made the old lady weep more than she already was (don't get the reference? read the lyrics).



Needless to say, I am anxiously anticipating Saturday night's game against UConn.

Oooooh.....C-A-T-S CATS! CATS! CATS!

A toe-rrific excuse

In the history of children, I'm sure there have been thousands of creative "I don't want to go to bed" stalling tactics.

"I need water."
"I need another story."
"I'm too hot."
"I'm too cold."

Etc. Etc. Etc.

Tonight, about 45 minutes after putting YS to bed, I was sitting on my bed happily watching a "Friends" rerun, when I thought I heard some stirring outside my door. At first I thought it might be YS getting a book from his bookshelf to look at in bed, but then I realized the sound I heard was unfamiliar. I opened my bedroom door and found him lying on the floor in his doorway. He seemed to be examining his feet in the light of the hallway.

Me: "YS, what are you doing?"
YS: (On the verge of tears) "I was just noticing that the nails on my feet are really long and a little bit dirty."

As I picked him up and carried him back to bed, I suggested to him that we cut his nails tomorrow afternoon. No dice. Tomorrow morning? Absolutely not. We were skating on the edge of a major tantrum, so I gave in. I found the nail clippers and cut his toenails...in the dark. He looked at me, happy and relieved, said thank you, and nestled into bed.

I'm thinking about nominating him for the most creative bedtime stalling tactic of all time.

Eyes Turned Toward the East

Scary things happening in Israel right now.

I'm thinking about "HaTikvah," whose lyrics are as relevant now as ever.

As long as the Jewish spirit is yearning deep in the heart,

With eyes turned toward the East, looking toward Zion,

Then our hope - the two-thousand-year-old hope - will not be lost:

To be a free people in our land,

The land of Zion and Jerusalem.

(Thank you http://www.stateofisrael.com/anthem/)

Why Purim Scared Me

This was our first Purim since YS was diagnosed with his peanut allergy. I grew up thinking that Purim was a fun, carefree, silly holiday with a lot of meaning and ritual. I now know that Purim is a scary holiday with hidden dangers around every corner. Prepping for the holiday this year not only involved ordering costumes, making mishloach manot, and arranging plans for the festive meal, but it also required me to have several role-playing sessions with my 3.5 year-old, during which time I pretended to hand him a treat and required him to practice bringing it to me and asking permission before eating it. I must say, I play a very convincing 3 year-old girl; raising my voice thirteen octaves really helps. In any case, even after practicing and lecturing, I still felt like I had to watch YS like a hawk the whole day. Our Purim this year was wonderful and fun, and it involved attending three different parties and receiving a dozen or so gift baskets from friends in our community. While I feel so fortunate to be the recipient of such lovely generosity, it meant I was sorting through food and standing guard over YS all day. Luckily, there were plenty of nut-free treats for him to enjoy, so he didn't protest when I told him he couldn't sample certain foods. The only close call of the day actually involved AM, who has not yet been diagnosed with an allergy (but his genealogy and eczema make me suspect he may eventually receive the same diagnosis as his big brother). He happily enjoyed a hazelnut cookie, after which I stared at him from about two inches away from his face for five minutes until I was convinced he wasn't going to react. Let me tell you: those were a LONG five minutes. B"H the day was free from medical emergencies and therefore a huge success. YS was remarkably well-behaved the whole day, played nicely with kids from several different families, graciously thanked his hosts and hostesses, and cheerfully wore his dinosaur costume all day. AM made me happy by wearing his scarecrow hat long enough for me to snap some cute photographs, and then he ate his way through the day at each house we visited. For a tiny little guy, he can really put it away.

Now that Purim is over, Pesach season has officially begun (at least in my head). I have already filled a few Pampers boxes with food I found on sale two weeks ago, and soon I will outline my to-do lists for the next four weeks. Pretty soon the "I will not let Pesach make me crazy. I will not let Pesach make me crazy. I will not let Pesach make me crazy." mantras will begin. Whatever it takes!

Finally, I am proud/shocked/amazed to announce that I made a home-cooked, well-balanced, relatively healthy and delicious dinner...on a TUESDAY!!!! The planets must be out of line. Brown rice with cheddar and veggies and baked tilapia. Mmmm...

Remaining Optimistic

It's been a hard week for the world. Horrific catastrophes in Japan with trickle-down effects to the rest of the world (the US stock market had an awful week; rebuilding Haiti will quickly fall off the radar; past tsunami victims are feeling PTSD; etc.). Devastating tragedy in Israel. Missing Americans in Libya. The list goes on. Figuring out the balance between: 1. being conscientious and caring, yet paralyzed by grief vs. 2. remaining numb and ignorant but going about my life as normal has kept my brain busy and my heart heavy. It's hard to get ready for Purim when the world is in so much pain.

YET...

Amidst all of this, I have managed to find some moments of happiness and optimism. These are the moments I hold onto as I watch the news with tears in my eyes.

A couple of days ago, my boys and I discovered the first signs of spring in our backyard. As I've mentioned before, I hate winter. I give thanks to Hashem that spring is on its way. It can't come a moment too soon. The grass and dry leaves still abound, but in the middle little blossoms are finding their way up through the ground.

My co-worker and gardening guru tells me that these little flowers are resilient and will continue to thrive, even if an occasional frost chills them in the night.

May this new growth be a sign that better days are coming. May we all be blessed with a Freilichen Purim, a happy spring, a peaceful world, and a safe tomorrow.

My Favorite Time of Year

GO BIG BLUE!

Baruch Dayan HaEmes

There are no words.

Tonight I think about the Fogel family. Udi, 36, his wife Ruth, 35, and their children Yoav, 11, Elad, 4 and Hadas, 3 months were all stabbed to death last night in their sleep.

They ate Shabbos dinner. They tucked their kids in bed. They went to sleep. They never woke up.

They used to live in Gush Katif. They had to move in the name of peace. What peace?