life on the rollercoaster...

A few recent pics

2011-01-10T11:41:00.001-04:00

In no particular order, and mostly because I have to show off my adorable children.

Watching Abba make a fire 12/10


Riding the Abba rollercoaster

Ilan the Knight Lowell


Brothers on Yom Katom

Abba made us funny hair!

Gavriel on Bear Mountain 10/10

Nadav, where is your tummy?

Gavriel, Chanuka 2010

Nadav, Chanuka 2010

These are the people in your neighborhood... Chanuka 2010 Nadav L, Ilan R.

Astronaut Gavriel is 7!

First Day of School 2010

First day of nursery school 2010

First Day of School 2010

Ilan Hanging with Abba

Nadav being a seagull at Coney Island August 2010

Ilan being a seagull at Coney Island, August 2010

the Boys on Bear Mountain, October 2010

flying leaves! Fall 2010

Trains with cousin Leon, thanksgiving 2010

Brothers. Coney Island, August 2010.

Hanging by a thread...

2011-01-10T10:47:00.002-04:00

I am a scrapbooker. Not by professional, of course. But it's a hobby. In fact, it's therapy. While my children enjoy seeing their faces around the house, the journaling I put on the pages is for me. Some of it is hidden, and some is in plain view. But it is my catharsis. I thumb through the pictures of their infancy, and decide how to best show their personalities while also doing justice to my need to process what it was like to mother them at that stage of their lives. That child for who they were as I saw them then.

Six months ago I scrapped this beautiful picture of my vibrant Ilan:

The title is Hanging By A Thread.
The text reads: Who makes up these expressions anyways? Don't they know what they really mean? Keeping your head above water is just one breath away from going under. And hanging by a thread is only one fragile break from falling in to the abyss.
Or maybe that's exactly what it means.
I'm fighting medication changes. Sedation. Migraines. Dry mouth. Back pain. Shoulder pain. Weight gain. These days it feels like I'm fighting everything. And hanging on by a mere thread.
So it's a good thing I use heavy-duty string.
Today, this picture is my thread. Those beautiful eyes looking out at me, the smile, that impish grin, frozen in place, planning his next move, next adventure.
For today that will have to be enough.

It has been a hard year for me. What I wrote 6 months ago still stands. Pain. Too much pain. Too much medicine rigamarole, on top of real life as a mom of three with a husband in grad school. But it hasn't all been bad. We've had lots and lots of happy days too. Playing together, cooking together, learning together. Personal accomplishments. Awards and professional recognition. Many fewer diapers, many more books read, a gangly tall child with a karate belt and a loose tooth, and two parents who gave shiurim to the kehila this summer. And cinnamon rolls. Lots of those too.

I can't get back the last 6 months of lost blogging. Funny things the kids have said that I've forgotten. Wise things I've thought in the night that have gone the way of lost dreams and memories. But I still have those eyes grinning at me every day, as well as two other sets, and for today that will have to be enough.

If you're still here checking once in a while, thank you, for believing that one day I'd be back.

My Adventure

2010-05-16T09:36:00.001-04:00

I'm in the midst of my journey home, and waiting to board my first flight, and trying to process this trip. It was a whirlwind. Very little sleep for several days, followed by a day of rest at the end.

Warning- this will be a drawn out post with much detail. I don't want to forget anything, and also people have asked me for details of the trip, so here they are! Skip to the pictures if you just want to see the good stuff,

I will follow up this post with another once I get home and can upload my pictures.

My journey started out at 4am when I awoke and started the day by kissing my boys goodbye. Always a precarious venture in the middle of the night, but I deemed it worth the chance. Luckily no one woke and I tiptoed out the door to my waiting cab.

The boys all dressed up for Yom Yerushalayim. Ari sent me this pic in the morning of the twins singing the abc to G while he brushed.

I flew to Miami and then connected to Orlando. I was very fortunate and flew in first class. Some weird thing on the American miles system that made both economy and first the same amount of points. This was really lucky, because it's hard for my body to fly alone and carry all my belongings, not to mention the old, thin seats I spotted in economy. I had the bulkhead too, and so I could lift up my feet the entire time, and arrived in pretty good shape physically. I slept most of the way since I had only gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before.

I waited for my friend, D, to land and we headed out to Disneyworld. I haven't been there since 2nd grade, and it certainly was an experience. Again, we were very lucky, and there were virtually no lines! We couldn't believe our luck, and joked about the power of the Jewish-Episcopalian force. We rode and walked a lot, and then headed over to the Epcot world pavillion for sunset. Finally we headed back to our rental car and drove to Cocoa Beach, close to Cape Canaveral and the motel where all the NASA people stay. It was fun playing spot the astronaut. NASA guys are easy to spot- khakis, polo shirts, straight backs, and hightop military haircuts.

We couldn't resist and ran out to the beach, only a few feet away. It was pitch black and the stars were gorgeous. I miss stars. I was tempted to grab a scientist and have them show me all the contellations, as I only recognize a few of them, but since it was midnight I did my best to control myself. We quickly took off our shoes, and rolled up our pants. The sand was smooth- no rocks or big shells, and the water was warm and the surf gentle. Such a difference from our Atlantic up the coast.

Finally we went back and got our bags from the car and settled in to our room and went to sleep.

The next day was one of those unexpected pleasures that take you by surprise for the sheer joy of it. I awoke to find that we had been joined in the night by a friend of my friend, K. I knew she was coming, but it was still funny to discover. D had left early for a day of press activities at Cape Canaveral and we were going to join her later in the morning.

K and I clicked immediately, and had a great time together. It was a great surprise and I quickly had a new friend. We suspect that D knew this would happen, and texted her asking if she knew we were essentially the same person. She laughed and said, yep!

We headed over to Cape Canaveral where reality of what was going to happen set in. There was an air of history in the making combined with sadness and nostalgia. K is a physicist who works on the Mars rover missions, and is the daughter of an astronaut who was on two shuttle missions.

We spent most of the day at Kennedy Space center, seeing the exhibits, rides, taking pictures, and listening. Everyone who worked there had concerns about shutting down the shuttle program before a viable substitute is in place. It's a dangerous place to be so dependant on the Russians, was the general consensus.

Toward the end of the day we were able to go to a Launch Status talk, and could see the launch pad in real time, and were briefed on what was happening with the fuel tanks, the orbiter, and crew 24 hours before the launch. It was really exciting to see how much was going on in preparation!

That night we got to hear D's stories about her day with the press junket, and her talks with the NASA brass about the future of the space program, as well as detailed information about the upcoming Atlantis mission.

I also spent a half hour trying to practice with Gavriel for his spelling test the next day, much to the amusement of K, who thought it was hilarious to listen to.

Friday dawned clear, with only a few clouds, and it looked like the weather would cooperate with the launch. The big question was whether anything else would cause a scrub. The window of opportunity was very small, about ten minutes. And the following day had a similarly small window. So we kept making jokes about what we would do if there was a scrub- mini golf, margaritas, etc. but what was unsaid was how big our disappointment would be if the shuttle didn't take off.

D left for the press pool. K left for the space center since she was able to get closer due to her father having some connections. She felt bad leaving me, but I did my best to reassure her that she earned any perks his status could get her. Having watched her father sit on top of a massive rocket not once but twice earned her the world in my opinion!

I had the choice of trying to get closer to the Cape or head to the beach to watch. By all accounts getting anywhere closer would be insane traffic wise, and the beach was definitely within viewing and hearing range, so I decided to stay at Cocoa Beach. I got myself a beach chair and an umbrella, slapped on a lot of sunscreen, grabbed my kindle and went to relax.

It was awesome. I had a clear view of the water, clear view out towards Kennedy, a cool breeze blowing on me, and a shady spot to watch the waves. It was pretty quiet, and I just relaxed. It was the best possible way to spend my morning.

Towards the launch time, more and more people crowded on the beach. The umbrellas emptied out as everyone walked down closer to the water for an unobstructed view. I followed the progress via twitter and saw they were dealing with a last minute loose ball bearing, and had a few tense minutes until they cleared it. Someone near me had a radio, and we counted down. Everyone stopped- on the beach and the water. Time stood still, only the sound of the waves touching us. Finally we saw a fireball low on the horizon, raising quickly into the sky. Everyone erupted into cheers and applause. White tails followed her, and we could see when the boosters burnt out and the flame changed to just the main fuel. She continued up into the clouds, and then, many seconds later, we heard the roar. The speed of sound had caught up with the speed of light.

The shuttle finally disappeared from our view, and the man with the radio told us she was at 19 miles up at that point. She was so bright, we had been able to see her 19 miles away! We could see the ships waiting to go fish out the boosters which was dropped into the ocean before the orbiter enters orbit, but didn't see the white boosters themselves.

A few minutes later NASA twitter announced Atlantis had acheived orbit. It took many more minutes before the white smoke trail dissipated in the clear blue sky.

And that was that. We had witnessed Atlantis' 32nd shuttle flight, and the 132 flight of a US space shuttle into low orbit, on due course to rendevous with the international space station.

The crowd dispersed, everyoen talking excitedly. About an hour later, I made my way over to the outside bar/cafe area, and watched while the NASA families slowly trickled in, wearing sts-132 shirts, and glowing with a job well done. They deserved all the praise and had pulled off a flawless pre-launch and launch. It was time for a break, and they would party for hours to come, hosted by the commander's wife, a tradition following every launch. I reluctantly took my leave and drove with K to orlando, to a nicer hotel for shabbat, wondering all the while if these amazing, proud americans would find a place in the new shuttle-less NASA.

We left the coast and headed for orlando, moving to a nicer hotel courtesy of frequent flier miles. My luck continued and we were upgraded to a deluxe suite, which was beautiful.

Then I discovered the sunburn, caused by accidentally rubbing off my sunscreen when I reapplied it after swimming in the ocean. Not a great way to finish out the vacation, but worth every minute on that beach.

All in all, it was a wonderful trip. I learned many things, including the fact that the people down at Kennedy are very scared of what is coming in the future. I don't know what the policymakers will decide if our ultimate path in space travel, but if the caliber and dedication of the people I met down there is any indication, the future of NASA is in very good hands.

As for my boys, they were in even better hands, of my husband and our dear friend Dovid. I am so thankful to them for allowing my free spirit to soar, even though it left them grounded behind.

Taking off for home. Will add in pictures and video when I'm home.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

What is your real job?

2010-05-06T11:13:00.001-04:00

Once in a while, Gavriel asks me what my job is. And I flinch every single time. Internally of course.

I tell him I learned how to be a social worker, explaining in his terms what that is, and then explain that right now I'm not doing that, and my job is to take care of him and his brothers and his abba, and my body. Sometimes he accepts it, and sometimes he says, "no ima, but what is your real job?"

It's hard not to feel judged when your six year old asks something as value laden as that, but I remind myself he's not judging me, just trying to sort things out in his head, and it affects me because of how sensitive I feel about the issue.

I love stay at home mothers. I think it's a phenomenal job, and admire homeschoolers even more, for the patience and selflessness those mothers must have. I just never planned on being one. I always envisioned myself as the mother with perfect balance. Work for a half day, in an all important job affecting real people and changing lives, and then home for the rest of the day with my children, while at the same time being the perfect homemaker my mother was.

What unrealistic expectations.

There is no such thing, except maybe on tv. I don't know one mother who doesn't sacrifice herself in at least one arena be it professional, emotional, physical, spiritual, in order to balance the demands of life in 2010. It's not enough that we stay home, it's not enough that we work, it's not enough that we juggle a household, practice attachment parenting, manage an active household, provide nutrional meals, make sure to get physical activity, fight a bad economy. It's never ever enough. And I've found few mothers with small children who don't walk around with an air of breathlessness. How can we possibly catch our breath, with so many expectations put on ourselves?

Although blessed in some of these, in some ways I have it even worse, because I've been forced to abandon many of those ideals in order to address my physical problems. So I try to live in a state of feeling it just has to be good enough for now. Not quite enough that I'm proud of what I've become, but enough so that I don't lay awake at night thinking of all I'm not doing- for my children, my husband, my people, and myself. My circle of influence has become much smaller than what I once envisioned for myself. I was raised to believe I could do anything, be anything. I had the brains, the talent, the education. The sky was the limit, as far as I was concerned. So much so that each time I made a professional choice, I felt a pang for those opportunities left behind despite it being my choice. The ones I would never do, despite the potential.

It's painful, I think, for my mother, to see the person I've become. Oh, I know she thinks I'm a good mother, at least I hope she does. But I'm not a religious giant, not a therapist, not a doctor, or a scientist. Instead I spend my days running to doctors or therapies, endless carpools and groceries, just like she did for so many years.

Sometimes I hear of greatness, and think, I could have done that. Then I go home, and I read to my children. Make yet another scrambled egg, another load of laundry. And I think- this is okay. This is where I'm supposedly to be today. Today this is my sphere of influence, and this is what I will do best today. I will raise my three little boys into men. And while sometimes I think about lost opportunities, this is one I never envisioned growing up. Just how important my presence is right now.

There will be time, later on. I will teach, or listen, maybe deliver babies, and maybe one day even fly into space as I once dreamed. I will make my mark, however I can. But the mark I can make on these little men right now is so much greater than any I could achieve elsewhere. Being human instead of superwoman is rather humbling.

Somewhere inside, I keep the hidden dreams tucked safely away. Not destroyed, just in stasis for now. I know I won't get to all of them. But that's okay. If I manage to focus my passion into my mothering, that will help keep my spark alive for the day that I look to expand my sphere outwards. And I do other small things in the meantime, to keep those dreams alive. Counsel friends, read about birthing, and always, always, follow the space program. I don't talk about it much, but that dream is always there.

When I was a little girl I wanted to be an astronaut. I went to space camp twice, I pretended to do spacewalks, piloted the shuttle on missions. Rode the simulators and loved the adventure. I still hope that one day in my lifetime civilians will be able to ride in space without paying a fortune to do it. I don't know if it will ever become a reality, but my grandmother used to tell me about their buggy in Iowa and how much the world had changed since her youth, so I continue to believe it could be.

Next week I will have a chance to continue my dream, even though the real culmination may never happen. The space shuttle program is closing down, and only three launches remain. US astronauts will for the foreseeable future be limited to hitching a ride with the russian rockets, same as everyone else. Meanwhile, I didn't study science, and my back doesn't allow me to ride on rollercoasters, let alone a rocketing spaceship. I may never make it into space. But next week I will see one of the last space shuttles fly in to space.

I have an opportunity to go see the launch in florida, and meet some of the NASA astronauts and flight control crew. I told Ari of my chance, and even though the timing is terrible, he told me I have to go.

And he's right. I have to. If only to teach my children that I have passions too. I have my dreams, and they are worth fighting for. Even if most days it doesn't seem like I'm getting any closer, they live within me.

So the next time I'm asked what is my real job? Live. Be happy where I am today. Be complete with what I have. But always, always, strive for more. Not because I'm incomplete where I am, but because those dreams and yearning make me even more complete.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The twin thing.

2010-04-27T09:22:00.000-04:00

The last couple of weeks I've gone out with the twins a few times on outings in public. Something many twin mothers do all the time, but that I have stayed away from because of my body and my sanity. It's been great and each time I come home exhausted but beaming. Ari thinks I'm absolutely crazy and compares taking them out to herding cats. But I love it. I'm proud of them. I'm proud of me, and as long as you're able to ignore the inherent chaos within, it usually goes pretty well.

Long gone are the days when I smile to people say to me ignorantly, oh, I've always wanted twins! So did I. I mean, seriously, it's the cutest thing ever to take two dolls and dress them the same. Fawn over two babies laying sleeping together in the stroller. Who wouldn't want that?

