It’s Moving Day

The time has come for me to move to a brand spanking new website – catch me over at HaDassahSaboMilner.com – all of the content that’s here has been moved there, but I won’t close this site down just yet. But please – pop on over and see what’s new, just bear with us while we tweak and perfect it!!

Blogging for the Times Of Israel

I am now blogging for the Times of Israel. Click HERE to read my first post.

My Son Blogs!

My eldest son Aryeh, up until now known as Lenny on this blog, has started writing a blog of his own, documenting his aliyah process.

Please pop over there – here is his first post “THIS IS MY STORY” and leave him some comment-love.

Thanks

New Discovery: The Milken Archive

So, if you check out my Facebook feed you’ll know that I have a very eclectic taste in music. I do love mostly 80s songs, but will listen to just about anything at least once, and have a healthy respect for the Blues that the KoD listens to. I abhor the rap “music” that teens seems to listen to these days, but I am sure when I was growing up my mother hated the music we all listened to.

I also love chazzanut – the cantorial songs of the religious liturgy. Around Yom Kippur time I youtubed so many different Yom Kippur themed clips – Barbra Streisand singing Avinu Malkeinu, Al Jolson singing Kol Nidrei.

I recently came across the Milken Archive. I had not known that there was an organization out there that was committed to saving and archiving American Jewish recordings that within generations would possibly be lost. I personally love listening to recordings of the Cantors from way back when – their voices were something special to behold – David Roitman, David Kusevitsky to name a couple, but the Archives also have recordings of singers, composers and groups too.

The Milken Archive (More about the founder here) also has tremendous collections from Yiddish Theatre (One of my favourite Yiddish plays is Mirele Efros, closely followed by an awesome adaptation of Fiddler on the Roof that I saw in Montreal at the Dora Wasserman Theatre eons ago), Klezmer, Children’s Songs, the list goes on. I have been loving listening to the clips that they have online – what they call a “virtual museum”.

From the website:

Though the Archive’s musical collection is voluminous, of equal importance are its collections of oral histories, interviews, photographs, and historical memorabilia, all of which lend historical depth and cultural context. Oral histories and interviews have been completed with senior cantors, veterans of the Yiddish theater, composers, conductors and others, thus preserving the knowledge, performance traditions, and stories of the individuals who brought, and continue to bring, this music to life. This unprecedented wealth of memories and first-person accounts will be a unique resource for students, scholars, documentary filmmakers, cultural historians, and anyone interested in American Jewish history.

Since I came to the US two years ago I have been reading up and learning my American history and my American Jewish history. Discovering this archive has added a new dimension to this study. I am thirsty for more.

If American Jewish history is your thing, check out the Archive. Follow them on Facebook and Twitter to keep track of the latest happenings.

I’ve Been Tagged!

Aliza Worthington whom I worship a ton (see what I did there?) tagged me in her post: It Goes to 11. So now, because I have been tagged I have to post rules and answer Aliza’s questions and pick some new victims erm I mean bloggers to answer my 11 questions.

1. What talent do you wish you had?

I wish I could do many things, but I really wish I could draw and sing because then my kids would have the most awesome projects for school AND I wouldn’t make anyone cringe with my shower singing.

2. Who’s your favorite Muppet, and why?

Oscar, because he’s a grouch. I relate.

3. What kind of restaurant would you open, and why?

I always wanted to open a bakery / coffee shop. Because I love to bake and make tummies happy. And coffee? Well, I do like coffee. A little.

4. What’s the first movie that you remember giving you nightmares?

Doctor Who. When we were tiny little kidlets we used to beg my Mum to let us watch Dr Who on a Saturday night, but without fail we would hide behind the sofa every time it got scary. (not a movie, but hey….)

5. What sporting event have you never been to, that you dream of attending?

The Superbowl. I kid I kid. Wimbledon. Would so love to be there at the men’s final.

6. What class did you take in high school or college that you wish you could take again now?

Sewing. I wish I paid more attention so that I could make my own clothes.

7. Country Living or Architectural Digest?

Country Living.

8. What book do you hope your kids never read?

50 Shades of Grey – only because it is written abysmally, so I’ve been told.

9. Ringo Starr. Good drummer or not?

Who? 😉

10. Theme parks – thumbs up or thumbs down?

Thumbs way up. I love roller coasters although according to my boys I scream like a girl!

11. Are any of you still my friend?

I love you, you know that! You are one of my favorite wenches! xoxox

So now, if I have tagged you (go look on FB when I finally get this post up) what you need to do is to answer my eleven questions (down below) on your blog and then tag eleven people to answer 11 questions that you have made up. Understood? Or if you haven’t been tagged, you can answer in the comments, or on your blog if you blog.

1. What’s your favourite type of music?

2. What’s your earliest memory?

3. If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?

4. What one decision in your life do you regret and why?

5. Coffee or Tea?

6. Ideal Vacation?

7. Favourite TV channel and show.

8. What word do you use the most because you love the way it sounds?

9. What would be the title of your autobiography?

10. What language do you wish you spoke?

11. Where do you see yourself ten years from now?

Today Is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

I have written previously [Miscarriage (Tough Read)] about the miscarriages that I suffered between the births of my 3rd and 4th sons. I don’t often think about the two babies that I lost, but sometimes I wonder what life would have been like had those two babies lived. What would it have been like having at least one daughter, perhaps.

It wasn’t meant to be, and I am accepting of that. It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, but it’s an ache rather than a pain.

I am thankful for my children, my four sons who bring so much life and energy to  our lives.

Letting Go

When you first hold your baby there’s a multitude of feelings that flow through you – exhaustion, love, awe, a tremendous sense of responsibility, even fear.

What no one can prepare you for is when you have to start letting go, loosening the apron strings, so your kids can grow up and become adults, responsible for their own lives. It seems to happen in an instant, overnight.

It’s not as if they turn 18 and suddenly BAM! that’s it, bye bye parents. It’s a gradual letting go.

But it’s hard. You need to give the kids space to learn, opportunities to grow from, the ability to make mistakes that they can learn from. Ima cannot come rushing in to save the day every single time. You learn to bite your tongue, to accept decisions that you might not fully agree with. But how can we trust our children if we don’t give them the opportunity to be trusted?

This balancing act seems to become harder the older the children get. I am not a dictatorial mother, but I am a mom who likes things done a certain way and expects her children to behave appropriately. However, I have to have faith in the job I have done in raising the kids. They are not an extension of me, they are themselves, people in their own right. Children deserve a chance to figure out WHO they are. As parents we need to be there to support them, to love them unconditionally, to be a voice of reason when necessary. As the kids get older, they need you in different ways.

It’s so rewarding watching them grow up and mature, yet bittersweet in a way – they will soon leave home, headed to live their own lives. It’s what we want for them but it’s so hard to let go.

Playing Favourites

I love all my kids. To distraction. I am frequently asked which of them is my favourite. I always answer that I have four favourites. They each have their own unique character, strengths and weaknesses.

I suspect that if I sat down and wrote out pros & cons (no, that doesn’t sound right) – strengths and weaknesses of each child, there may be one or two front runners. But that doesn’t factor in emotional connection etc.

Growing up I was aware that I wasn’t my Gramma’s favourite. My mum never ever made us feel like she preferred one of us over the other, but my Gramma was a different story. She was a woman of strong character and opinions. (Gee, I wonder who takes after her?!). I was never resentful – that was just the way it was. The sibling in question, who was the favourite, well, he always denied it.

Maybe I didn’t feel resentful because my other grandparents spoiled me rotten, being the only granddaughter amongst lots of boy children. Who knows?

Were you the favourite growing up? Were you aware there was a favourite? Do you have a favourite child? Is it ok to have a favourite, even if your kids will never know?

Yom Kippur Memory

I bless my kids every Friday night before kiddush. It moves me every single time. Sometimes to the point of tears. It’s my reconnection with the boys after busy weeks of to-ing and fro-ing. No matter who is mad at who, who let who down, who’s grounded or had their phone taken away – Friday night bentsching is sacrosanct in our home.

There is a tradition that Erev Yom Kippur we bless our children too. For some, this is the only time of year they bless their children. For me, on this day, thanks to Rabbi Artscroll, I bless them with the long version of the blessing, found in the Yom Kippur machzor.

When I was 16 my father was very sick here in Monsey. He was at the Good Samaritan hospital for treatment and we had been told he was close to death. We flew in from the UK to be with him. It was this time of year. My parents had been divorced for a long time by then and I had little to no relationship with him.

We went to see him Erev Yom Kippur, and he wanted to bentsch us. My father, in my memory, had NEVER bentsched us, never taken the time to reconnect, and until that moment I had never felt that I missed out.

My brothers went forward one by one, and my father placed his hands on their heads and intoned from memory :

Image from aish.com

Then it was my turn. My father had no idea how to bless a daughter. We scrambled around for a siddur so that he could find the right words. But the damage had been done. I didn’t hear the blessing, I didn’t feel it – truth be told, I didn’t want it. My father, who had not been present for most of my life, just proved to me, in that moment (in my mind) how little he thought of me.

I was 16 and I was hurt. My father died 3 years later, and at the ripe old age of 19 I had just got to the point of wanting to know him and to know who he was. Maybe he felt just as bad at that moment – maybe he just didn’t know how to tell me. I will never know.

I remember my father every time I bensch my kids. At this point, I remember him without the anger and resentment I used to feel, but still with sadness at what might have been.

Just a reminder!

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