Wednesday, August 29, 2007

International Spy

My girls are bilingual. If you count the Spanish from Dora, the French from the girls at gan, the smattering of Yiddish words that come up, Hadas actually speaks 5 languages (she could be an international spy)! And, well of course Ayelet doesn't speak yet, but she is already exposed to several languages, so I am sure she will have no problems getting confused too.




One of my mother's favourite language stories took place in The Gap.

Hadas was two (the picture is from that trip), the saleswoman came over to us and started talking to Hadas.

Saleswoman: Hi sweetie!

Hadas smiles shyly.

Saleswoman: How old are you?

Hadas: Bat shnatayim.

Saleswoman: What sweetie, how old are you?

Hadas a little more firm: Bat shnatayim.

My mother intervenes and explains to the saleswoman.

Mum: She understands your question, but she is from Israel and is answering in Hebrew.

Hadas leaning out of her stroller and says in her best Israeli accent: I speak 'Eebrew.

There was laughter all around!

She has since learned to put on a phony Canadian accent when speaking English.

I often forget that Hadas is only four and still learning. Many things, including language and words are still new to her. She had two friends come over to play a while back (one French speaker and one Hebrew speaker - Israel is quite the -- melting pot? salad bowl?) and I set up a department store in her room. I created different sections for toys, books, food etc. Each girl received a purse with some money for their purchases which of course they paid for at the cashier's station. (I know you are impressed, you thought I would plunk them down in front of the TV.)


As I left the room, I said to Hadas, "Don't forget to give them change when they buy something!" I went to play with Ayelet and listened to the background noise of happy shoppers.** I went to check on the girls after a little while and saw Hadas tearing up little bits of paper and giving them to her friends.

Me: Hadas, what are you doing?

Hadas: Giving change, like you said.

Me: Do you know what change is?

Hadas: No.

Me: Oops, my bad. (I didn't actually say that, but I thought it)


** Side note on shopping (if my mother hasn't told you about it already). One's penchant for shopping is established at an early age, and you retain the like or dislike of this activity into your adulthood! Fascinating!




Look for future posts about one of my favourite aspects of bilingualism, Hadas's free translations from Hebrew to English and vice versa.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

G-d, death and free will


There have been lots of strange discussions around our house lately. These conversations are at the same time, serious, morbid and hilarious.

Hadas: Everybody has to die right?

Me: Yes, at the right time.

Hadas: G-d decides right?

Me: Yes, that's right.

Hadas: If I were G-d, I would decide.

Me: Um, right.

Hadas: If you and Abba die, and I am still a little girl, would I live in an orphanage?

Me: Uh, no, no, but G-d willing we will be around for a long time, til 120.

Hadas: Maybe until 1000!

Me: OK.

Hadas: Nobody lives until 1000.

Me: You're right.

Hadas: Why doesn't anybody live until 1000?

Me: It is just too old.

Hadas: You don't look old, maybe when you are 1000.

Is anybody else feeling totally lost? I should point out that the orphanage talk came about since I am telling her the story of Anne of Green Gables (see favourite things to your right). My mum is bringing the book, but Hadas wanted to hear what is it about so I have started telling her the story. She really seems to enjoy it, must be the Lucy in her.

We also had our very own Abbot and Costello, Who's on First moment while we walked home from our regular late evening exercises (OK, we went out for burgers).

Hadas: You know that Abba's Sabba, who died, was my Sabba Rabba.

Me: Yes, you're right. He was your Sabba Rabba.

Hadas: What was Abba's Sabba to you?

Me: He was like my Sabba too.

Hadas: Like your Sabba Rabba?

Me: No, like a Sabba, just like Abba.

Hadas: He was like your Abba?

Me: Oh look a cat. (The good old distract and defeat tactic!)

We had another existential conversation as we headed up north for a day of fun in the sun! (Don't worry we were actually in the shade at a giant gymboree type place.) For some reason Hadas started talking about Purim and mean old Haman (boo!! hiss!!)

Hadas: Why did G-d make bad people?

Me: He didn't make bad people, people can choose to be bad.

Hadas: What?

Me: (Crap, what am I getting myself into here) Hashem, let's people decide if they are going to be good or bad, it's called Free Will.

Hadas: Oh, so Haman chose to be bad.

Me: Right.

Hadas: Oh OK.

