Monday, October 7, 2013

Reconciliation

First of all, it has to be said - BDE Rabbi Ovadia Yosef. (For my non-Israeli readers: Rabbi Ovadia Yosef was a very, very well-known rabbi who was instrumental in rebuilding the Sephardi - that's Middle Eastern Jewish - religious community after the community's mass resettlement in Israel. He also was a former Chief Rabbi and started the Shas party. And he died this morning.)

I'll leave the eloquent eulogies to people wiser than myself. All I'll say is: Rabbi Yosef had a blunt, tongue-in-cheek style of speaking that meant he was mostly in the international media for saying bizarre-sounding things - but he did truly impressive work in setting up an entire school system, political party and socio-religious movement, he meant a lot to a lot of people (well over half a million people were at his funeral tonight, and that's in a country of under 8 million), and from everything I've heard, in his work here in Israel he was an extraordinarily kind person. Everyone who knew him in daily life, religious or not, Jewish or not, seems to have good things to say.

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And now for the story I'd planned for today - the story of my reconciliation with a young child after a fight over shoes.

It's not rare for the issue of shoes to lead to yelling in this house, due to the toxic combination we have here of 1. a rather large number of feet that need shoes each morning 2. a rather messy house (uhh... it's not usually like this! you just caught us at a bad time, is all) and 3. certain of our children who believe that shoes are a symbol of parental tyranny, and who choose to express their inherent right to self-definition by ignoring any request involving footwear.

So today, every child was ready with their shoes, except one (as usual, no points for guessing who). And after the third time that child wandered off to play ponies instead of tracking down her sandals (which were JUST HERE holy crap, how do they lose them so quickly???), I lost it.

What actually happened:

What happened as (apparently) perceived by some involved parties:


So obviously that was upsetting. And lead to traumatized crying rather than shoes being on feet (but it did immobilize the child long enough for me to put her shoes on for her).

As we left the house, I apologized for yelling, and got the following response:




This kid is too clever for her own good. Or maybe just too clever for my good.

Just to be completely clear, that's a request for a personal cell phone as a present for a fourth birthday.

And no, it won't happen, but she probably will get her number-two choice - the much more age-appropriate doll stroller (which will be, like, the twentieth we've bought. Doll strollers, doll clothes and crayons should not really be considered "toys" of the normal variety that you purchase and subsequently own for a substantial period of time - they're more like crackers or ice cream or something. Buy them, enjoy them, don't expect them to be here in two weeks.)

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Also today:

8 pm: Bake special "healthy cookies" for Viggy, with oatmeal, squishy bananas, cocoa powder and just a pinch of sugar.

9 pm: Find self frantically searching for recipes for unhealthy chocolate cookies. Sometimes "healthy" foods are just a tease. Stupid non-fattening cookies. 

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