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Tznius Question

Why is it that it seems more tzanuah (modest) to wear thin tights / pantyhose under a skirt, than to wear jeans or sweat pants under the same skirt? I would be so much warmer wearing my jeans underneath and they don’t cling quite as much as panty hose does. Up here on the frozen tundra we need to stay warm.

I know, it’s probably the whole begged ish (men’s clothing) thing with the trousers, which personally I do not completely agree with especially as these days women’s trousers are made specifically for them which in my opinion totally negates the begged ish argument. I won’t wear pants by themselves out of the house due to tznius (modesty) issues, but why can I not wear them under my skirt to walk to the local store?

Introspection

Today I have yahrzeit for my dad. It’s been seventeen years since he departed this earth, in his mid-forties. It’s just always such a strange day for me. It’s hard not to wonder about what might have been. My folks were divorced since I was a little kid, we stayed in England, and my dad ended up living in Monsey, NY at the time of his passing. Small world. As I have written before, we didn’t have much of a relationship. I spent much of my teenage years angry with him, blaming him, not wanting to see him. I guess much of that is typical for a girl of that age dealing with those issues.

I spent his last five weeks with him. I’d like to feel that, even though he wasn’t conscious, we made our peace with each other. However I do feel cheated. I never got the chance to talk to him as an adult. He never got the chance to walk me down the aisle, or to hold any one of his 15 grandbabies. He never got to experience his kids as grown ups and to shepp nachas from us. He lost out, big time.

My dad was married twice and had 5 kids. I was from his first marriage and the only daughter. From everything I have read little girls are supposed to have a bond with their daddy, be daddy’s little girl. I never had that and I feel that I missed out. What would that have been like, I often wonder. I would listen to songs like Butterfly Kisses and cry because I hadn’t had that. It hurt. Perhaps my Dad couldn’t relate to the girlieness as he was so surrounded with boys. We didn’t really have girls in the family. I was the first on his side in several generations. Now BH we have plenty girl children amongst the grandchildren. (Not mine, interesting how that works). Or perhaps he just couldn’t relate to kids at all. I will never know.

In the summer we celebrated “Squiggy’s” barmitzvah. Squiggy was named for my Dad, and I wrote about the conflicting emotions leading up to that auspicious day. This child reminds me of my Dad – the way he looks (their baby pictures are almost identical), and some of his behaviour. There is so much in a name and this kid is such a Sabo!!

One wonders, though, if he had lived, what kind of relationship would we have now with each other. Would we have been able to move forward, leave the past in the dust, and forge some kind of adult relationship? Can that happen? It’s just weird how now I am moving to his last city of residence and he isn’t there. People still remember him, and I have been asked a time or two if I am his daughter. Even that is weird for me, because most of my life I felt like I was my mother’s daughter only. After all, she did raise me and did a damn fine job if you ask me.

So many disjointed thoughts are going through my head. I remember the funeral. We held it at a cargo bay at JFK as he was to be laid to rest in Israel. I remember the forklift truck picking up his coffin to transport it to the airplane and I tried to run after it to stop them. I was 19 and I was in such pain. I wanted them to bring my Dad back. It just seemed so undignified. I sat down on the floor amongst all the pallets and boxes and howled. The rabbi made me stand up so he could do kriah. He told me to accept the fact my dad was dead. Hard words, but necessary. At the other end of the plane journey my brothers met his coffin and escorted him to his final resting place. I will always regret not getting on the plane and travelling to Israel for the second funeral. I needed the closure of seeing his body being placed in the ground. I have since visited his grave site, where 4 years after losing his only child my dear Saba (grandfather) was buried next to him, and where only three years later we buried my dear Savta (grandmother) next to him. My father was sadly joined by his second wife two years ago, also taken tragically early in the prime of her life. So much loss, so much sadness. I take comfort in my children who bring so much joy to my life, in my husband who completes me in a way I never thought possible.

I must look to the future and not dwell in the past. But today I honour my father’s memory as without him I would not be here today.

Rest in Peace.

Men and Flowers

The KoD asked me to write this post, I guess to show him he is not alone with the way he feels.

I am not a high maintenance woman (although I would love to be), but I do appreciate the occasional gift of flowers and chocolates. I have a friend whose husband buys her flowers for every Shabbat. While that is lovely – it isn’t a surprise anymore, and she comes to expect it. I don’t want that. I would like to get flowers on special occasions and occasionally just because.

Late last year I sent the KoD flowers on the anniversary of when we met. I wanted to do something nice for him, and being so far away my options were limited. I was also a little peeved that he hadn’t bought me flowers in the longest time unless I had specifically asked. I hate coming right out and saying – can you buy me flowers next Tuesday because of such and such. It takes the romance right out of it. So I ordered a lovely flower arrangement, that came with 2 mugs nestled together saying YOU and ME on them. Not too feminine at all.

He called me up, thanked me very much, and then asked me to never send him flowers again. “It’s MY job” he says “to send YOU flowers”. Exactly! Eureka! I got the reaction I wanted. So why can’t you blimmin’ well send me flowers then when it’s appropriate? Point was made. Or so I thought. Sigh. (Hey KoD, Feb 15^th is a HUGE day for us….hint hint…..snicker)

Anyway, KoD says it is not becoming of a male to enjoy receiving flowers from his woman. He posits that most men would not enjoy or appreciate their wife giving them flowers. I say this is total hogwash. So I turn it over to you, dear reader, for your opinion. Play Nice.