There is about five minutes of silence.

Hadas: I am going to choose to be good.

Me: That is an excellent choice!

Wow, I did really good in that conversation, she gets it! Now if only I could convince her that being good doesn't include scattering every available card and toy into every corner of the house.

Since there was no mention of Ayelet in this post, I am adding a short video of her here. It is a new feature and I know the quality of the video kind of sucks, but I wanted to see if it worked.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Until My Arms Ache

Note: Ruby's grandfather, Cantor Shmuel Frankel, Z"L, passed away last week, and I think that contributed to the somewhat melancholy mood of this post.


The week before Ayelet was born, Hadas fell down or bumped into something (I can't remember exactly what happened), and I picked her up and held her while she cried.

The week after Ayelet was born, Hadas fell down or bumped into something (yes, she is a klutz like me), and when I went to pick her up she was suddenly so heavy I could barely lift her.

I don't know how she suddenly got so big in one week! (I mean, I know it is the juxtaposition of holding a newborn and an almost four year old, but I am going for symbolism.) And it struck me how fast these kids grow and how little time I have to hold them in my arms.

Friday night, we stood around the Shabbat table singing Shalom Aleichem, Ruby held Ayelet and Hadas was standing off to the side, a little bit grumpy. I held out my arms to her and she ran over to me, I picked her up and held her in my arms and she put her head down on my shoulder. It is funny, sometimes she is so clingy and touchy and her hands so warm that I just want to shake her off, but that night, in that moment I just didn't want to let her go.

Ayelet also loves to be held and lifted into the air and when you bring back down, she lifts her hands up to be lifted again. It is a silly game, but the look of wonder on her face while she is suspended in the air makes me repeat the movement over and over again until I am exhausted.

I guess any new mother will tell you that raising kids is like the opening of a Charles Dickens' novel,

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way."

My hope is that I will be able to focus on the best of times, and to share the smiles, laughter and silliness that my girls, in their sheer innocence and guilelessness, offer up to me on a daily basis. It is not always possible to keep them shielded from the darkness and winter, but I am determined to hold my girls up and keep them in the light until my arms ache.

I hope you all have a great week, focusing on the small joys in life.


Love, Deb

P.S. Speaking of growing, Ayelet had her first bites of food this past week. Some sweet potato, semolina porridge and a little applesauce. She still won't take formula, but we are working on it.

P.P.S. Mazal Tov to Ilana, Mike and Ezra on the addition of Marcus Benjamin Sereny to their family.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Thursdays are for lists...

I have decided to use Thursday's blog to share with you the top ten list of things you can hear me say as our day winds down here. Also I am not at work today, so I have better things to do! Not that I spend any time at work writing this blog!

The count down begins...

10. Don't put your fingers in the baby's mouth! (too late)


9. Don't put that in your mouth! (too late)


8. Do you need a tissue? (too late)


7. Do you really think you should do that? (better late than never)


6. Go make a pee (thankfully not too late)


5. Why do you have to be so loud? (too little, too late)


4. Do you want to watch Hop? (I know it's late)


3. No, you can't have a treat (Why? it's late)


2. OK, now it's time for bed (it's really really late)


1. I love you, sweet dreams (It's never too late)

Just thought it would be nice to end the week on a sweet note. Since it is now the weekend here in Israel, you will just have to wait for new entries with bated breath.



Shabbat Shalom! Z


Have a restful weekend! I


Love, Deb Y


P.S. A very happy 1st birthday to dear Oliver Lazarus!!ej

P.P.S. A very happy birthday to Rupert Lazarus! e@

P.P.P.S. You can get a reminder about this blog by clicking on the subscribe link below.

What's yours is mine, what's mine is... well, mine too

*Note: I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to read my blog and write your comments! Yesterday we got to 9 comments! No pressure folks! I have actually read some blogs where the comments are more interesting than the blog. I have no problem being upstaged by you all, so feel free, I may even comment you back. BTW - clicking on the title of a blog entry will enable you to see all the comments.



Now onto today's blog.

As a brand new big sister, Hadas was ready to share everything with Ayelet. Even before JB was born, Hadas would tell Ruby and I of her grand plans for sharing.

"The baby can sleep in my bed with me. I will hold him so he doesn't fall out." (She was convinced we were having a boy - but was not disappointed with a sister.)