Whoever said "oh, I've always wanted twins!" has never actually taken care of them for more than an hour or two.

Actually, that's not completely accurate. There are a chosen few who excel in caring for them. We worship these people when we find them, and bribe them as much as possible to move in with us. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to who can handle it, other than they love children, are confident in their ability to handle children, stay calm in the face of chaos, and have a good amount of physical strength. But the fact is, there are very few people who walk away from my home after watching the twins without needing a very long nap, and double checking their birth control.

The irony is, my twins are actually very, very, good as these things go. They sit well at mealtimes, go to sleep on a dime, follow directions pretty well for two year olds. Heck, they even do well in a parking lot. In fact, when I take one out on his own, it's the easiest thing in the world, because they really are well-behaved. But the issue is, in the world of twinsanity, 1+1 does not equal two. There's some cosmic metamorphosis that happens when you get them together that causes a ruckus that is both charming and immensely draining. So you end up trying to herd very cute monsters.

It's not their fault that they both need me RIGHT NOW. They're kids. Every child has a right to a drink, a book, a snuggle, a snack, a coat, the potty, a good cry, or whatever the need may be at that time. The problem, however, is that I'm losing brain cells these days, not gaining them, which is having a direct correlation on my ability to multitask. I can block out the demanding, but I really can't address them all at once. So they learn to wait. They learn to be patient. They learn that they are not the center of my family, but a part of it, something that my eldest struggles with. They learn that even though it involves waiting, I will eventually get to them, and do my best to fill their need.

The result? They are fantastically happy kids. My bandwagon kids, I call them. They're up for anything, any outing or adventure, so rare is the occasion. They generally eat what I give them, or if they don't want it, don't waste much breath complaining about the lack of choices. They take each other to go play downstairs or outside. They are oblivious to whose clothes is whose and whose books are whose. They love to watch me cook, and don't think about it taking away from their time. When they're sick of me they go find each other and make up a game.

Of course, this could be an age thing. 2-3 is much more happy go lucky and indifferent to personal self than 6. But somehow I think that being born into a family that they joined instead of created has somehow altered their consciousness permanently. They do each have their own self-image. Each one has a very distinct personality and they are incredibly different, something every visitor remarks upon. But despite the differences, they draw strength from each other rather than oppose (at least most days.)

I lay awake racked with guilt thinking about how little I give them compared to what I gave G. But then, I see them taking comfort in each other. In their big brother. In their own selves. And I think, maybe this isn't so bad. They're doing pretty well, all things considered. And the trade off to the lack of individuality is that they will never ever be lonely.

Then of course I worry about what will happen one day when they are lonely. But I'm a mother, it's my job to worry. And their job is to ignore it all and continue to take joy in one another.

So when people come to me and say, oh, I always wanted twins! I nod politely and continue on my way, or I say- it's hard on the parents but amazing for them. But inside I am flexing my muscles. Parenting is most likely the hardest thing I will ever do. But as in all challenges, I am building up my muscles, and very, very proud of them.

Overheard in the Lowell Home

2010-04-25T00:07:00.001-04:00

In no particular order but I'm sure you will notice the themes in our homes these days.

Ilan: I'm angry! And I'm sad! Because I want to play baseball!
Ilan: excuse me sir!
Ilan: where'd my nadavi go?
Ilan: no, his name is nadavi, not idav!
Ilan: ima, take anoder picture of me!
Ilan: wanna watch a movie! Me wanna watch superman!
Ilan: me want play munchkins too! Okay ima, your turn!

Nadav: me idav. He's ilan, and me idav!
Nadav: me sleep wit ima's giraffe. Dat funny?
Nadav: me ate it all up. Dat funny ima?
Nadav: that's my ima's hat. Dat funny?
Nadav: ima, I lost you! I'm sad.
Nadav: me want to watch you (cooking, playing, whatever)
Nadav: where'd my ilani go?
Nadav: me superman!

Gavriel: Ima, let's play munchkins. Ima, what are boots of butt kicking?
Gavriel: ima, I have lots of potions, see?
Gavriel: Ima, let's play superheroes. Who do you want to be?
Gavriel: ima, what pajamas are the twins wearing tonight, I want to match them.
Gavriel: ima, let's fly to great zayde. But let's not take the brother. And while we're there we can go see the deathstar (mall of america legoland)
Gavriel: ima... (Imagine 30 minutes of continuous chatting regarding nonsensical superheroes, pokemon, bakugan, and torah all mixed together)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Nighttime wanderings

2010-04-24T22:29:00.001-04:00

Some nights, no ones moves from their bed or cries. Other nights, it feels like Grand Central Station around here. You just never know how the night is going to play out.

I'm laying in bed tonight, reading about Bella and the Volturi, and eating matza pizza (no, I don't have a life, thank you very much.) I hear crying from Ilan, which is not a big shocker. He's my most frequent crier.

I went in, sighing as once again I respond to his cries, only to be pleasantly suprised at the sight of both of my little ones smooshed together in his small toddler bed. He was crying because he was too hot all covered up and with Nadav so close.

I'm seriously dying of the cuteness.

Then not five minutes later, I'm back in bed, and I hear G in the hallway. He's standing there, crying, and completely asleep. I'm reminding all my loyal readers, I take no responsibility for this gene, because although he got it from me it's from my mother! SHE'S the culprit!

I walked him back to bed, to find all his many many stuffed animals lined up, peering at me from over the bed rail. Once a line maker, always a line maker, I guess. That kid is either going to be a vet, a zookeeper, or a taxidermist. Please God let it not be the latter!

Signing off for the night. It's only ten pm, but God knows how many wakings we'll be having tonight. Just don't tell the kids that I secretly love it when they do this... as long as I'm not sleeping yet.

Just when you think you've got it all, that things are pretty good and you're happy, they swoop in and give you just a little more. Those are the best nights, wanderings and all.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Mitoch Tza'ar Bah Simcha- Out of Grief Comes Happiness.

2010-04-20T10:10:00.000-04:00

Today is Israel's birthday- the 62nd, since the establishment of the state of Israel.

Not an easy day, following on the heels of Yom HaZikaron, Memorial Day. Not easy at all. So much so that I tried to avoid Memorial Day yesterday, but ended up feeling inexplicably depressed anyways. My soul knew, even if my brain tried to deny it. So I finally sat down and instead of trying to forget, I remembered. I remembered my roomate, Yael, who was gunned down along with her husband outside their home, at nine months pregnant. My Rav's son, Shmuel, who was killed on pesach in Jenin, my Rav Eli and his wife Dina who were murdered at the shabbat dinner table in front of their children, the child I once babysat, Kobi, who was stoned to death with a friend playing hooky from school. I prayed for strength to be a rock for those who have lost more than I. For my faith. Wisdom for our leaders. For the untold thousands who I don't know personally who have been lost. For the families. I prayed in thanks for being saved several times just minutes from such tragedy, for my husband who served and came out without a scratch, and I prayed for my sons, who one day might be asked to stand a post and guard that which we hold so dear. A blessing to live in the days of redemption, a state of our own after thousands of years, and yet it comes at such a dear price.

And it helped. Some things need to be acknowledged before they can go away, I suppose. And then the inevitable shift from sorrow to joy- to celebration and gratitude. My boys all went to school today in blue and white. I forgot to take a picture, but will do later today. Tradition, after all, is an important thing. I proudly send them off in blue and white, they should know and hold Israel with them, even though we aren't there today.

It's been a busy month. Of course, it's always busy. But we had a busy Passover, followed by a week of visits by Ari's parents, followed by a long weekend with good friends. All good things, but today is the first day of our home being empty again. It seems so quiet. Not that that will last, of course, since as soon as the kids come home we have enough noise for one family and then some. Good noise though- happy, loud, and boisterous.

Yesterday I went to pick up the twins from day care, and Ilan asked me, "Ima, did you have a good day?"

I ask him that myself every day, so it's not surprising that he mimic me, and yet, something in the asking was so considerate, he really wanted to know. So I hugged my three Israeli boys close to me tight, said a prayer that they never be in the line of fire themselves, and said, yes, Ilan, I had a very good day.

Today I celebrate. I wipe away the tears, take a deep breathe, and don my own blue and white. This is how the Israelis do it, and I count myself among them. We grieve. And then we dance. It is the way God chose to give us our country, and we continue the observation each year as a reminder that our State comes at a very dear price. We dance with such joy because we cried the day before. The pain, the loss, the sacrifice- I wouldn't say it was worth it. How can I judge for those families what the cost is of their loss? No, not worth it persay, but remembered. We remember each payment as we celebrate. They are never ever forgotten. And we dance.

Progress!

2010-03-17T10:31:00.001-04:00

I set up my phone so I can email blog entries! I'm not at my computer enough these days, but I spend lots of time with my phone waiting in random places, so I will hopefully be able to pick up the pace around here! Yay! Can't really do pics from here, but writing works great.

Started my day with the luck of the irish; I won a mug from Mimi for following her blog, which I do anyways! Yay! My first pesach mug :)

Now I'm drinking coffee and sitting at Columbus Circle waiting for PT and my Alexander class. Yes, I take a class on how to stand ;) It's fun watching the red-haired green-clothed people walking to go line up for the St. Paddy's day parade down fifth avenue. Even the horses are wearing green rosettes. I'm not a saint fan, obviously (except new orleans, that was an awesome game), but the Irish have had enough trouble in their long history that I don't mind getting behind this day and rooting for them.

Speaking of PT, nadav had a dry day last shabbat, using the potty for the first time. We're so proud of him! Hasn't repeated this at day care, but it's a start!

We had sivya's bat mitzva on sunday. Everyone had a great time, even with the monsoon that came through the night before, especially hitting bergen county. Ari and Sharona and especially Sivya did an amazing job managing the crisis with grace and eases, at least what we saw ;) My boys had an awesome time- especially with the hershey's kisses that were on every table. Let's just say that between that and the time change, bedtime was, um, interesting that night.

It's gorgeous out, I'll leave you with a saying from each kid and go enjoy the park. More soon!

Ilan: how about...I play throw the ball with you! How about... You read me books! How about... You make me chicken!

Nadav: helllllo? Me eat abba brains!!!

Gavriel: Ima, you're so yummy, I'm going to eat you all up! Yumymumumymumum (pretend knawing on arm). Oh wait (shifts to fake sad voice), then I won't have an ima anymore. No eat ima anymore. Have to eat cereal. Sad.
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Overheard in the Lowell home...

2010-02-22T17:44:00.004-04:00

In no particular order, and without much editing. Here we go!

Ari (while cooking in the kitchen): Ilan, I have no more patience for your whining. You have your paci and your lovey, if you need to self soothe, you can go do it somewhere else.

Ari (said following my IQ testing for his assessment course): So it turns out that you're an off the charts genius in verbal comprehension, except your working memory and processing are so hampered that you might as well be an idiot.
Shana: yeah, tell me something I don't know. I've been telling you for years I have the memory of a peapod. But hey, at least I know exactly what a peapod is.

Ari (looking over from the kitchen toward sunroom): Ilan, please stop screaming at the dinner table.
Ilan: No! I wanna scream ring ring (said at top volume).
Shana (under my breathe): He wants to scream ring ring. How exactly do we compete with that?

Gavriel (upon hearing that one of his new fish died in the quarantine tank): WAHHHHHHH! But Ima, I never got to show him to the other fish in my room. He never got to see my room or my toys, or my friends. Ima, if they all die and we get new ones I won't remember their names and then won't remember to tell the other fish about them so they can all be sad!

Shana: Ilan, go get your paci.
Ilan: No, wait Ima, I need help finding it. You please come with me?
Shana: blink. blink.

That's the look. The one Ari and I give each other at least once a day that says "did he just say what we think he said?" The answer is always yes.

Shana (observing pre-bath shenanigans): Nadavi, you're naked!
Nadav (looks down): Nooooooo! No, I'm not!
Shana: you just stick to that line of answers under interrogation kid, and you're gonna go far.

Ilan: Abba, I want milk. I'm cranky.
Ari: blink. blink.

More coming later, have to go get the kids from day care so I can feed them all a nutritious dinner of cheerios and apples and send them off to bed. Not that that actually sticks, mind you. Nadav in particular has been enjoying the 3am "I want Abba" wailing for the past two weeks. Figures that Ilan would start sleeping and Nadav would take over.

Everyone said, oh, it'll be so great when Nadav starts speaking more! And I warned them, I said, when he gets going it won't be possible to shut him up. Well, lo and behold, this morning at 6 am I tiptoed past the room and heard Nadav having an entire conversation to himself while Ilan tried to shush him "me still sleeping!"

Ah well, I suppose it was time Ilan got a taste of his own medicine. As for myself, I'm investing in ear plugs. Really really soon.

Finally, a huge huge thanks to all those who chipped in this past week while I was out on medical mommy leave. You know who you are and I appreciate it so much.

Business first-

2010-02-09T17:32:00.002-04:00

Catching up here, sorry I've been so dormant. Dealing with kiddos and back issues, and I keep putting off the long posts, which one day I will learn is a bad idea.

In the meantime, my brother went to Haiti, and had an amazing trip. I am so proud of him. He has pics and descriptions up on a new blog. I am so so proud of him. I am also enormously grateful of my friend Liz whose blog readers came up with a several thousand dollars in donations in just over 48 hours. Less grateful and impressed with paypal who has been nothing but difficult during the aftermath of this fundraising.

Off to go rest, will be back with more soon including my health update, Ilan's words of the week, and our new Bible reader.

Donations for Haiti

2010-01-22T11:11:00.002-04:00

My brother is going to Haiti on Monday as part of a surgical team with his hospital in Florida. He is taking donations to help buy meds and supplies to take with him since the supplies there are minimal. ie. doing amputations with motrin :(

100% of donations will go directly to purchasing meds and supplies this weekend that will be taken into the field on Monday morning. So many of us feel paralyzed by what is going on, and this is one concrete thing we can do and know that they will receive the gift asap. I know most people have already given money, but even a little bit will go a long way.

Here is the original email from him to our family. If you want to email me a pledge, and then mail a check to him that's fine, or you can paypal me at llowella@bigfoot.com and he will cover the pledges to go get supplies this weekend. But please let me know if you'll be sending something so I can tell him amounts and he will cover the expense until it arrives.

I know times are tough, but they are even tougher down there. Please give, if you can. Even a little bit can go a long way.

Original Email from my brother and sister-in-law:

Dear Family and Friends,
As Jews, we are supposed to take action when fellow human beings are in distress. As a doctor, the phrase"!לא תעמוד על דם רעך You shall not stand idly by your brothers blood" has an added meaning and responsibility that I am priveledged to be a part of. We have just found out that Elie is going to be joining a surgical team in Haiti starting this monday morning for 4 to 5 days. It is being sponsored by his hospital, Holy Cross in Fort Lauderdale and will include ER docs, Anesthesiologists, Surgeons (I will be 1 out of 2), and Critical care specialists. While they will be only able to take in what they carry on their backs, our hope is to have some amount of medicines and surgical tools/supplies that will be directly used by the team on the ground. Elie will be able to obtain medications, such as basic antibiotics, pain medicines, water purifying tablets, lidocaine, etc... at cost and is looking to raise money between now and the trip to beable to purchase as much of these vital and life-saving medicines as he can carry.His email is eschochetmd@gmail.com. If you are able to send a pledge before he leaves we will be happy to honor it. Thank you, Elie and Abby

Anyone know HTML?

2010-01-07T10:22:00.003-04:00

I LOVE this background. But don't know how to edit the template to get the blogger tabs back, plus the calendar thingy and the google tracker. Help! Pretty please?