Monday’s Rant

Super Bowl #44

I watched it. More for the commercials that anything else, truth be told! Thing is we are not into what the Americans call football* in this house, being more a hockey house than anything else. But the Super Bowl is a tradition, and we watch every year.

I was very much looking forward to watching with my boys, but the little stinkers defected and went over to their uncle’s house to watch with the MEN! No women allowed. Harumph. They said that my comments last year were just too girlie (I was worried they would not get the grass stains out of those tight white pants the players wore) and they need to watch it in a girl-free zone. (Or as my 7 year old put it – a free-girl zone).

That didn’t stop me from watching though. But I wasn’t really watching it alone as I had my laptop with me and watched with my twitter buddies all over the world. I still do not understand the game at all. Downs and lines across the field. They play for 5 seconds and then have a 5 minute break where we got to see the most horrendous commercials. (Male pantlessness was a theme in the commercials). I cracked open a beer or two hoping that after some alcohol was imbibed the game might suddenly make sense. Nope. Didn’t.

In the middle of the lame halftime show (The Who got so old) the KoD called. I missed most of the rest of the halftime show and the rest of the game, except for the last 10 minutes. Hey, no game is more important than speaking with my man. And yes, I turned the TV off in order to speak to him. Every so often he would update me with the score – I guess he checked online.

There were some really funny tweets, and some amazing celebratory ones as the Saints totally creamed the other team. I am so looking forward to watching the Winter Olympics with my tweeps, specifically the figure skating. Now, that is going to be a hoot. That sport, I understand the rules. I have watched it since I was knee high to a grasshopper. I can hold my own.

My favourite commercial was this Doritos one.

*Football to me is what the Americans call Soccer, or what my mother has eloquently termed “men kicking balls”.

Sheesh

Gosh darn it, didn’t realize being considerate was too much to ask for from a male person, according to this ad. Please let me know how you feel after watching it.

Victoria’s Secret

A girlfriend of mine was lucky enough to receive a $10 gift certificate for this lingerie chain. Not that $10 dollars would by her more than a tiny scrap of lace, but that’s neither here nor there. A friend of hers was scandalized that she even considered going in there to spend her GC. How can you, don’t you see the terrible way they portray women, as just eye candy, as if all they are to anyone is T and A? As a woman this friend was extremely offended.

The women that pose for VS are paid top dollar and are totally not exploited. They know exactly what they are doing, and have no problem being shown on billboards and magazines across the globe in a state of undress. How else are VS supposed to sell their product if their models couldn’t be photographed wearing the goods?

My opinion? This friend is extremely jealous of these gorgeous bodies (that are totally airbrushed by the way….duh) and knows that her own bodacious bod can never measure up. She hides that under the guise of being socially aware and “feminist” and probably has not even admitted it to herself.

I would agree with her if the company sold cars, and a male friend was only buying the car because of the hot half naked bimbo that was advertising it. Maybe that could be considered as exploiting women? But then again, the model got paid for it….so, I don’t really know.

What do you think?

Heinous or Harmless – Discipline

I have written before about keeping promises and carrying out threats. I was tested on this on Friday night. For the longest time I have had a deal with my youngest son. That if he goes to shul (synagogue) with his brothers on Friday night and misbehaves, then he has to go to bed after kiddush and hamotzi (the ritual Friday night blessings). We started this in order to keep him focused on being quiet in shul, and not bothering his older brothers while they daven (pray). It’s the older boys that tell me about his behaviour and I require consensus from all three. For months he was well behaved enough to stay up for the meal. I know it’s hard for him and for his brothers. They are alone in shul, and have to keep themselves and their little brother in line. Hopefully soon it will be a thing of the past, and the KoD will keep a watchful eye on them.

Friday night they came home after shul and told me that the little one did not behave, did not maintain decorum fit for shul. I was saddened and disappointed. I called him to me, and asked him how he thought he behaved. After much hesitation he admitted he had been badly behaved. I held him in my arms, and told him that after we eat challah he has to go to bed, as that was our deal. He was so upset and it tore my heartstrings to shreds. It would have been so easy for me to tell him to behave better, and ok, you can join us for the meal. But I wanted him to learn the lesson and also to know that I carry out my threats when necessary.

We were both crying when I bensched him. He cried all through Shalom Aleichem and Eishet Chayil. He was crying almost too hard to drink the grapejuice. He managed to chomp his way through a piece of challah, softened with his hot tears. Before he left the table he came to curl up on my lap. I asked him if he understood why he was being punished. He knew why and promised to behave better next time. I reminded him how much I love him, but that he needed to go to his room.

He took some books so he could read in bed. He came out of bed a couple of times for an extended drink of water and another hug or two. I missed him at the table. I did.

Shabbat morning he crawled into bed with me and told me he felt so sad that we were all having fun without him, and the he knows if he would have behaved appropriately that he would have joined us for dinner. He promised that he would be the best boy in shul from now on, because it felt “bad” to be punished. He totally understood his punishment, he was aware that there would be consequences for his bad behaviour, but it hadn’t deterred him. He told me that next time he wanted to act up in shul he would remember how sad he felt to hear us having a fun meal and not be part of it. So I guess he learned the lesson. But why do I feel awful about the whole thing?

Was disciplining him this way heinous or harmless?

Happy One Year Anniversary KoD!

I just realized today is our Hebrew Anniversary. I have an anniversary post planned for sometime in the next couple of weeks, but I just wanted to say to my KoD “Thank you for an awesome year. Being married to you is like unwrapping a new gift every day – full of wonderful surprises. You fill my heart with such joy and love. I cannot wait to spend forever with you in person! I love you!”