"If the baby cries in the middle of the night, you don't have to come, I will read him a book."

"The baby can play with all my toys!"

I thought, "Wow, I must be doing something right to have produced such a sweet child who is willing to share all her things with the new baby. This parenting thing is a snap!" Now, it's not that Hadas has gone back on her word per se, just the conditions of her commitment have been changed.

"You have to ask me if you want to put Ayelet on my bed. OK, now take her off."

"Her crying is bothering me to sleep."

"I can play with all of Ayelet's toys!" (and anything I find in Mummy's purse)

Hadas is always playing with Ayelet's toys (all unleaded I hope) - she claims she is teaching her how to use them. She finds immense pleasure in coming up with new innovations for everything - every teething ring, a bracelet or anklet (I know very hygienic). Every blanket (thanks Auntie Karen) becomes at first a veil (she is dying to be a bride), then a cloak, skirt, picnic table cloth, or a tent to place over the baby arch so that she and Ayelet can hide underneath.

She of course then gets bored, crawls out and leaves poor Ayelet in the dark (and then I have to put down my book and pull off the blanket - is a mother's work never done!). (I keep saying that I read, it's true sometimes - do Hebrew subtitles count?)

But when it comes to using her things to entertain Ayelet, like the NYC magic wand (thanks Auntie Aimee et al)... "You have to ask me!" I guess I must blame myself for this, I taught her not to just take things but to ask first. (Not that she follows this rule when it comes to digging through my purse and using my telephone in one her imaginary classroom scenes.)

Although she can also be very gracious with her belongings, sort of.

Her: Jelly can have my Dora DVD (no lead here either)

Me: That is very nice of you to share with her.

Her: No, she can have it, you can buy me a new one.

That girl is smart. She got this from Ruby (not the smarts, that's from me). She gets his hand-me-down electronics so he can acquire newer versions and she has cleverly applied this to the toy situation.

Of course I have to put her in her place, "I bought it. It's mine and I let you use it." That one will definitely come back to bite me in the bum.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

The princess and the pee

I hate bathrooms, especially public restrooms - there is nothing restful about them. They are full of germs. Anytime we are out and Hadas has to go to the bathroom, I inwardly convulse with dread. If you are in a public restroom and you hear a demented woman yelling at a four year old, "Don't touch! Don't touch anything! Don't play with that! There are germs! There are germs! Get up! Get up!" you will probably find me, and poor Hadas who just wanted to pee.

It must be said though, that Hadas, G-d bless her, has a bladder of steel. Sometimes she waits until the last possible second to go to the bathroom. She was at work with me yesterday, playing semi-quietly, pretending to be a ninja princess, when all of a sudden she calls out. "Eeema, I have to pee!" We run down the hall, out the door, around the corner, and into the bathroom. I of course make her wait until I have sufficiently covered any exposed surface with toilet paper while she hops from foot to foot mumbling "I gotta go!!!" Finally I help her sit - with my stern warning of not to touch anything- and she gets to pee. She looks at me with a smile and says, "Did you hear it? I told you I had to pee! I wasn't lying!"



Sometimes it takes a lot of convincing to get her to go to the bathroom. This morning for instance. I am sitting on the couch feeding Ayelet. Hadas is running back and forth from her room to the kitchen. It has been twelve hours since her last tinkle...

Me: Hadasi, go to the bathroom please.

Hadas: I don't have to go.

Me: Please Hadas, just try.

Hadas: I don't want to.

Me: Please! If nothing comes out that's fine too.

Hadas: OK.

She heads off to the bathroom.

Hadas: Nothing is coming out.

Me: Really? OK.

Hadas: No wait, here is comes.

I think I know why she fights it. I think it may have something to do with her fear of missing something. You know, all the surprise parties that take place the minute she heads off to the bathroom.

I hope I haven't grossed you all out with the pee talk. I promise to minimize the talk of liquid excretory product (I Babyloned "pee" just to see what it would say) in future blogs.

Monday, August 13, 2007

On second children and slavery...

Ayelet threw up last night. Twice. On me. And the couch.

I just handed her off to Ruby to change and I went to take a shower. (Yes I know! Ruby was home at a semi-decent hour!)

Last month her metapelet (nanny) called me to say that she had given her a bottle of formula and all seemed well, but an hour later.. bleh! My first reaction was not, "Oh my poor baby! I hope she isn't sick!". My first reaction was, "Oh man! I hope she didn't throw up all over the stroller!"

That is the sad fate of the second child, no frantic calls to the Doctor, no Mummy rushing home from work to stroke her brow. Just concern for the upholstery.

OK, that is not entirely true. I have called the Dr. and the Tipat Chalav nurse today to discuss it with them. Maybe she is sensitive to the formula - she has only really had it twice and threw up both times. Maybe I need to switch to lactose free stuff? Ya, I know, keep pumping.





I know what you are thinking? Where does the slavery come in? That is role of the elder child!
Poor overworked Lucy!

Me: Hadas, Ayelet just threw up. Could you get me a towel please?

Hadas: Um, a towel, ya, OK. (After a few failed attempts at finding a towel, she produces a purple square of terrycloth.)

Me: Thanks sweetie. Oh, could you hand me that diaper over there, please?

Hadas: (Sigh) A diaper, ya, OK. Here.

I didn't know four year olds could sigh! Boy, am I lucky that my (mostly) sweet-tempered first born hasn't heard of emancipation. But I think she has an inkling..




Ayelet was lying on her playmat, happily kicking and I was reading a book. Hadas was running around playing Bride. Ayelet begins to kvetch...

Me: Hadas could you please give Ayelet her motzetz?
Hadas: No, I'm playing. You give it to her.
Me: Please Hadas, be a good big sister and give Ayelet her motzetz!
Hadas (sighing again): Then why are you a Mummy?

I am appropriately chastised and get off the couch to give Ayelet her motzetzi.
By the way, Ayelet was fine this morning, her usual cheerful self.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Mummies Cry?

My sweet Lucy is hysterically funny. That may not be her intention, but I cannot help but laugh at some of the things she says.

Thursday evening, I made her some chicken nuggets and put them in a bowl for her to eat while she watches the latest "please let mummy have ten minutes to herself" DVD.

Me: Here's your food.

Her: Thanks, can I have a fork?

Me: (Oh crap, back to the kitchen again!) Sure, here's a fork.

She is now so focused on the singing and dancing on TV, she keeps missing the nuggets with the fork!

Me: You can use your hands you know.

Her: Then why did you bring me a fork?

Me: You asked for the fork!

Her: So why do you think I asked for it? To play with it?

She stabs the nugget with her fork and eats happily while swaying to the music. My four year old is going on 16!!

Friday evening, I am getting ready to light the Shabbat candles and Hadas is running around the living room swinging a piece of boondoggle with some large plastic buttons she has threaded onto it...

Me: Stop swinging that thing around, you are going to hit something or someone and then somebody will start crying!

Hadas: Who is going to cry?

Me: You, or Jelly, or me.

Hadas: Mummies cry?

Of course Mummies can cry! We're people too! If you prick us - with the pin that you found under the couch because Mummy forgot to put away the heart pin that came with the purple dress Bubie bought you - do we not bleed? If we hold the baby for half an hour while running around trying to put away the laundry only to find that her diaper has leaked and you have a ring of runny poop on your freshly laundered shirt, do we not smell?

But then I remembered, that to my four year old, I am not quite a person. I am the all seeing, all knowing, all cooking (OK, all microwaving) Mum. And, you know what? I hope that I get to be that Mum for a long time. I hope a long time passes before she realizes that I don't have the answers to everything, that my cooking skills are limited to what can be thrown together without having to measure ingredients, and that yes Mummies do cry.



And so it begins...

OK, I have taken the blogging plunge! I never thought I would do it! Expose my thoughts to the world - OK to family and friends, but still, these are going to be my most intimate thoughts!

Why am I doing this? Because I spend an awful lot of time reading other people's blogs and thinking, that's great, their kids are going to have such a laugh about this!
So I decided my kids should have equal opportunity to look back on this and laugh, or cry, or be utterly humilated by their crazy mum.

If the title of this blog is confusing and you are wondering who are Lucy and Jelly Bean, those are my girls. Lucy, aka Hadas, my brillant four year old, and Jelly Bean, aka Ayelet, my equally brillant almost 6 month old. And the names haven't been changed to protect the innocent, I actually do call them Lucy and Jelly Bean.
















So here's how this works, I will post from time to time and you will provide heartwarming comments and words of encouragement for me to continue recording these precious moments of craziness that are my life.