Oh, and Ilan is awesome. But driving me freaking bananas. Which is saying a lot since I'm not a monkey.

_________________

Okay- I take it back. I figured out some of it, but even though it says I still have the nav bar it's not showing up. Which isn't a huge deal, but annoying me slightly. Anyone? Bueller?

Growing up

2010-01-05T09:47:00.003-04:00

This morning Ilan was snuggling in my bed, and before I could say anything to him, he said, "I love you Ima"

On Sunday I took each of the twins individually for shoes. The one left at home was genuinely distressed at the other's absence. Ilan wandered around the house saying "Nadavi, where are you? Where did Nadavi go?" Nadav did the same when Ilan left. They may fight, and they may not even play together most of the time, but they are bonded beyond my imagination.

Gavriel helped his brothers find their way to our bed for snuggle time. And then he offered to make them breakfast.

Then they all played "if your happy and you're know it, clap your hands", led in chorus by Abba.

These are the wonderful days. Everyone is growing, and healthy, and learning to love each other for what they are, family.

Oh, and last night everyone slept in beds. Through the night. It took Nadav less than one night to settle down, and took Ilan a good week to transition, but transition he has, and everyone continues to grow up. Life goes on, and thankfully, it goes well.

A few prayers please...

2009-12-29T12:24:00.003-04:00

for a precious little one on her way to making another IM (intended mother) a mommy again today.

http://3embryos2women1womb.blogspot.com/

Egg Basket is mid-induction right now, and Danielle and Ethan are waiting anxiously for progress.

Brings back a lot of memories to a very hectic day back in June 2007. Hopefully there's is a calmer day!

Overheard in the Lowell home...

2009-12-27T10:36:00.002-04:00

These days it's all about imitating big brother Gavriel. If G is doing it, the twins want in. The greatest reward is to be allowed to play in his room for a few minutes. The ultimate punishment, banishment for a thousand and one days (Cheaper by the Dozen fans, anyone?)

This morning Ilan whacked Nadav. Gavriel then very slowly and carefully explained to Ilan:

Gavriel: "Ilan, you can't hit Nadavi, because Superman doesn't do bad things, he only goes after bad guys. You can't hit the good guys and be superman too."
Ilan: Okay Gavriel, me no hit Nadavi.

Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to apply when G decides to haul off and take out his brothers. But the intention is there, and maybe Ilan will hesitate a bit next time.

Later this morning, all three boys are in G's bedroom, all of a sudden they burst out, chasing down invisible bad guys:

Gavriel: Let's go get the bad guys!
Ilan: Me want fight bad guys too!
Nadav: Me run fast too!

And on a different note, my silent one is still relatively silent, but speaking more every day, and truly trying hard to say new sounds. His mouth is weaker, and he doesn't form the sounds as well, but it's coming with practice. Ari's been working on saying "Nadav" with him, and another special sound. Two and half years later, countless silent days, and my littlest one turned to me this week and said "Hello Ima".

I don't need much in the way of reward. I don't expect it, and am really okay with the selfless years of parenting. But sometimes rewards come when you don't expect it, and the gratitude comes flowing in.

Hello Ima.

Waves of thanks flowed through me. For a healthy little boy who is 100% there, and just needed a little more time to find his way to communicate with us.

I'm good now for another few months. Until potty training that is. Then I'm gonna need a whole heck of a lot of rewards for myself.

additional thoughts

2009-12-24T14:10:00.002-04:00

Thank you to all who have commented to me, both on here and privately. It means so so much to me.

Sometimes I think I'm working so hard to keep the pain out, I don't spend enough time letting other people in. I'm sorry for that.

I didn't post what I did to make others feel guilt or pity. I did it because for the most part those of you who read here love us. And I am extremely grateful for that, but also felt that I need to be honest in who we are. Sometimes we are up, and sometimes we are down, and sometimes we are way down. But we always come back up.

Always.

Whoops!

2009-12-23T15:51:00.001-04:00

Sorry for the schizophrenic color changes folks. I came downstairs to my desktop and realized that the color scheme I had picked was really YELLOW. I don't know about you, but I'm not a huge fan of reading posts written on a pee-yellow background. But that's just me.

Carry on.

Spoons.

2009-12-23T08:59:00.005-04:00

The Spoon Theory

by Christine Miserandino www.butyoudontlooksick.com

My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?

I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said " No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet.

Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared”

Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons".

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my "spoons".
© 2003 by Christine Miserandino Butyoudontlooksick.com

This is a very touching and the most accurate account of living with chronic pain that I have encountered so far. I bolded the parts that speak to me the most. The title of the website is a hint of one of the greatest battles of my illness. Also known as, "are you sure it's not in your head?" and "but you seem all better?" and "why aren't you working?", "why doesn't Ari come to shul?" Sometimes there's even the "You're so lucky you didn't have to be pregnant with the twins!" and "How could you have moved back from Israel?"

Some of them are more thought than voiced, but the others are pervasive as well. Perhaps most telling is an interaction my husband and I had back in 2005. We were living in Jerusalem and I had spent most of the year in bed due to debilitating back pain. I was hospitalized more than once for pain and in a rehab day program with soldiers, bomb victims, and old ladies who had broken their hips. Someone else was caring for my toddler. I was forced to wean him, and lifting him was out of the question. I was unable to sit in chairs for the most part, so guests would come to our home and I couldn't join them at the table. Meals were taken lying down on my side in bed. No driving, no shul. No cooking or cleaning. Fewer friends every day. My husband was a single dad while also running a start-up business and caring for a bed bound wife in a foreign country. One beautiful spring morning I managed to go downstairs with Ari to the little cafe directly below our building. We sat there, enjoying our breakfast in the sunlight, feeling normal for the first time in a long time. We talked about Gavriel, our hopes, and dreams. And felt human, just for that one morning. Just another young couple.

Then someone we knew walked up to us, all sunny and cheerful, well-meaning and happy to see us outside together, and said "oh! how wonderful, I guess this means you're all better!" Ari and I swallowed hard, and mumbled some form of deterring answer while the reality of what our life had become settled in.

There is no cure. There is better, and less better. There are days with many spoons, and thank God these days there are many more spoons that there used to be, but then there are days with very few spoons. Days when getting up and getting the children off to school uses up the daily allotment. Many days when the kids eat cereal or chicken nuggets because what I planned for dinner wasn't doable when the spoons ran out mid afternoon.

I always hold one in reserve for 3:45 when my oldest walks in from school. I have to make it up to him, that little boy who gave up so much when his mother all but disappeared. I stand at the door and wait for him, sit with him while he does homework and has a snack. Even if an hour later I have to lay down and see the disappointment in his eyes, maybe one day he will remember that I was always there when he walked through the door.

What the questioning eyes don't know is that we have the big house because I'm stuck in it for so many hours. Some days it is a beautiful blessing that I revel in, and some days it is a prison. We have a laundry room next to the bedrooms so some days I can do it myself and not have to pay someone to do it, or ask Ari and hope that it gets done as I would do it myself. The fancy side-opening ovens not for show but so that sometimes I can cook and not feel bad when once again my husband has to make shabbos. The pot filler because it's the only way I can ever make soup or pasta.

It is a mental drain. Always planning, always budgeting energy. And some days, like today, I made a plan expecting to have 15 spoons, and woke up with only 8. And then I had to use up one of those working at not getting depressed over the disappointment and pain.

Sometimes you have to have chutzpah. Like deciding to have more children even though I felt I couldn't be the best mom to the one I already had. Because once in a while you have to look at the face of evil and say, the hell with you, you may take my body, my money, and my career. You may take my dreams and my hobbies, my passions. But you will NOT win. I will do what is most important to me, and I will succeed in it. If I succeed in one thing, it will be to have my family. My husband and my children, and damn my spine for thinking it can get in the way of that.

We don't know what the future holds. I have been told that I have the back of an 80 year old. What does that mean for my health when I am 50, 60, or 80? We don't know. We do what we can to preserve it. I do as much as possible to enjoy today, to get stronger for tomorrow, and raise our children with our form of normalcy. I am healthier today at 31 than I was at 27, which gives us hope. And we live in a time when advances in medicine may be there when I hit the real 80, God willing.

In the meantime, I will plan out my 8 spoons for today, and make sure I am at the door at 3:45.

Guess we clean up nice :)

2009-12-01T22:55:00.002-04:00

Our synagogue had a photo shoot to create a photo directory. We all went after a long Sunday at the zoo, and thanks to hubby, changed our clothes at the last minute. Not too bad considering! I think we're making progress because Ilan isn't upside down this year. Then again, that's not nearly as fun!!!

Things I learned while visiting my mom with the kids (without my darling husband)

2009-11-24T16:04:00.002-04:00

In car DVD players are God's gift to parents.

GPSs and pacifiers are tied for a close second.

It is not a good sign when you're 15 minutes in to a 3.5 hour drive and one of the children says "want get out!"

It is possible to evade the husband's ban on no more artsy bowls by having your mother give them to you when you arrive at the house.

The same technique is possible when shopping at a craft show with a very small budget.

It is a good thing that our television is behind closed doors, and only opened occasionally.

It is also a very good thing that our videos and cd are under lock and key.

My mother is extremely tolerant of small monsters tearing apart her house, as long as there's clean up time at the end of the day.

Ilan is ready to move to a bed. Nadav will be ready when he's 20 and there is a deadbolt on the door.

I need to carpet their floor or lay down a rug before I move them to beds.

Miss Audrey looks absolutely fantastic. Mr. Bill is awesome as always. Pete and Jack are respectful sweet boys who love my mother. Which I love.

Ilan is a mutant who won't eat pizza or ice cream.

Gavriel is a mutant who won't eat anything besides pizza or ice cream.

Nadav will eat anything.

I need to invest in sugar pills so when the twins demand "medicine" at 5am I have something to give them besides Motrin and feeling extremely guilty for drugging them for no good reason other than my sleep deprivation.

Gavriel is ridiculously cute when he's co-sleeping as long as it's in a king size bed. He's also ridiculously cute when he gets a new stuffed animal. Even if it's not the one I would have picked. And he thinks it's hilarious that I woke him in the nighttime to change him and he has no memory of the event.

All of my children adore candy, books, and Bubby. Especially Bubby.

Miracles are possible when you have your mother behind you.

Five years ago if you told me that this weekend I would take my three children under 6 for a road trip to Maryland, have the two small ones stay in beds for the first time, stay there with my mom until Monday, loaded up the car and driven home alone, I would have looked at you in disbelief. Then I would have laughed until I cried.

Miracles can happen. With help from mom who gutted the junk room and made a wonderful bedroom for the twins, not to mention changed diapers all weekend, good friends who packed up most of the trunk, and three really awesome kids. They really can happen.

Maybe he's really 4 or 5?

2009-11-17T22:57:00.003-04:00

These are the things I heard from Ilan tonight:

When picking him up at day care: "I want to say goodbye now"

When I drop a tissue next to the garbage can: "oh no, what happened?"

When I tripped over my shoes: "Ima, are you okay?"

While watching Superman try to save Krypton: "Ima, he's scared. Ima, he's funny! Ima, he's superman!"

Did I mention he won't take off the Abraham Lincoln hat?

Motherhood is hard as hell.

2009-11-17T16:04:00.002-04:00

And I can say hell, because I'm a mommy and we get special dispensation.

It's freaking hard on the best of days. Relentless, all-encompassing, all-consuming. Unlike the idyllic portrayal of pregnancy and motherhood in the media, the invasion doesn't stay limited to our uterus, but quickly expands to affect all parts of our body. Our breasts are no longer our own. I suddenly needed glasses for the rest of my life. Although my feet never swelled in pregnancy, I went up half a shoe size when it was all over. In my case my back was so strained I couldn't bear the weight of a baby more than once. Things no one tells you about, and you never hear about in the cute pregnancy movie.

And then motherhood arrives, and it's even worse. We're already weakened from carrying a huge load for nine months, and we suddenly have a parasite attached to us 24/7. Only in this case the parasite screams, and demands, and bewilders. And thankfully continues to grow, and learns to smile, and sleeps once in a blue moon. But as it grows, the demands on us grow as well. Mobility. Speech. Appetite. Cogent thought. And we, the mothers, can barely catch our breath. Suddenly saddled not only with the physical well-being of another person, but also the emotional and spiritual well-being, it's no wonder I have trouble sleeping some nights, wondering if I made the right call during the playdate, if I said the right thing when my son was struggling, praying for wisdom the next time a hard question comes my way.

It's no wonder that mothers worldwide take a deep sigh of relief on Monday morning. The rest of the world goes to work, and we have finally have a moment to shower. To go to the bathroom alone. Perhaps even for a cup of coffee. And these are the mothers who are blessed to work only inside the home, those who leave to go to another job keep running without even that moment.

Yes, it's hard as hell. So is being president of the united states. But I bet Barack Obama wouldn't give up his job even on the hardest of days.

Neither would I.

___________________________________________________

Take a look at my friend Liz's blog this week. www.damomma.com She makes a remarkable statement to struggling mothers everywhere. Read it. If that's you, and I freely admit that some days it's me, read it. Read the comments. And know that you are not alone. It is the hardest job no one will ever pay you for. It is relentless. It is demanding. And wonderful. So so wonderful.

Let's play guess the bed!

2009-11-17T11:04:00.004-04:00

I'm sure you can do it. Of course, the fact that one is a bed, and the other two are cribs is a give-away, but I bet you can tell the difference anyways.

Just to help out:

A. Exhibit A has a super light blanket for a sweaty sleeper. Mounds and mounds of stuffed animals thrown together haphazardly, some absconded from big brother, some from Ima and Abba. Roughly a dozen pacifiers and no fewer than three loveys are hidden under the piles.

B. Exhibit B has a dozen webkinz and assorted stuffed animals lined up neatly along the side of the bed. Ima shirt #1 is laid neatly across the pillow, topped by Ima shirt #2, topped by green snuggly, topped by lovey begged for when brothers received similar. At least two books in the bed, probably 5 or more under the covers hiding. The animal lineup changes, but the pillow contents never vary without causing undue distress.

C. Exhibit C is a warm snuggly fleece blanket, accompanied by a single pacifier, Cookie Monster, and Grover, laid out waiting for a hand to snuggle them when said occupant lays down the same way each night.

I know you can do it.

Dontcha just love all those behavioral psychologists who claim that if only we raised them all the same way, they'd all be identical?

I'm just the chauffeur and the cook!

2009-11-13T16:24:00.006-04:00

I knew independence was going to happen, I just didn't think it would happen so quickly!

I grew up with my mother talking about the craziness of multiple carpools, and the driving around, cooking big meals for us every day, and her joking how she was the chauffeur, the cook, and the maid. I never meant to make her feel like that, but the truth is, kids are pretty needy, and so I suppose it happened regardless of our intentions or level of gratitude. We reach that level of independence all too quickly where we depend on our parents more for practical matters and less for wisdom and guidance. Of course I hope that they will always welcome my teachings and direction, but I also know that at a certain point they will want to spread their wings without me. Or at least, without me hanging on too tight.

I always figured I had more time before I get to that stage. After all, the twins are only two, they are still pretty dependant on us. And even Gavriel needs us.

Doesn't he?

Fast forward to bathtime last night, where my darling husband was supervising the twins in the bath. Keeping them from going under, or whacking each other with the rubber duckies. All of a sudden I overhear from the bedroom...

Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!
Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!
Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!

This went on for a LONG time.

Raising twins has always been an adventure. Challenging on the best of days, and all encompassing and exhausting on the hard ones. And while I was laughing over this conversation, and grinning at Ari, I was also marveling at the independence that having a twin provides. They have each other to be there for one another, to answer those eternal "whys?" They always will. I just hope they let us guide them once in a while. Or at least let us in on the joke.

postscript.

2009-11-10T00:02:00.003-04:00

Overheard from the adult Lowells in the house.

Ari:
"I'm moving to a deserted Island. Alone. You can't come with me and I'm not leaving a forwarding address." (as Ilan is screaming at 3am)
"I'm buying cake. And eating the entire thing alone." (as Ilan is screaming for chicken during dinner)
"Where is the eject button?" (as Ilan is screaming in the car)

Shana:
"Um Ari, I have this really important, um, conference, yeah, a conference I need to go to, so I will be gone from tomorrow until next Thursday. Don't worry, I'll get a sitter for an hour or two. BYE!"
"Ari love, if I make the shabbat chicken will you do Friday carpool for me?"
"Um Ari, can you do the chicken?" (only after he gets home from carpool...)

Both of us:
"No! We don't want to be superheroes again, Gavriel!"
"Did Ilan just say what we think he said?"
"Oh #$%^, where's Nadav? It's too quiet in this house. Go search all the bathrooms, electronics, and outside doors."

Yes, my friends. They can open doors now. Be on the lookout on Revere and Windsor for little legs running. We are in SUCH trouble, and calling the locksmith in the morning.

Overheard in the Lowell home...

2009-11-09T21:53:00.004-04:00

Gavriel:
"Ima, maybe Hashem ate my extra missing candy and was punishing me for something I did wrong" (Yes, we talked about how Hashem doesn't punish little boys)
"Ima, I want to help you, I want to do mitzvot and be a tzadik"
"Ima, I think we should stop for a slurpee. And candy. And maybe another snack. Ima, can I have chocolate milk when we get home?"
"Ima, I voted for chocolate. You could vote for chocolate or twizzlers. It was election day Ima."

Ilan:
"Get out of my way"
"me do it!"
"me want dinner, me want chicken now"
"me want something else" (in middle of night, demanding an extra stuffed animal in the crib)
"Dav!" (when asked by Ari in the morning who should be changed first)
"me want more cookies please!"
"dav hit me! he hit me!"
"you okay Ima?" (asked me after I tripped)

Nadav:
"more please!"
"my shoes"
"me too!"
"me fun!"
"hop pop!" (read hop on hop Gavriel!)

It may not seem like a lot from Nadav, but some of those sounds are brand new, and we are extremely proud of him trying so hard to speak. As for the other two, well, Ilan clearly is making his wishes known on a daily basis, and is often looking out for others, especially Nadav. Gavriel is doing great in first grade, and continues to grapple with our teachings, our religion, and the modern world we live in. Man, we're busy, we're tired, but we're having fun too. At least once or twice a day Ari and I just glance at each other, saying with our eyes, yes, they're totally nuts and drive us crazy, but they are so cute and sweet too.

Well, in daylight, at least.

Better than nothing, so no griping!

2009-10-25T20:38:00.007-04:00

Random yet important

2009-10-23T11:03:00.003-04:00

Please forgive the mish-mash of topics. Life has been a bit hectic lately. Yes, it's always hectic.

Bzzzzzz...
Poor Ilan was stung by a bee this week. He reached down to get a book and a dying bee stung him. He was so shocked that an animal hurt him, that all he could say was "bzzzz hurt me!" It reminds me of the time Gavriel saw his first elephant at the zoo. He was terrified and shocked at how big it was, compared to the ones in his books. It always reminds me that they have no frame of reference for anything beyond what we teach them. Lions are no more fierce than puppies, and both are inventions of literature in our home.

While I was away...
My loving husband held down the fort while I went to Ottawa to volunteer for a very important conference sponsored by the Coalition for Breech Birth. www.breechbirth.ca It was monumental, and the perfect blend of practical medical information and the emotional face of what is wrong in our health care system. I also got to meet, have lunch, and get a hug from Ina May Gaskin. Google her. She is the mother of modern midwifery and a living icon. I was also given the opportunity to hold the Mother's quilt, similar to the AIDS quilt, with squares memorializing mothers who have been lost to childbirth. It was a very emotional moment, and I could feel the pain of those families who had made the beautiful patches.
The conference really was AMAZING, as was my opportunity to meet and chat with outstanding birth practitioners from Israel, Australia, Germany, the UK, Canada and the US. By this point, I think I can safely catch a breech baby, but think maybe I'll leave that one to the experts. I also was privileged to see my good friend Robin perform in an outstanding play, Birth, by Karen Brody and the BOLD initiative. I spent most of intermission processing my emotions from the play, but also just sitting and being so proud of being this woman's friend. The best part, however, was while waiting in the airport to fly back home, I was told by two separate midwives and an OB also waiting for their flights that they now feel energized to go home and tackle their hospital's anti-breech anti-VBAC policies. I feel like that is the best we could have hoped for from the attendees.

Moving on to reason number 457 why I deserve to have a daughter:
Gavriel: (while running and whooping through the house) I'm spike! I'm nightcrawler! I'm an x-man!
Ilan: (chasing after him and jumping in front of me) Me an x-man too Ima! Me an x-man!
Nadav: me too!

Why I love Jewish day school:
Gavriel this am early in my bed: Here Ima, hold Foxy (stuffed animal), she'll help you have good dreams.
Me: oh really, what did you dream about?
Gavriel: Me and Abba, and Ilan and Nadav, we were, how do you say it? The ones that give you a bracha in shul? Oh right, we were Cohen's. And we were in the Beit Hamikdash. Oh, but not the regular ones. We were the Cohen Gadol. So we got to talk to Hashem. Ima, do we get to have the special clothes too?

later in the day...
Me: Gavriel, please stop disciplining your brothers. You worry about taking care of you, and your Abba and I will take care of them.
Gavriel: But Ima, I want to be a tzadik. I want to do lots of mitzvot. So I'm helping take care of them.

And that's the way we roll folks. Hang on, some fun pictures coming soon.

Someone explain to me why it's fuzzy on blogger but clear on Iphoto?

2009-09-25T13:25:00.000-04:00

from left to right: Ilan, Nadav, Gavriel. Eating the most boring dinner I could possibly have come up with.

And then there's the silent but deadly type.

2009-09-25T12:52:00.002-04:00

Let's face it. When Ilan is causing mischief, it's not a secret. He's loud, he's boisterous, he's exuberant, and he stays up close and personal, flaunting the mischief making in front of you.

Nadav, on the other hand, is a whole 'nother ballgame. Once upon a time in single-child land, when the house was quiet, I would (rightly) assume that Gavriel was busy playing alone, and rejoice in the silence and go take a nap. Nowadays that silence is reason for concern because Nadavi, oh, my Nadavi. He is the one who you need to go looking for when things get a bit too quiet. The one who is going to take my toaster apart like his Uncle Zeke, or maybe even the dining room table, just like his Abba. He's the reason I keep all the doors shut, and have considered toilet locks.

The thing is, Davi is really a very good kid. He cooperates while getting dressed, likes getting his diaper changed, and generally goes along with the flow. He's not a climber, and he's generally not destructive. He just truly thinks about things and works on seeing how they tick, in both objects and people alike. He's started putting together train track, and likes puzzles as well. He puts up with Ilan's persistent mischievousness and likes to join in on the game, flashing the dimples he knows will exonerate him. But he also likes to sit on the sidelines and watch. He'll watch the dynamic, watch the action, and then jump in if he's comfortable.

Nadav is still mostly non-verbal. He resembles a caveman at times, using grunts and gestures to convey his intent, and has no problem doing so. He has a few critical words such as "want this", "mine", and the all important "me too", but it strikes me that most of his words are questions: "where's abba? what's dat? why dat? where are you?" And just recently I began hearing "why?" The why I haven't heard from the other two, that didn't occur to them to ask. But for this one, the why is more important than the rest of the words still waiting to be mastered.

They say we spend the first year waiting for our children to take their first step, and say their first word, and then the rest of their lives wanting to tell them to sit down and shut up. In our case, Nadav was my latest walker, and my latest talker, but I have a feeling that once he gets going, he's going to be unstoppable. And while I know those why's will drive me crazy, I absolutely can't wait to hear what's going on behind that silent face.

I would like to make an announcement.

2009-09-24T09:28:00.002-04:00

We have emptied the last of the boxes, and blinds are finally going up on the windows. Someone say a prayer, we managed to do it, and it isn't even a year yet. Just under nine months, to be exact. Hallelujah!

No, we haven't finished anything else on the house to do list, but dang it, we can walk around naked and have no boxes!!!

No, we don't really walk around naked. Not that you could tell anyways with the blinds up :)

Hope springs eternal in the middle child.

2009-09-21T20:40:00.004-04:00

He has spirit. That we know for sure. Thoughtful, considerate, impish, devilish, loving, clingy, energetic, messy, enthusiastic, sensitive, happy, and scampering. Most of all, scampering. Whether to bath, to bed, to a meal or to play, he scampers his way to the next task with a squeal and a smile.

Ari walks in to the twins' room in the morning to change diapers and get them dressed.
Ilan: Abba, breakfast? Donut?
Ari: No Ilan, you can't have a donut for breakfast!
Ilan: Oh. face falls
Ilan: Abba, breakfast? Cupcake?
Ari: No Ilan, you can't have a cupcake for breakfast!
Ilan: Oh. face falls
Ari: how about some cheerios?
Ilan: All right! scampers off the kitchen

While Driving with Ilan to a doctor appointment:
Ilan: Rav?
Shana: Ilani, Nadav is at the Y. You'll go see him soon.
Ilan: Ah-ee-el?
Shana: Gavriel's at school sweetie.
Ilan: Abba?
Shana: Abba went to work little one. You'll see him later.
Ilan: Bubby?
Shana: Sorry babe, Bubby went home last night. You're stuck with me today.
Ilan: oh.
Ilan: Ima, nack? (snack) drink?

Ilan comes up to me holding a book while I'm cooking for yom tov.
Ilan: want story! want read me story! story peez!
Shana: You want me to read you a story?
Ilan: yay! peez! pulling at my hands
Shana: okay, okay Ilan, I'll read you one book. Go take your book to the couch and I'll come meet you there.
Ilan scampers off to the other room
Ilan: me story. Ima read me. OOmph! last sound is made by him bringing me a stack of ten books

And other fun moments:

Nadav sticks a huge piece of apple in his mouth, and grins at Ilan.
Ilan: Nadav is duck. QUACK!!!
Nadav: duh (duck), ME!

Ilan is sitting on the couch falling asleep.
Ari: Ilan, it's almost nap time.
Ilan: Me no want go shluffy yet.

I mean, we handled it. Once we recovered from the flabbergasted looks on our faces. G was a totally different ballgame than these two. Some days I feel like I have no idea how to parent such a spirited kid, or any kid other than my first. But man oh man is it fun to watch that scampering.

It was the night before first grade...

2009-09-07T08:31:00.005-04:00

and all in the house, there wasn't a sound, not even a mouse.

Who am I kidding? It's never that quiet around here. Oh, it may seem quiet, but underneath that calm is always the threat of waking children, house repairs, school obligations, a twist of pain. The fact is, I've been waiting all summer for time to let me sit here and write, and that time never comes. So many times I think of brilliant ideas and titles- but then they pass in the wind before I can commit them to paper. Today I will write some little scraps of them, the best that I can with my sieve of a memory these days.

The kids are awesome. Really awessome. Together they can be a lot to handle, at times just a task to survive; but they are each wonderful. Normal kids, with the challenges that come with it, but also delightful in the way each personality is developing and changing each day as I stare at the little men they are becoming.

Nadav is my soft spoken, and little spoken big man. He is easy going for the most part, self-entertaining, and cooperative. And extremely mischievous. He's the one who we need to look for it it's too quiet in the house. The one who will take apart the toaster to see how it works. And he can be petulant at times. He takes insult to a higher level when he's been offended, and uses his few words to tell us exactly who wronged him. But the acknowledgment of being wronged, and a kiss on the owie makes it all better and he scampers off to play, dimples flashing. He is my water baby. He loves to be read to, loves trying different foods, and delights in asking "what's dat" and "where's abba" constantly. The why's in this child are just bursting to come out, and I have a feeling that once he's more verbal he will be impossible to stop.

Ilan is an oxymoron in so many things. He is my wild child, and yet more fearful and clingy than any of the others. He loves to play. He loves games, and creates them at every opportunity, to the delight and exasperation of his parents. He sings constantly, loves books, is a picky eater, and hates getting dressed. He is finally free of the pressure garment and the constraints it placed on him. He is extremely verbal, asking for some things in full sentences with very good pronunciation. He is my eternal optimist, and it is that spirit that gives me hope for his future. I don't think sitting still in a classroom will be easy for this little one, but his spirit will convince any teacher that he is worth the extra effort.

Gavriel is my mini-me. He loves life, exploration, going out for adventures and planning the day. He is constantly thinking, loves to play with others, friendships, and staying in pajamas until noon. He can be conniving and self-serving, mouthy, and flies off the handle at insults imagined and real. Lately he's been a little wild as the summer drags on. He is sensitive. Sensitive in the way I prayed none of my children would be, since that is my most painful flaw. But with that sensitivity comes loyalty to his family and friends. And love for those he bonds to, compassion and inquisitiveness that I can not begrudge, but instead look for ways to soften the blows when the pangs of hurt come trickling in.

The days roll on in the Lowell house. Guests come and go, the new paint ages prematurely with fingerprints and gouges from monster truck rollerderbys, the kids eat enough hot dogs and cheerios to horrify any pediatrician, and life goes on. Just the way it's supposed to.

How fast we grow!

2009-08-21T09:06:00.005-04:00

Some pics from the summer, in reverse order b/c Blogger is weird. And for some reason some of these are blurry even though they are clear on my computer files. If anyone knows why and how to solve this, I'm all ears!

Superman G
G and Ari in the stalactite caverns

Yay Abba! Nadav on left, Ilan on right

G and Nadav enjoying the hammock in the Golan

G on Ari's tank at Latrun

Nadav busted eating frozen grapes at Kibbutz Lavi

Ari and me at our favorite restaurant in the Galil, overlooking the Kineret.

Me and Davi enjoying the hammock

G learning about how to make olive oil

shluffing babes on the way up north

Me and G hiking Ein Gedi

Ima's first hike in 6 years.
G enjoying Ein Gedi

Ari and G hiking together

Ilan's glee at swiping G's crocs

G and Ilan hop on pop!

G enjoying his popsicles at Ramat Rachel

Cousins Gavriel and Meir reunited
All the Schochet/Lowell grandsons except for Yishai

Family Traditions

2009-07-07T23:42:00.002-04:00

Here at the Lowell house we're all about family traditions. We like to start 'em young on sabbath songs, having frequent guests, and reading books.

Of course, not all family traditions are good ones. The bad back gene and migraines that I seem to have inherited are not up on my popularity list. Although I don't complain much about the freaky sense of direction or language skills. But then there's the little thing I called the ER sibling gene.

You see, when my brother Elie was somewhere around 3rd grade, our older brother Ari accidentally broke Elie's finger. At his own birthday swim party. Elie left the entire party and missed it. Although they are the best of friends now, any mention of this little incident seems to bring grimaces all around.

And in true brotherly fashion, and not wanting to leave out their little sister, on the eve of Elie's bar mitzva, he broke my finger. I didn't miss the party, but I still remember the wonderful timing of that little accident.

So it shouldn't have come as much of a suprise to me this morning when I got a call from my darling husband, informing me that he was on his way to the day care because Ilan's teacher called. Ilan had a gash near his eye, given to him by his loving brother, Nadav. Apparently they both like music class so much they fought over the xylophone, and Nadav whacked him with it on the face. (Lest you think Ilan is completely innocent, Nadav is currently sporting tracks on his back with full outlines of every one of Ilan's teeth, courtesy of a bite a few days ago.)

So off Ari went, and brought Ilan home for examination. Big lump on the temporal bone, small gash on top, and only an inch off of the eye. He's going to look like one hot actor one day. One ER trip later, and no stitches, but a antibiotic prescription, Ari returned Ilan to day care. Nadav walked right on over, pointed to Ilan's bandage, and with the greatest of sympathy, said: "owie lan, oyoiyoi."

Man, I wish I had the cojones on that kid.

Hey, at least it wasn't erev shabbat. I guess he was able to break one Schochet rule that no one goes to the ER unless it's Friday afternoon or right before a holiday. Although given that we're flying to Israel in just a few days, I would venture to say the timing was bad enough to count.

Like I said, family traditions.

Dinnertime

2009-06-18T21:51:00.002-04:00

Shall we play guess the child? It was chili for dinner tonight.

One of the children ate chili.

One of them refused to eat and went off to play.

One of them bargained for a bowl of cereal and ate while reading Abba's forbidden comic book.

Let's see if you can figure it out.

The Graduate.

2009-06-09T09:37:00.001-04:00

vroom vroom, uh-oh.

2009-06-07T21:56:00.002-04:00

Genetics is something I will never quite understand. How one set of parents can create such different children always amazes me.

We're driving in our minivan, and Pixar's Cars is playing on the DVD player (aka the looney bin prevention kit). And as the cars crash on screen, this is what's going on in the back of the bus:

Gavriel: Ima, may I please have a snack? And Ima, I can't find my blue Lightening McQueen, Ima, would the Hudson Hornet beat Lightening McQueen if he was in the Piston Cup now? Ima, is a Porche faster than a Ferrari? Can we stop for a slurpee at the slurpee store? And can you please buy for me a Transformers straw? Is today Friday?

Ilan: vroom, VROOM, VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! All right!

Nadav: uh-oh. owie car. oy yoi yoi.

The thing is, despite the distinct behavior of each one, every day I'm reminded that there are no hard and fast rules in these little beings who are already such little men. To me that is the glory in parenting.

In all things but one Ilan leaps before looking. The child has no sense of self-preservation. He will leap off the dining room table, go down a slide headfirst and jump off screaming "again!", fly off the couch, go smashing in to the wall, dust himself off, and keep crashing. He throws himself in to life with gusto, and no fear. Of course his parents do plenty of worrying for him, so I guess he figures why bother himself with adding to it. Except in water. He loves being splashed, but it's one of the only things that I see occasional fear. This is such an interesting thing for me, because it happens to be one of the other things that Nadav doesn't fear. In general, Nadav is much more reserved, much more timid. He plods instead of scampers, steps with care and more precision than his twin. He doesn't fall as much and doesn't run unless he's making a break for freedom on our driveway. He's more cautious in speech, in eating, and essentially in all walks of life, but one. Water is his element. We take him to the lake and while the whole family stands in the shallow water shivering, he's up to his armpits and grinning and giggling. It's so awesome because it reminds me that each kid has his strengths. There are no hard and fast rules about who is the brave one, who is the shy one, who is kind, and who is gentle. They are all of the above. It reminds me that it's up to us as parents to find what brings each of these traits out in our children and embrace them.

Today Gavriel my fearful one learned to blow bubbles under water. Ilan "sonic vocal cords" Lowell gently sang me Baby Beluga (baby luba wim so fee) and Nadavi my clean eater covered himself in sand from toes to chest. And I was reminded to look at them as anything they want to be. Not who I think they are, but who they really are.

Steaming ahead.

2009-06-04T13:38:00.004-04:00

Life around here tends to come in waves of busy, busier, and frenetic. These days we're somewhere between busier and frenetic, with occasional moments of just plain busy thrown in for relief.

I've been AWOL from my normal life for the better part of two months due to Pesach, my mother's illness, and my recent surgery. The result of this, of course, has bumped up normal busy to a heightened pace, and the pile of unfinished tasks grows larger and larger, with small milestones marking accomplishments. My poor overworked husband, alas, still sleeps in a bedroom with no blinds, and has the decency to mention it only on rare occasions. God bless that man.

The truth, however, is that at least while the children are young, this is really as good as it gets. There will always be unfinished tasks, to do lists, and sleepless nights. Maybe not to this extent, and maybe not this relentless, but everyone is relatively healthy, everyone is relatively sleeping, eating, and growing. The boys are thriving, and Gavriel is close to mastery of reading Hebrew and English, while the twins surprise us with new words and sounds each day. I started buying size 7 shirts for Gavriel our skinny weed, and the twins are rapidly closing in on their second birthday despite our shock at how quickly time passes.

It's not easy. They fight, they get hurt, we hurt, and most days we feel like we're just barely keeping our heads above water. But this is the story of us. This is the family we so desperately wanted and are so happy to have.

This week I had the honor of speaking to a fellow IP. An intended parent via surrogacy. Their carrier is pregnant, thank God, and she is struggling with the ramifications of spending those first 9 months apart from her child. She called me wise, and was grateful for the perspective two years post surrogacy. From my end, I don't feel any more wise than others. We do the best we can given the situation in front of us each day. But I do have perspective, and at least was grateful to be able to share that with her. I enjoyed reliving that experience with her while sitting in my seat of have lived through it successfully, and knowing that all was well with my family. Not everyone is as fortunate, or has as much rapid success as we did with our surrogacy journey, and it was such a delight to be able to pay it forward just a little bit. I pray that a year from now she, too, will be able to pass on her wisdom while holding her little one in her arms.

So that's where we are folks. Life used to roll, but these days it's steaming forward. Tonight Gavriel gets his siddur. A milestone in the life of a Jewish child. He has worked for weeks to prepare for the ceremony, and for months in mastering reading. The camera batteries are charging, his clothes are hanging up waiting, and my tears are already flowing.

June really is a wonderful month. It begins with my birthday, shavuot, and end of the year ceremonies. Then we move on to our anniversary, the twin's birthday, and the start of summer. It just doesn't get better than that.

Happy June everyone.

Yom Yerushalayim

2009-05-22T08:38:00.003-04:00

I am debating how to phrase this post, because I'm having trouble verbalizing exactly what I'm feeling. And yet, better to say it badly than to not say it at all.

Today is Yom Yerushalayim, Jerusalem Day. The day we celebrate the reunification of Jerusalem in 1967. It sounds like such a minor day, but in fact, reclaiming the temple mount was monumental to the Jewish people. Israel without Jerusalem pre-1967 was like a body without a heart.

My mother remembers standing on Mt. Zion in 1964, overlooking the Old City, watching the Jordanian soldiers with the rifles fixed on them, just waiting for someone to make a false move. Staring at the walls with longing, and yet unable to enter. Just three years later, the Six Day War changed everything, and suddenly we regained access to our most holy areas.

I'm glad she was there and remembers, and will be able to tell my children what that was like. Standing there so close and yet unable to touch. Staring. And unable to worship near the site of the Beit HaMikdash. My children live under a blanket of freedom where everything, in their eyes at least, is taken for granted. Of course we can go to the Kotel, of course we can pray, of course we can hang an israeli flag, why wouldn't we?

Unfortunately, those freedoms which we are allowed in America, are becoming increasingly restricted in Israel itself. Tons of precious and invaluable archaeological findings are removed by bulldozers on the Temple mount. Areas that belong to Israel but that we have essentially relinquished control over. And this year, the traditional flag dance, the Rikudgalim, will not go through the Lion's Gate. The very same gate the soldiers entered in 1967, and the police say it's not safe. If it is not safe for Jews to enter through their own land, then why do we bother pretending that it is ours?

When I was eighteen, and nineteen, and for several years following, I danced through those gates. I danced through the night and I danced with the joy of a free people. I danced with friends, with strangers, all of whom were focused on one thing- we are free, we are whole, and we are home. We danced through the night and ended near the kotel for a dawn prayer service. Thousands and thousands of us. We sang the songs of Jerusalem, and cheered proudly that God had restored our ability to worship in our own land. We were respectful of our muslim neighbors. We understood it wasn't a day of celebration for all. But for one day a year we allowed ourselves to put aside the boundaries, put aside the guilt, and go through those walls, and proclaim that God was great in letting us return.

Now everything has changed.

I understand tolerance. I understand a desire for peace. And I understand the need for careful handling of a delicate situation. But in my opinion, if we are giving up our identity, of a people whose fundamental right to worship at our most holiest site is negotiable, what's to stop our enemies from seeing that weakness and declaring our very existence negotiable?

It is said that Bnei Yisrael, the people of Israel, are Bayshanim, Rachmanim, and Gomlei Chasadim. Shy, merciful, and doers of chesed, kind deeds. These are the attributes of our people. And I believe it. At times we are so merciful as to put our own lives at risk to protect those who fight us. This occurs over and over again in our battles. But today we are not at active war. There is no enemy shooting from the walls. Only those within us who continue to shy away from owning what is ours.

I say there is a time to be shy and merciful, and there is a time to be victorious and glorious. The State of Israel would do well to figure out when each one is appropriate, lest we lose our own identity in our kindness.

Below is the article with more details of the dance restrictions:

Restrictions on Jerusalem Day Marchers

Iyar 25, 5769, 19 May 09 04:41

by Hillel Fendel

(IsraelNN.com) Jews celebrating the 42nd anniversary of the reunification of Jerusalem this Thursday and Friday will not be allowed to conduct their flag-waving march through the Old City's Lions' Gate. MK Uri Ariel: The police were able to protect the Pope, but they can't protect Jewish marchers?

The annual parade-and-march features flag-wavers, music, and dancing and is called "Rikudgalim," a compound Hebrew term for "Flags Dance." It has been held every year since the liberation of the Old City of Jerusalem during the Six-Day War of 1967 and now draws thousands of adults and youths for a musical march/dance from downtown Jerusalem to the Western Wall, via the Old City gates.

Police: Three Reasons
Police informed organizers this week that they would not be permitted to enter Lions' Gate, the only currently-open gate on the Old City's eastern side – the side facing Mt. of Olives. The police gave three reasons: Intelligence information, the need to leave a route open, and the fact that last year the Lions' Gate also was closed to the celebrants.

MK Uri Ariel (National Union) is up in arms: "How can it be that the police, who were able to protect the Pope's visit last week over the course of several days, is not able to protect a group of celebrants for a few hours?" he asks with incredulity.

The need for an open route is similarly laughable, according to MK Ariel: "For 20 years we danced through Lions' Gate and this subject never arose; what has changed now?"

What is He Afraid of?
"What is the district commissioner afraid of?" Ariel wants to know. "In his two years on the job, he has succeeded in protecting events that are many times more complex than this one."

"It is not reasonable to assume," said MK Ariel, "that of all places, the police can't protect Lions' Gate – the place by which the first paratroopers entered to liberate the Old City in 1967."

Compromise Proposal
The organizers protest the lack of flexibility on the part of the police and hope they will accept a compromise solution in which some of the celebrants are allowed in for part of the time.

The Rikudgalim, founded by Rabbi Yehuda Chazani, is now held in his memory. Rabbi Chazani was a leader of the Gush Emunim settlement movement and a founder of Ofra and Kedumim.

www.IsraelNationalNews.com

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-11T13:04:00.002-04:00

Better than nothing, and better late than never- three out of my four boys horsing around on mother's day. Hope everyone had a wonderful day!

I did ask for it, didn't I?

2009-04-27T15:43:00.002-04:00

Less than an hour after my previous post, I convinced my best friend down in D.C. to break in to my mother's house to see if she was okay. Luckily the neighbor had a key, so no broken doors or windows, but thank God for daughter's intuition because my mother was, in fact, laying in her bed unconscious with bacterial meningitis.

Two weeksand much trauma later, she's doing much better. She's convalescing in a nursing home nearby, and despite the many jokes about blue hair and gold digging for an older man, she's where she needs to be until she's strong enough to come here for a while.

Next time I say I'm having a challenging day, someone smack me across the head and remind not to tempt fate, because apparently someone up there doesn't have much of a sense of humor.

Coming back with a splash

2009-04-13T14:01:00.004-04:00

Although it could have been worse, today was just not my day. Yesterday I did 6 loads of laundry (and anyone who is thinking they could host pesach with two toddlers in the house and not do any laundry is welcome to come over and replace me, and hand me a plane ticket to somewhere nice and warm). Then today I did a couple more, in anticipation of the cleaning lady coming over this afternoon with her elves and magically folding everything and putting it away.

You know how sometimes you hear a big boom, and you say to yourself, I should really go see what that was. But the rest of you says, don't be such a worrywort, houses make noise, or maybe it's the drumming neighbors, or a truck outside.

Yeah, I should have gone to look.

That picture doesn't do justice to the situation, since there was detergent splattered on the walls, on the ceiling, under the 7 baskets of clean clothes (sinking in to the fabric baskets and the clean clothes), the clean hanging tzitzit and shabbat shirts, and the dry cleaning bag.

And just to add insult to injury, yesterday was the first time in months that I bought detergent that isn't clear. But tide was on sale, and as you see, we do a lot of laundry.

All I know is, I should have stuck to my guns and ordered more soap nuts instead. At least they don't make a mess if they spill.

Welcome back everyone. Thanks for your patience and persistence.

Formal Announcement:

2009-02-05T15:44:00.003-04:00

I have officially put away all the clothes in our bedroom.*

Feel free to applaud.

*not to be confused with all the boxes in our bedroom. Still three of those left.

A letter to G's teachers

2009-02-04T09:26:00.003-04:00

Today is picture day at Gavriel's school, and I enclosed the following letter to his teachers:

Dear Morah Heather and Morah Sara,

Good morning!

Don't look at me, it wasn't my idea. Gavriel decided he wanted his pictures done wearing a tux, and I couldn't come up with one good reason to say no. If nothing else, we can applaud his self-confidence and lack of self-esteem issues.

Please give him a hand when he needs to go to the bathroom; those suspenders can be a bit tricky. I'm also enclosing a spare outfit in case he decides to change after the pictures.

Thanks for understanding, and loving my little boy with his big imagination,

Yours,

Shana Lowell

I asked Gavriel what he would do if some of the kids teased him for being so fancy. He shrugged and said, doesn't bother me Ima, I'll just tell them it's what I wanted to do.

If only I could have half the self-esteem this child has, I'd be a much more confident mother and woman. Whoever said we learn much from our children was absolutely correct; we learn more than they will ever know.

PS. Yes, it's a low quality photo b/c it's from my new phone which is awesome but not a great camera. the alternative was a pic with my SLR but since I have yet to find an uplink cable since the move, I figured it was this or just keep you waiting even longer for blog updates. I took a chance this would be okay.

Burn Update

2009-01-20T00:10:00.001-04:00

I took in Ilan today to the burn center, as I do every couple of months. He is doing well. His mobility seems to be pretty even on both legs, thank god. He has been having some issues with rashes and terrible itching which he then tears open the grafted skin since we can't keep his hand away every instant during bathtime and diaper changes, but we do our best to keep his nails short, etc. So we discussed those issues and how to modify the care regimen to help with it. More special expensive creams, etc. But thankfully it's not that severe and will improve with time. There are more invasive ways to deal with the itching, but most aren't approved for babies and he's not that severe, so we'll treat with creams for now since it only really bothers him when he's naked. So we just never leave him naked basically except for bath.

The graft is doing well. The back part of it on his tush seems to be "maturing" according to them. That means it's settling in, fading in color, smoothing a bit, and not growing as much. This is a good thing, b/c part of the risk of grafts is that the skin overgrows the boundaries of the graft and becomes bigger and thicker than necessary. The hip part of the graft was always the deeper burn, and is still active. It's much thicker and pinker in that area, you can really see a difference between the two areas. That's also the part that is itching him, as the mature skin won't bother him as much. We have to keep using the pressure garment as long as any of the skin is active. And I know this to be true as well b/c we can for definitely see a difference in the skin if we leave off the garment even for a day or two. So we know it's still very active and changing.

The good news is we're getting there. The side effects of the garment (rash, annoyance, time, and unbelievable cost ) are minimal compared to the benefit he's getting from it. They told us originally that he'll probably need the garment for 18 months post burn. Right now he's 8 months post with a new garment. She said today that if this one can last a few months then we might be able to get away with only one more, which would cut the garment time by about 4 months or so- But I'm thinking he's gonna need another before 3 months since they make them so tight he outgrows them quickly. Every garment we get costs us a thousand dollars We got new insurance and it doesn't cover most of it. Which is total bullsh.it since if we didn't use it he would need surgery on it for sure at some point. As it is he might have surgery when he's an adult, but it would be mostly cosmetic, not functional. I hate the fact that insurance companies don't think in their own best interest. Or maybe they know we'll pay for it anyways so they just deny it. Grrrr.

But in any case- it's good news! If we get really lucky, maybe we'll be able to drop the garment before we go to Israel this summer. I don't think it'll happen, but that would be really REALLY nice since it's so hot there I don't think he would tolerate it very well. Regardless of when we drop it. We're getting there. I don't think the hip will ever look as good as the tush, but the tush part really does look good. So we're getting somewhere at least.

What can I say. He's a trooper. For all of the craziness and grey hair that child is going to cause me, only someone with that much spirit would be able to put up with that much crap. He puts up with so much, and he might drive me nuts sometimes, but that spirit sure does come in handy when you're down, doesn't it?

ps. Nadav is doing well with his burns too. Some discoloration but not textured scarring. Will update on him when I take him in a couple of months from now.

A peek inside...

2009-01-04T22:44:00.003-04:00

in to my life:
Many more to come. The picture was taken by my wonderful friend Esti who put up with our insanity at her house today.

Visiting Lake Wobegon

2008-12-28T18:56:00.005-04:00

We landed at Minneapolis-St. Paul international airport, and it didn't take very long for G to notice the difference.

Ima, it looks different from New Jersey.

You betcha it does. But I didn't think he'd notice so quickly. Definitely more snow on the ground, less cars, and shorter buildings. But also nicer people.

Don't get me wrong. There are some nice people in New Jersey. It's just that they are an anomaly, and here they are the norm. So the rental car attendant not only lifted my suitcase in to the trunk, but also crossed to the far end of the parking garage in the below freezing cold to bring me the car. And the elderly woman in the elevator in my grandfather's apartment building started telling me about cold remedies when she heard me sniffling.

Okay, that part was a little weird. I admit. But maybe I've just spent too much time on the East Coast lately. It was very nice of her after all.

So here we are. A quick two days in Minnesota to see Zayde. I just told Gavriel about Legoland at the Mall of America, and I have a feeling I'm going to have to peel him off the ceiling to take him to dinner with our family. Tomorrow we'll head off to that great center of commercialism and enjoy capitalism at it's finest. But for tonight we'll savor the 8th night of Chanuka with my grandfather, great aunt and uncle, and cousins.

After all, we are in the Land of Lakes. Where the women are all strong, the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.

Until tomorrow, happy chanuka and holidays to one and all.

This one, I'm sure is mine.

2008-12-21T01:05:00.003-04:00

Tonight Ari and I were in the kitchen organizing when Gavriel comes in to the room. He had been asleep for about an hour. He was all flushed from sleeping, and says to us in a tone of distress, AbbaIma, I'm too tired to keep playing.

You guessed it.

He was sleeping.

Ari said to him that he didn't have to play anymore, and he would take him back to bed.

G asked for a drink of water (very nicely, I might add), had the drink and went back to bed.

______________________________________

Three days ago we took G from his bed at 10pm to go pish on the toilet.

While he's standing in front of the toilet, Ari's encouraging him to pish and I'm giggling uncontrollably from the hallway at the little boy sleeping standing up. He wouldn't move, wouldn't open his eyes, and certainly wouldn't pish. Finally, Ari says to him, okay Gavriel, you can go back to bed. Without blinking an eye he says, Abba, can you make the frogs stop jumping?

______________________________________

For those who didn't know me or my mother as children, sleep walking, and sleep talking runs heavily in our family. In high school my brother Elie used to find me sitting up in bed having conversations with myself. And it certainly made quite the impression on my husband during our first week of marraige when he jumped up in the night not knowing whom I was talking to in our bedroom. I have been known to entertain my camp bunks as a child with my talking, but my mother, however, holds the record for most people woken, when she woke an entire dormitory with her screams one night. When we traveled to London when I was 12, we blocked off the balcony with furniture lest I take a little stroll over the shallow ledge. And sure enough my mother found me dressed and ready to go at 2am that night, sure that it was morning and time to explore.

Ah well, at least I know he's mine.

Moving Day!

2008-12-15T09:44:00.002-04:00

Movers in my house RIGHT NOW.

Computer is being packed soon, and I'll be heading offline for a while. Haven't had time to get internet at the new house quite yet. And toilet bars must take precedence.

It's like having a team of mice in my house. They're scurrying around REALLY quickly and packing everything in site.

Ari says not to worry unless they start singing and making me a ball gown.

Farewell folks, I'll see you on the other side!

My new best friend *

2008-12-11T21:47:00.010-04:00

*Not to denigrate the real one. She knows I still love her.

Let me introduce you to the Kindle.

The amazon.com kindle, that is.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000FI73MA/ref=amb_link_7645962_1/188-0750419-0546963?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0QS33JA578HVSBSPTWKA&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=464710631&pf_rd_i=507846

Now, before I go on, let me just say a few things.

1. I bought my kindle before it was such a huge deal, and got it for cheaper. Sorry bout that.

2. I bought my kindle before it was such a huge deal, and got it in 24 hours. Sorry again.

3. I bought my kindle with all my mother's day and birthday and "Shana has twins and is losing her mind" money. I'm sorry if that's not available to you.

4. You NEED to get one at some point. If not now, start a kindle fund and get one as soon as it's manageable. Besides the initial cost, this thing has actually saved us money because I don't really buy books or magazines anymore. And let me tell you, that is saying a LOT from a girl who goes through a few books a week. In my defense, we had like 20 bookcases in our living room growing up. It's in my genes.

The kindle. Ah, my dear sweet kindle.

What is a kindle, you ask? The kindle is an electronic book reader the size of a medium size slim paperback. Which is pretty freaking amazing for someone whose keys are often too heavy to shlep.

The kindle is connected to a wi-fi system (wireless for all you normal people out there), so you get entire books downloaded from amazon.com within about 30 seconds to a minute. No wires, no USB needed, no waiting for a book to arrive, no shlepping them and packing them in boxes when you move (ahem), no waiting for a hardcover to come out in paperback, and the best part is, the books are CHEAPER than the paper versions. No printing costs + no paper = big time discount. Bestsellers from the times are usually $10 instead of $25. Older books are cheaper than that, and always cheaper than the print version. Not every single book is available, but the library is growing by the day.

Some of the cool things about the kindle:

The screen is REALLY clear and extremely gentle on the eyes. I don't know how they did it, but in general I tend to get reading headaches from all print- onscreen and off, and somehow I don't get them from the kindle. I just don't get the eye strain that I usually struggle with. It also helps that you can increase the font size from tiny to large, depending on your eyesight or your whim. No bad printing, no thin paper, no tiny writing. I actually increased the font the other day when I was at the eye doctor and had my eyes dilated!

You can shop for books from the kindle itself, or online. In fact, you can shop for books before your kindle even arrives, and it'll be there the first time you turn it on.

Samples. You can download samples of books before purchasing. but we're not talking little two page samples. We're talking like 30 page samples, to really sink your teeth in to a book and decide if it's something you want to own.

If you have more than one Kindle on your account (limit is five), you can SHARE books. Yes, that means when my mother decides to stop single-handedly supporting Amtrak and actually use some of her hard earned money on herself, she can buy her kindle on my account and then we can both get copies of the books we purchase. So that means she gets my book club books, and old favorites that are so dog eared in real life I chose to replace them digitally, and I get her books about Andrew Jackson, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Henry the 8th. See? It's a win-win.

You can always delete the books and download them again from Amazon. It's saved on your account there. You can also read the books on your computer.

There are some other features, like audio book capability, but I haven't tried it yet. I have checked my email with the primitive web browser. It was fine, but the truth is, it's not a multi-purpose device. It's a electronic book reader and should be used primarily for that.

Oh, but it's not only books! Newspapers, magazines, blogs. It's all kindle friendly. Now for now it's black and white, and doesn't do pictures well, so the papers and magazines are pretty much articles only. But you can get the best papers in the country for pennies, so I'm not one to complain. And this is so cool. When you buy a kindle, you get a special kindle email address. You can actually be sent word documents to the kindle. So if I'm on the road and Ari wants me to read the latest draft of his application essay, I can do it on a normal size screen and actually give it some thought instead of him reading it to me over the phone.

There are some drawbacks. Actually, I only have a few, and they are pretty minor. The actual set has a few buttons placed in awkward positions. You get used to it, but it's annoying for a while. And I still press advance page by accident once in a while. But I'm pretty sure they're going to remedy this for the next version. And it's certainly harder to "flip" through the book, although you can advance by chapter. Finally, there's no back light on the kindle. It's just like a regular book. You need light in the room to read. They sell lights to attach to the handset, but I haven't tried on yet. I'm thinking maybe the lack of a back light is helping me with the eyestrain thing. Hard to know.

Oh, and you can't use it on shabbat. Kind of annoying when you're in the middle of something good. But lately I read the kindle by weekday, and my magazines on shabbat, and it's working very well. And, of course, the novels I won't let Ari throw out, even if I have copies on my kindle ;)

I do think that the kindle is best for avid readers, and especially those who like to re-read books. I'm a little crazy about my books. I've re-read some series dozens of times. Really. It's a little bit sick, but it's how I'm built. And it's genetic darn it! Seriously though, I LOVE having my favorites handy any time I'm stuck at a doctor's office, or early for carpool, or eating alone at a restaurant. No more stopping to pick up something at the store. It's all available on my kindle.

Finally, and I want to end with this. Oprah said it right a couple of months ago when she had amazon founder and kindle creator Jeff Bezos on her show. It's not longer what music you have on your ipod, but what books you have on your kindle. We are what we read. The written word both defines us and influences our thoughts and behavior. Given that I spend a good amount of time each day reading short articles online, it is a real pleasure to have returned to concrete literature. Literature that takes more than a minute or two to read, that awakens my intellect and challenges me to travel beyond the short news article, or the brief updates on facebook. I do not belittle these methods. I enjoy following my friends throughout the day, and truly honor the fact that the Internet has allowed me to stay abreast of news developments by the minute. But in this case, the wonderful world of the digital age has come full circle in returning me to books. It allows me to lose myself in a world that I once found home, and am happy to have returned to full force.

Almost forgot: dictionary, full wikipedia access, paper like screen with no glare or heat, and a keyboard for searching or taking notes and bookmarks. Need I say more? Start a kindle piggybank!

Update

2008-12-10T21:20:00.005-04:00

Nadavi did it again. That child is so dang cute. In honor of his cuteness and good behavior, he's getting a pic today.

Ilan and Gavriel have both woken up crying tonight. They are less cute.

At least the cute-factor resets every morning and we all get a clean slate. Our house is a Rousseau type world. Well, not exactly. But maybe just for that one small thing.

No, I have not been sleeping enough.

Oh, and um, we're moving in FIVE days. EEK!

Why I love having twins

2008-12-09T22:54:00.003-04:00

I love my kids. Of course I do. And it's not that I don't enjoy having three boys, but the experience of having two babies at once has been pretty overwhelming to say the least. I often wish that I could have each baby separately to enjoy them and interact with them the way I was able to care for Gavriel. And while I know there is much benefit to them learning to play together, share with each other, etc. there certainly are times I wish I had three singletons instead. On top of everything, Ilan and Nadav are polar opposites in many many ways, which adds a layer of complexity to the interaction.

There are select moments, however, when I feel particularly honored and privileged to be part of the unique club of parents raising twins.

Tonight was one of them.

We have bedtime down a pretty good routine. We all have dinner, bath and pj's, and Ari gives Ilan his nebulizer treatment while I take Gavriel upstairs for books, shema, and tucking in. It works very well, except that Nadav sometimes slips through the cracks. Since I'm upstairs, and Ari's hands are occupied, he either has to be put in his crib before Ari starts, or he can play in the living room and go in with Ilan after he's done. But he's a child who loves to sleep, and he often can't last until Ari finishes. The last few nights I've put him in the crib when I come down from G, while Ari is still with Ilan. But lately that hasn't been working, and he's been crying from the crib even though he's exhausted. We didn't really know why he's been crying, since he's clearly ready to sleep.

Tonight I came down to find Ari still holding Ilan and Nadav at his feet whining for bed, or so we thought. So I asked him if he was ready for shluffy, and he shook his head no. Don't laugh, all you skeptics out there. This child usually walks himself to bed and stands below the crib wanting to be put in. It's not normal, I tell you. But that's another entry for another day. But anyways, he shook his head no, and continued to whine.

So I asked him if he wanted his pacifier and lovey. At which point he perked up and I went to get them. He took them happily, and then I held out my hand and said, okay, shluffy time, but he still shook his head no, and went to sit on the stoop in our living room. I handed him a book and proceeded to clean up the toys.

He sat, quietly, patiently, watching Ari and Ilan, reading his book, and waiting.

Finally Ari finished, and stood up holding Ilan, and said, okay Nadav, time for bed. Nadav got up right away, dimples flashing, and headed for the bedroom. He giggled with joy, and stopped several times to wave me good night, showing me that he was getting exactly what he wanted.

His brother.

He's been asleep for three hours and not a peep from him.

It may not be easy, it may be frustrating, and exhausting, and even overwhelming at times. But cliche aside, things like this really do make it worthwhile. I always wanted a twin when I was a little girl. Never got one of course, but always wanted one. I have so much joy in knowing that even if I couldn't have one, my children will always have each other.

How fortunate we are to be raising best friends.

Overheard in the Lowell home...

2008-12-09T22:44:00.003-04:00

Gavriel:

bawk! bawk! bawk!

(continues n a sing-song voice)

I have no idea why I'm talking like a bird!

Ilan (everything said at the top of his lungs):

cheese! (while running towards me when I take out the camera)
Eeon! Eeon! (Ilan! Ilan!)
Gah! Gah! (Gavriel)
a-done (all done)
mo (more)
bah (blanket/lovey)

Nadav:

cheese!
madha eorwhsnqa dorjgiwjmjdne dknwiahd f ejn,n feknmn d skdnkfnsfsne (complete conversations while speaking in Davi-speak)

Ari:
Oh my God! How did they do that!? (said in shock when discovering both twins running toward the street when he looked away for under ten seconds)

WAHM shout out

2008-12-05T13:47:00.016-04:00

I have decided that from time to time I will feature some of my favorite things on the blog. Ari says that I'm a baby gear freak, and generally kindly mocks my at times rather obscure finds, but at the same time of course enjoys the benefits of them. I'm not sure it's a baby gear obsession per say, but more a determination to find cool things that improve our quality of life. Like my pot filler in my new kitchen, or say, our Go Go Kidz car seat cart for when we fly. It's the little things, you see, that make shlepping through life just a little bit easier. I also have to admit that I get a little thrill of seeing the objects I discovered while they were new and rare find themselves in the mainstream where they make people as happy as me.

See? It's not that I'm a freak, I'm just a personal shopper of sorts. And no, I don't get any commission. This is all done out of my need to share my happy things with the world.

For my first item, I'm going to delve in to the world of WAHMs.

WA what, you say?

Work At Home Mother. Not that it's an accurate term, since all mothers and fathers I know work tirelessly at home without being paid, but nevertheless, it is the term that has been given to mothers who have at home businesses that allow them to stay home with their children rather than going out of the home to work.

Now, I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to run a business while watching children. So regardless of what the items are, these individuals already have my utmost respect. But over the past few years, WAHM businesses have flourished and found a real niche in Internet commerce. There are entire websites devoted to gathering these entrepreneurs together and helping them sell their products. The item I want to feature is from a mom with her own website, http://www.momufactured.com/

This site is run by a friend of mine, Holly. She is a wonderful mother of two handsome boys from Montana who homeschools, and somehow also finds the time to make a variety of beautiful crafts. She sells them at craft shows and online. Last month I purchased the coolest thing from her. Well, to be fair I purchased two. Yes, things in our home seem to come in twos these days.

I purchased a special fleece blanket called the saavy swaddler, and these things are COOL. You see, the twins are 17 months old now, and I have them in one piece fleeces (another post) for the winter. The fleeces are warm, but not enough for heavy winter, but they can't be in something heavier in the car because it's not safe for the car seat straps. The swaddlers are blankets that snap on and fasten over the child so they can stay warm and snuggly without compromising their safety. They have multiple snaps, and are versatile enough that you can leave the hands out, hands in, tucked in a car, stroller, shopping cart, or even a back carrier. We used these on a recent trip to Maryland, where we visited an outdoor craft show and it was invaluable in keeping the kids warm while not having lost and dirty blankets from being kicked off while strolling around. We couldn't believe how long the children lasted at the show. We had one in a stroller all tucked in and one in a back carrier with the swaddler tied around the baby and Ari and it was just awesome.

Holly makes these in a variety of fabrics, and ships in super fast time. We got these in just a couple of days. I'm actually thinking of asking her to custom make one for Gavriel in a longer size because he keeps asking for a snuggly blanket in the car for frigid mornings.

Did I mention she has a whole website? Lots of other stuff like reusable trash bags, cloth diapers, baby clothes, etc. It's worth taking a look if you're buying holiday presents around now. I've been trying to stay away so my husband doesn't leave me. He gets a little nervous when packages come to the door ever since I began scrapbooking. But when things like this come, even he has to admit that my little bit of craziness sometimes pays off.

PS. Poor Holly. I only told her tonight that I'd be posting this, so she didn't have time to fix the page on her site with this item, but she's going to update it asap. And you can take a look around the main site in the meantime. :)

Baruch Dayan HaEmet.

2008-12-02T21:48:00.004-04:00

I know that ours is not to question why. But when I saw this photo of little Moshe Holtzberg crying for his mother at their memorial service today, I couldn't help but wonder, will it ever end? The battle, the murder, to determination to rise above, and then the crushing blows that bring us so very very low.

You see, he is crying for his parents while they are being mourned by thousands. And as if their families hadn't suffered enough, Rivka's father revealed today that she was also 5 months pregnant.

And he isn't an only child. The Holzberg's lost a child several years ago to Tay Sachs, and another child is in an israeli hospital suffering from the same fatal disease.

I don't pretend to understand. I can't even try. I think for tonight I'll just hug my children tight, thank God for health and safety, and a temporary reprieve from the madness of the world.

Now all poor Moshe has from the life he remembers is the nanny that saved him.

It's Official.

2008-12-01T00:00:00.007-04:00

No, not Hillary being secratary of state, not our impending move, but we have TWO, yes, TWO walkers in my house!

Okay, I'm cheating a bit. Gavriel has been walking for several years. So has my husband and myself. But you get my drift.

Yep, it's official- Nadavi is walking. One day before he hit 17 months. Which was a very close call, since Ari threatened to kick out any non-walking babies on their 17 month birthday.

Oh, and he's so cute. The child has given up both of his daily naps so he won't miss a moment of toddling around giggling and just being generally delighted with himself. Pics and video to follow soon.

That is, if they don't destroy my laptop and camera first. Unfortunately, with the joys of mobility has come an increased awareness of all that is located within reach, and the twins joint RDT (room destruction time) has averaged about 10 minutes this weekend.

No seriously. Ten minutes to trash a room. And I mean trash. Then they move on to the next room.

But since it's 11pm and i'm safe in the cocoon of my bedroom, and ignoring the state of my living room, let's just all celebrate mobility and cheer- YAY!!!! He's FINALLY WALKING!!!!!

ps. A huge huge shout out to Bubby who was a hero all weekend long and gave both me and hubby several mornings of sleeping in. When G started crying for you tonight I joined in right along with him.

The way we roll...

2008-11-17T21:53:00.007-04:00

Everyone is a little healthier. Nadavi thank God has decided that life is worth living. Ilan is still sick but getting there, and the rest of us are working on regaining some semblance of health. Okay, maybe not quite, but a girl's gotta stay positive, right?

We've had a tough month physically, but are trying very hard to keep our spirits up. Ilan's strutting around the house makes us laugh every day. Nadav is as sweet as ever and it's nice to see the dimples return. Yesterday I saw him in the play kitchen using a wisk in a mini stock pot. Ilan of course was banging himself on the head with a frying pan.

I don't even think I need to analyze that one.

Gavriel. Let's see. I went to Gavriel's parent teacher conference yesterday, and both teachers had glowing praise for him. He is doing well academically, and his Hebrew teacher said that his midot are impeccable (her words). Yes, he's sensitive, but she sees it manifest in a very positive way in her classroom in terms of his kindness towards the other students. I was shepping nachas and thought you would too.

This has no impact, however, on the fact that today his behavior was so atrocious I wanted to grab my kindle*, run out of the house and never come back. Impeccable my tushy.

Just another week in the crack house folks. But it's our crack house and we like it.

*coming soon. my new best friend.

Cough cough hack hack

2008-11-12T21:04:00.003-04:00

Warning: sick bitchy post ahead. Scroll down if you want something more upbeat.

Someone send chicken soup, and arms to hold Nadavi.

This week we are personally supporting the pharmaceutical industry with asthma medications, antibiotics, and fever reducers. We are hacking, coughing, sweating, and shivering. I don't dare go to the new house because I'd be sure to collapse in a spectacular asthma attack on my newly refinished floors.

And can I just say, I HATE sick babies. HATE HATE HATE. Especially babies who can't handle feeling ill. I know that sounds uncharitable and mean, but we're getting desperate.

When Gavriel was a baby and would be sick, he'd watch movies for hours on end, snuggle with us, and sleep a lot. Ilan is used to feeling sick from his asthma, so he kvetches a little, but is willing to play, eat and sleep. He's hacking more, and needs more entertaining, but does well for the most part.

But Nadav. Ah, my cute, adorable, lovable Nadav. Nadav is a BEAST when he's sick. He's used to being healthy, so when he feels sick, he is the BIGGEST BABY. He won't eat. Won't sleep. Won't play. Won't watch baby einstein. All he wants is to be held on our Lazy-boy with his pacifier, lovey, and a snuggly blanket. It's cute for a while. Even for a long while. but it is NOT cute when it's going on day 5 and he still just wants to sit there all day long.

I know, I know, I should enjoy it while it lasts. After all, he won't always want to snuggle with me for hours on end. But I'm sitting there in the recliner watching the hours go by and thinking, I could be packing up that bookcase... I could be calling movers... I could be going through all those toys... Man my nose itches... Think he'll let me read a book?... All this going on, and he doesn't even twitch. Nada. Not a single movement. But try to put him down, and the world is ENDING.

Okay. Enough complaining. But I had to put it out there for all those wondering why we haven't moved yet. I couldn't because I spent my days this week on the brown Lazy-boy.

Hey, it could be worse. :)

Making History

2008-11-10T01:44:00.006-04:00

How do you explain the color red to a blind man?

You can't. You can try to describe the strength of it, the shape and quality of it, but you can't explain color to one who has never seen.

How do you explain race and gender inequality to a child who doesn't see color or sex as anything but an inconsequential difference in how God created each of us?

What a blessing to not see what most adults see. To not be able to even consider a difference in the value of human beings. But blindness that can also be a drawback, you see. Because if you can't see a difference, you also can't appreciate having overcome that bias.

We took Gavriel to the polls last Tuesday. As we walked along, he drilled us on who we were voting for, and of course wanted to make sure we'd vote for the winner. And I tried to explain color to a blind man. I explained the historic nature of this election. I explained the women's movement, the civil rights movement, and the fact that regardless of who took office in January, we would all win. With a woman and a black man on opposing tickets, I explained, no matter what, we were making history. Both parties had risen above and taken the first step towards healing a great injustice.

So we took him to the polls with us. We took a picture of him holding the sample ballot. And I did my best to explain. But I don't think he got it at all. Someone won, and someone lost, and we have a new president.

Maybe if it works out I will take him to the inauguration. Or at least we'll watch on television. And I'm sure he won't understand then, other than seeing a new president start his job. But somehow I'm determined to have him witness this stage in our history, because one day he will understand. He will read in the history books that in it's youth, the USA had discrimination. We had color, and we had gender. But on November 4th, 2008 the people stood up and declared that they wanted to rise above. Not as blind people who do not see a difference, but as seeing men and women who saw the difference and chose to declare that it is inconsequential.

It's not all gone. There are issues of class and orientation, religion and region. And remaining issues of color and gender. Some days I feel like we take two steps forward and one step back. But that is one step forward that will never be reversed. And one day, when my son learns that some discrimination still exists, perhaps he will be of the generation who is able to eradicate it completely.

Until then, I will make sure that he is a witness. Albeit a child, but a young man who will one day grow up, and say, I remember, I was there the day the country spoke up and said we are better than our forefathers; we can fix our wrongdoings and be a better nation.

So flattered!

2008-11-07T16:37:00.001-04:00

I just added a traffic feed on to my blog. I always assume there's almost no traffic, with a couple people checking in once in a while. I'm so amazed to have more than that just from last night! Now I feel like I need to post more. And I'm SO flattered!

Fyi- it's not exact. I'm the "Roselle, NJ" location, and that's at least 10 minutes and about 6 towns from my house.

Shabbat Shalom everyone!

Look who's walking!!! (Ilan)

2008-11-02T20:50:00.001-04:00

Giving back

2008-11-01T20:21:00.007-04:00

First things first. I'm whispering it over the blogging world, and don't want to jinx anything, but I think it's safe to say that Ilan is walking !!!!!! EEEK!!!! He doesn't do it if he's in a rush, or really tired, but he's totally doing it when just playing in the living room or the kitchen. The child is so freaking determined. He walks and falls, walks and falls. Walks and falls. He's covered in bumps and bruises, but is so proud of himself. WE ARE TOO!!!! I promise to post video of the big event soon! Nadav isn't there yet, but he's watching very carefully, and i'm sure it'll come soon. Thank GOD!

Now for the main topic of my post. Giving back.

When the twins were in the burn accident we were sent two designer teddy bears from the agency of the nanny who dropped the burning sugar on them. I was feeling very angry, resentful, and sad, and just put them away in the box and didn't think about them for a long time. I didn't really want anything that would remind us of the agency or the nanny who caused my babies so much pain. Over the summer Ari and I went to Vermont on a vacation, and we happened to be near the company that made the bears, and took a tour of their factory. http://www.vermontteddybear.com/ It was such a warm and happy place, and I returned home determined to find those bears a better home. I contacted the company and asked them if they would exchange the bears for another set for our twins. Ones that wouldn't remind me of the accident.

The company wrote back, and said they'd be happy to exchange the bears for us. I responded asking them to switch them for their hero bears. I was inspired when I saw these bears at their factory, and decided that these were the bears to help turn this in to a positive experience for us. http://www.friendforlife.org/index.php The bears are special hero bears, and a duplicate bear is donated to various agencies who help children in distress.

So I asked them to send us two of those instead, and donate the duplicates to the Burn Recovery Center at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown. They have been wonderful, and continue to provide top notch care for Ilan and Nadav.

Two weeks ago, before we returned the original bears, we got a box. With SIX hero bears inside. And a personal note written to us telling us how happy they were to send them to us, and with a label to return the two original bears, and asking where to send the SIX duplicate bears. We were floored, and just amazed at this company with so much heart. Six of them will go to Lehigh Valley. We kept three of them for the boys, gave one to my mother who requested one, and still had two left. So I suggested to Gavriel that we take them down to the local firehouse. After all, they are rescue bears and could have a good home there making other kids feel better.

So we took them over. They were SO wonderful to Gavriel, and I was so grateful to them for making a big deal over him. I think the accident affected him more than we all realize. He doesn't talk about it very much. But once in a while he asks questions about it. And his rescue bear is sleeping on top of his covers, so that if he needs to go for help, he won't get stuck under the blankets and can get out quickly.

The men over at the Hillside Fire Department all shook his hand and thanked him for the donation. The fire inspector gave him a half hour full tour of the rescue ambulance and the fire truck, and they found a good home for the bears in the ambulance. And the chief named the bears G1 and G2 in honor of Gavriel.

Sometimes it's the big things, and sometimes it's the little things. But what started with our wanting to give back a little turned in to those brave men giving him a very big gift.

And most of all, to the Vermont Teddy Bear Company. Whose generosity extends beyond the boundaries of a normal business, and far in to the realm of loving life and giving to others.

Here are a few pictures. Sorry I don't have better ones, but I was pretty wrapped up in what was happening instead of getting the perfect picture.

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AYuW7Vw0YtGaE&emid=sharshar&linkid=link5

ps. I have no idea why, but blogger isn't letting me put spaces between my paragraghs tonight. Sorry.

Overheard in the Lowell home (or nearby)

2008-10-05T23:58:00.007-04:00

Gavriel tiptoes in to our bedroom at an ungodly hour. He goes over to wake Ari because he knows who is the pushover and who is the hard-a$$ and wouldn't risk approaching the HA unless it was critical.

Gavriel: Abba, wake up!!!

Ari: No Gavriel, it's too early.

HA: grrrrrrrr....

G: No Abba, get up and give me attention.

Ari: Okay Gavriel, let's pretend to sleep. Let's pretend we are sleeping animals and you can guess what animal I am.

Ari returns to snoring...

A bear Abba? A tapir? A snake? A dog? A cat? A red eyed tree frog? A 3 toed sloth? An elephant?

HA starts snorting in her bed, realizing this could go on for a very long time...

Finally G has a turn and pretends to snore. Ari guesses all possible animals and then asks for a hint.

G: Abba, I'm a bear!

Ari: but gavriel I guessed "bear"

G : right abba, but I'm a sleeping bear. My turn again!

HA: snort giggle giggle

--------------------------------------------------------

Driving along in the car listening to the monologue....

Hey Ima, next year i'll be in first grade. That is VERY big. And you know what? Then you can buy me more super hero toys! And Ima, i'm not going to play with the guns. I'll put them in my pocket, and only use them if I really have to. And only against bad guys. okay ima? And Ima, right the storm didn't knock down our house? that's because it's made out of bricks. Just like in the three little pigs. Ima, it's a good thing we weren't lazy and build it from straw. Hey Ima, when i'm big, you can buy me a sports car. A convertible. And it should have a siren. Wouldn't that be fun? Because then we could go through all the lights, and not have to stop and not have to be bored when we stop. And hey ima, you know how we have those pasta wheels? it's like running a flat tire when it goes on the side when on the plate. we can take it to the mechanic and they can fix it and it'll be as good as new. Hey Ima, i'm going to gymnastics today, and you should get me a treat because i'm very brave and will hang from the bars. that's scary for me but i'm going to try. but i'm not going to go on the rings, because that's VERY scary, and i don't want to. maybe when i'm big. and then i'll be on a team and get a trophy. maybe then. Hey ima, can we put on 1010wins? it's very important to listen to 1010wins to know what traffic is. and maybe we have to take a shortcut to get to the Y because what if there's traffic in the tunnel? Ima, I think we should always listen to 1010wins. Hey Ima? what's economy? What are they talking about? They have to be quiet so the traffic can come on. And hey Ima?.......

And you all wonder why I don't post very much anymore. Between the house being torn apart and my brain exploding from monologuing it's amazing I can even find the laptop at all. Let alone be able to read or write a coherent sentence. I think you should be very impressed.

Will try to add more stories and pictures soon. In the meantime, thanks for stopping by, my loyal and patient friends. And a very happy and healthy new year to each of you! Bezrat Hashem s'yimal'u kol mishalot libchem to tova u'lvbracha.

They're getting taller.

2008-10-05T23:44:00.003-04:00

Doesn't seem very significant.

But consider, if you will, the difference between a child who can just reach the edge of the dining room table and one who can reach up and pull down plates, knives, toys previously thought to be safe by the older brother, etc.

It's a big deal. And every day our home become more wrecked with the whirlwind that is not one but two toddlers.

One day the picture frame on the window sill is safe, the next day it's laying on the floor in 4 different pieces, with each twin holding half and giggling.

They conspire together you see. They babble to each other and somehow work together to accomplish more than Gavriel ever did at this age. The Tower of Babel failed from lack of communication, but somehow it doesn't stop these guys for a second. It's the source of the term twinproofing, and other than a padded cell, I don't think there's any solution.

Today I spotted them sitting with a stack of mini plastic cups that we use for kiddush. They had about ten of them and were sitting there passing them back and forth to one another. It was very cute, and one of those awww moments about twins. Until it occured to me to wonder where they got the cups from, and I entered the kitchen only to see the rest of the contents of the paper goods cart laying in tatters on the floor.

The sucky thing, of course, is that we're getting the hard part of them growing up, but not the benefits because they aren't walking. No apple picking today because we couldn't have two babies crawling through the orchard eating rotten apples on the floor. And no visiting the zoo, because face it, it's not much fun when you're 15 months old and want to get out and play but the only option is crawling on concrete looking at other people's feet.

In a random twist of fate, Ari reminded me that Gavriel actually stood up and walked one day at 15 months when he burnt his hand on the un-child-proofable faucet in our apartment in Israel. It hurt to crawl so he stood up and walked. And that was that. No toddling or practicing. He just upped and walked.

Clearly that isn't an option, and God knows we've had enough burns in this family for a lifetime. So I guess we'll just have to continue moving things higher and higher. And do our best to wait patiently for the real trouble to begin.

Absence makes the heart...

2008-09-07T21:54:00.003-04:00

grow fonder.

Yesterday I had no patience for parenting. Actually, I was okay with cranky babies. But the mouth on my newly minted five year old just did me in. It was one of those days that I was thinking I am in no way equipped to be a parent. At least not to a child who can talk back. And yet, by the grace of God, bedtime came, and throughout the house an audible sigh of relief could be heard; by myself and by my dedicated and understanding husband who hasn't given up on me yet.

And then morning came, and my strength had returned. And the trace of humor that I try so very hard to accompany me throughout my day had crept back. I greeted the little one with a smile and a hug, and didn't complain when he lept on to my aching back. And for yet another morning I thanked Hashem for giving me the blessing of renewal. To be able to rest in a bed and wake up with renewed energy, renewed patience, and renewed love.

Of course it helped that 25 minutes later I left the house for a train to D.C. By myself. Maybe knowing I was about to be responsibility-free helped get me up with a smile. But I'd like to think that it was more the distance of those 10 hours that let me recharge and renew.

After all, even on our worst days, bedtime eventually comes, and we are granted the gift of separation, so that when morning comes, we can begin again the challenges of parenting when we so often still feel like children ourselves.

ps. huge enormous shout-out to my husband who is taking care of the children this week while I'm down in D.C. He spent all day with the three boys and still managed to send me little funny notes and pictures along the way. And somehow he still doesn't lose his mind. I guess God knows at least one parents needs a few marbles.

the boys of summer*

2008-09-01T18:20:00.007-04:00

*and other summer pics.

In no particular order...

Pre-haircut, post haircut, on vacation in vermont, and at the lake. It's been hectic as always, but a great summer. Next pictures will include Gavriel's birthday and first day of school, coming in less than two days!

Almost Forgot

2008-08-11T00:00:00.002-04:00

Don't we clean up nice?

Musings and Pictures of Summer

2008-08-09T23:06:00.006-04:00

Gavriel:

Abba, we discussed this. Please don't joke when we're talking.

As if there's any hope of that one happening.

Ima, i'm looking forward to going to Elazar's house tomorrow.

When the heck did I get a kid who can speak like a ten year old? Not clear. I really am not sure who taught him how to speak, but some things just shock the heck out of me.

Overheard at dinner time with Abba and Ima.
Gavriel: Abba, Ima, I want to have two names. Why don't I have two?
Dumbfounded parents: Um Gavriel, you have two names. Actually you have three- Gavriel Simcha Lowell.
G: No Abba, no Ima, I want a Hebrew and an English name.
DP: Um. Gavriel. Your names are the same in Hebrew and in English. Gavriel is your name Hebrew and English.

G: But but, I want TWO. Like Jacob. His name is Jacob AND Yaakov. Abba, how come I can't have two?

DP: Blink. Blink.

Nadav:

What can I say about the kid? He delights us every day with his dimples and his endless ability and desire to cuddle. He is a snuggly snuggly boy, and we are flashed those dimples all day long. He has started to walk a bit while holding on to one adult hand, but sometimes gets stopped because he stops to applaud himself and say "yay!", which usually causes him to sit down. There's also his intense need and desire to sleep. He LOVES to sleep. Loves to nap, loves to sleep at night, and gets really irritable when Ilan wakes him too early in the morning. But if he does get his sleep, he always wakes up with giggles and smiles. The best is when he crawls to his room and whines by his crib to get in and go to sleep. It's not normal, I tell ya. But it is pretty cool :)

He gets bullied a little bit by Ilan, but is learning to fight back. Not that I'm a huge fan of the fighting, but it's nice to know he can fend for himself sometimes. They desperately want to play next to one another, but it's like an endless playdate that never ends and every playdate needs a break on occasion. But it's a love hate relationship, and they generally try to wake up each other so as not to miss out on their brothers' company. Now THAT is cute.

Oh, and on Friday I could have sworn he started calling himself Dada. Sounds the same as Nadav, but wasn't that close. But I knew for sure when this morning he was in the car seat, and I was discussing him with my mother while driving, and then I started hearing da...dav na...dav naaa daav. Nadav.

13 months old folks. And my mother heard it and can attest to the fact that I'm not just a bragging mother. Oh, and he generally says it when he's waiting for food. As in, bring Nadav food NOW. Somehow not suprising since both of the twins devour the kitchen daily.

Ilan:

Ilani katani. My middle child. Only by a minute, and yet he is the one. The one who's going to turn my hair grey. I don't know whether it's in the eyes, or the crazy Albert Einstein hair, or the fact that in the last years he's been to the ER more times than the rest of the family in the past 6 years. It's just something in the blood, I guess. Many times when I bring out the camera, he looks very suspicious in all the shots, but oh, when he does smile, his whole face lights up. It's just hard to catch it. He's entering in to toddlerhood with full force, and biting and hair pulling with the best of them. But this morning I noticed he's also learning 'no' thank God, so I have hopes of Nadav surviving the year with some of his hair intact.

He doesn't need quite as much sleep as Nadav, and has a harder time waking up, but he's just as serious about his food. He is a maniac when it comes to eating chicken. He will eat as much as we can give him. That's a LOT of chicken. He's our wild child who loves being tossed in the air by Abba, or thrown upside down. Just don't tell Bubby.

He can say both Abba and Ima, and chooses which one to call very carefully. If Abba is changing him on the changing table, then he calls for Ima. And today driving home from the city I heard Ima, Ima, Ima from the back at which point he gave up and started calling Abba.

In some ways he's all about serious exploration when he plays. He loves to use the push walker, and loves to sneak away to climb up the stairs (okay, Davi does the same thing. it's cute. until you realize you don't have enough arms to stop both of them at once.) But he also loves playing in the pretend kitchen we have set up in our kitchen. He crawls around the house with miniature mixing spoons, and the other day we caught him trying to load a mini frying pan in to the real dishwasher. With Nadav in the background giggling because he knew it was funny. But Ilan was dead serious and intent on putting it in.

He is incredibly determined to do whatever he sets out to do. He doesn't necessarily think out the best way to do it, but he tries and tries and tries to accomplish it. Hence the headache I have from him banging shut the door of the pretend kitchen with the frying pan stuck in the door.

Ilan struggles with more illness than his brothers, and is behind a little bit physically from the burn accident, but some days I think this is why Hashem gave him such a strong spirit. A lesser child wouldn't have stood a chance. Yet here he is fighting every day, with a glint in his eye, and a strong voice, determind to push through whatever and whoever stands in his way.

And there you have it folks. My three little men.

Oh, and the big man in the house is doing okay too. Just as cute, just bigger.

What a difference a year makes.

2008-06-25T22:41:00.005-04:00

Here we are.

An entire year later, and I just sit and stare off in to space, and think about the essence of time. How it flies, and how it drags. How something can seem endless when in the midst of it, but then be a fleeting memory when looked back upon.

The boys are good. Nadav is back to himself, Ilan is getting there, and Gavriel is a proud primer-bound (5 year old K) camper at the Y. Ari and I celebrated our 6th anniversary this week, and life goes on.

Here are some snapshots of our boys from this year. A year ago tonight I was packing my diaper bag, waiting for our flight the following day, and pacing the hallways. Little did I know what June 26th would bring for us. It was supposed to be a travel day. In the end it was a travel day, but not only for us, and would end with us in a NICU room, surrounded by our two new sons.

I will try to create a shutterfly album with the years best photos, but i'll wait until their birthday tomorrow. Gotta have the traditional sugar snapshots. But since it's getting late and i'm getting nostalgic, here are some of my best.

3am, holding Ilan for the first time, about 3 minutes after we arrived in Cape Girardeau. My mother and Ari thought I was going to get a ticket for sure, given the speed that I was doing from St. Louis to Cape. We weren't stopped. I KNEW God is on my side sometimes ;)

IlanNadav

Holding both babies together for the first time. Nadav (on right) was still in the NICU at the time. Oh my God! There are two of them!
Jen with Ilan at discharge.

Jenn's awesome daughter with the babes.

Oh, who am I kidding. I want to share all of these, and it's 11pm, and I haven't even gotten out of Missouri! It will have to suffice for tonight, more to come soon, to be followed by pics of general gluttony, sprinkles, and frosting.

PS. a quick peek at when we arrived home. To be expanded soon.

Twins Update

2008-06-19T00:44:00.002-04:00

Had a marathon appointment today at the Burn Center in Allentown. They continue to be great there, although the visits are certainly overwhelming as well.

Here's the update. And before I go on, I just want to mention that my not so little ones will be ONE in a week. EEK!

Okay, moving on. I'll do Nadav first because he's faster.

Nadav's burns have healed really nicely. He is no longer in bandages, thank God. He has pink spots anywhere he had a burn, which is the new skin which has grown in place. The pink spots need to be protected from suntanning for an entire YEAR or more. We've been told repeatedly that if his arm or hand tans, those spots will brown, and never fade to match his normal skin. And because it's new skin it's much more likely to tan in the first place. So on a daily basis he's wearing sunscreen and a baby leg (legwarmer), and i've ordered him a bunch of long sleeve SPF protected shirts for when he's outside, which will be the new style on Wilder Street, apparently. He also has special moisturizer during the day, and a special Sacylic Acid cream at night to help the new skin heal and fade to his normal skin tone (Ilan is having these too). Besides that, he's really back to normal, and in a super cute phase and just really fun and giggly. Thank God for small (and big) favors.

Ilan is another story altogether. The graft continues to adhere and heal. As of today we are cleared for bandages for him as well, thank God. The skin always needs to be covered, just not in the sterile bandages which were ripping his surrounding skin. The burn on his calf that was cut out is doing okay. He had a lot of stitches there, and it's not totally smooth, but they tell me this will be better with time and pressure from a garment he's getting (more on that later). The graft itself is doing okay. I'm grateful that it worked, but to a lay person like me it looks terrible. Deep dark purpley red, bumpy, dry and uneven, etc. They have mixed feelings about how it is healing. It's certainly adhered, which is good, for it lowers his pain level, and also his risk of infection. But the problems are threefold: 1. he seems to have a hyper sensitive reaction to the nerve damage there, 2. grafted skin just doesn't stretch like regular skin, and gets tighter and tighter whereas he's going to get bigger and bigger. and 3. not only will he grow, the graft is on his hip/butt which is a very important joint area, where one needs full flexibility. Here's how they're addressing each problem. 1. hypersensitivity. Unfortunately, my child seems to have inherited my extreme pain sensitivity :( The other end of the spectrum would have been a decreased pain level there, which I feel would have been so much better for his sake. He is no longer having terrible pain, but he absolutely will not let us put him in water, and he used to love it. He cries when we try, and clings to us for dear life :( He's also not willing to sit down once he's pulled up to standing/cruising. He refuses and just gets stuck and cries, even though he knows how to do it. It must hurt, or remind him of when it did hurt. They told us that when this happens, they need to desensitize the area, because otherwise he won't tolerate the necessary massages, and also the pressure garment he's getting soon. And will also hold the area stiffer, which is already happening, which then makes the graft tighter, etc. It's a vicious cycle. So they taught us how to do some desensitization at diaper changes (basically rubbing the area with increasingly harsh things, starting from very soft to harsher, assuming I can hog tie him long enough to do this, ha ha). And they are sending us to occupational therapy 3x a week to have them do this for him as well. Sigh.

Issue 2 and 3 is the tightness of the graft and especially given it's joint location. Massage is essential, and they gave us instruction to do it each diaper change (again, hog tieing), and also the OT will move his legs even more than crawling down, which should help keep the skin moving and softer as it sets. They're trying hard to avoid getting in to a bad situation when it's too late to fix it, and are doing what they can to prevent it. I wish he was walking already, and I very much hope this doesn't slow him down too much more than it already has.

In terms of scarring, it's an unknown, but while they're doing what they can, they also seem to think it's inevitable that there will be significant scarring, although much of it will be covered by underwear. Either one day he'll learn to live with it, or have plastic surgery. We'll wait and see on that one.

So the good news is, it worked. The bad news is, it's not at all over by a long shot. I just want my baby back. He's just not himself in personality. I know it'll take time, but it's been several weeks, and seeing the change in him is so sad. :cry: I'm now dreading the next 18 months. And I hate that.

Oh, the pressure garment. