Monday, November 25, 2013

Torah for young children



(The joke, for non-Hebrew-speakers: this is a "Torah for young children" page created by one of my actual, real-life young children. I'm not sure what most of it says, but at the bottom there's what seems to be a list of essential commandments, which reads more or less as follows (English misspellings a translation of Hebrew misspellings):

Keep the Sabbath
Eat politely and nicely
Don't kill god forbad
Being one friend and coperat

I have to say, that does cover a lot (most?) of the important parts)

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Reading a book with a four-year-old

"Peanut Butter and Jelly for Shabbos"

"Why is it called 'Peanut Butter and Jelly for Shabbos'?"

"That's just the name of the book, honey."

"But why is it called that?"

"Let's read and find out!"

"Peanut Butter and Jelly for Shabbos

Yossi opened his eyes-"

"Who's Yossi?"

"The boy in the picture is Yossi."

"Why is he Yossi?"

"Because that's a picture of Yossi."

"But why is he called Yossi?"

"Because his Mommy and Daddy decided to call him Yossi."

"What, when he was a baby?"

"Yes, when he was a baby.

"Yossi opened his eyes one cold winter day
Then said 'Modeh Ani' and washed right away."

"Why did they call him Yossi when he was a baby?"

"Everyone gets a name when they're a baby. Mommy and Daddy decided on a name for you when you were a little baby, too."

"Also Moriya and Netanel and Arel and Itai? Their Mommy and Daddy picked a name?"

"Yes, also them.

"'This Friday is special - "

"But what about Netanel T?"

"Yes, also Netanel T. His parents picked his name when he was a baby.

"'This Friday is special,' thought Yossi, 'because... "

"What are 'parents'?"

"The Mommy and Daddy are both called parents."

"Oh"

"'There's a reason...' But he just forgot what it was!"

*page turn*

"Who's that? Is that Yossi?"

"No, that's Laibel."

"Why is that Laibel?"

"Look, this one is Yossi."

"Why is that one Yossi?"

"See, he has the same kippah here and here."

"But Laibel also has the same colors on his kippah."

"Right, but in a different order."

"Oh."

"Then father walked in and called, 'Hey sleepyheads!
It's time to get up; jump out of your beds."

"Who's that?"

"That's the grandfather."

"Why is he the grandfather?"

"Because he's the father of the father. Or the mother."

"But why is he the father of the father or the mother?"

"Because that's what grandfather means.

"Your mother's been gone for three days -"

"Why was she gone for three days?"

"Let's read and find out.

-and we've missed her;
Today she comes home with your new baby sister!"

"Why is she bringing the baby home?"

"Because the baby is part of the family now."

"But why is she coming home?"

"Because that's what happens when there's a new baby. The baby and Mommy are in the hospital for a couple of days, and then they come home."

"So then why didn't you bring me home from the hospital when I was a baby?"

"I did, honey."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did. You were born, and then a couple days later we went home."

*looks skeptical*

"Look, if I didn't bring you home, then why aren't you still at the hospital?

"I'll pick up - "

"When was I a little baby?"

"Well, you're four, so four years ago."

"Why four years ago?"

"Because that's how time works."

"But when was I zero years old?"

"You were zero when you were first born. Then after one year you were one, and after two years you were two, and now after four years you're four.

"I'll pick up your grandmother-"

"Who's that?"

"That's the Daddy."

"Why is he the Daddy?"

"Because he is."

"Did he give Yossi his name?"

*****

I'll spare you the remaining 100+ pages of dialogue.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Crazy

I had an interesting conversation today with one of my children, who shall remain anonymous to all but those who have met my children and/or have read this blog in the past.

(To really get into the story experience, picture the following: as we talk, said child is on her back on the bed busily kicking my hands, which are held out to catch her feet.)

Me: (Child), N and M say you were hitting them. (to readers: M is a friend)

Child: Yes, I was doing that.

Me: You know that hitting isn't allowed!

Child: But Mommy! I'm insane!

Me: Uh-oh. Why did you go insane?

Child: Because it wasn't fun being not insane.

***

We eventually reached a compromise: she could stay insane, but would have to be insane in a way that did not involve hitting. We even did some brain-storming, and settled on either of the following as an acceptable form of insanity: believing herself to be a giant, man-eating crocodile, or believing herself to be a monster. (But only a good monster. Child: "A good monster is a monster that it hits evil and evil goes home.")

***

Bits of conversation that I overheard on Friday:

A: Stop it! I told you, I'm not a train!!
N: Yes you are!!!


Viggy: You want to call it a chicken? Fine. It's a chicken. Now GET OUT OF THE CHICKEN!!

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Dinnertime

A tour around the family dinner table:

The oldest two children enjoy their food.


Like all babies, S knows that food is only truly delicious when someone else is trying to put it into their own mouth.


And here's D, who is -



Uh-oh. D, remember what we said about -


"What have I told you about jumping on Mommy's head during dinner???"

"But you're cute!"

"You need to get off right now."

"But you're so cuuuuuuuuute."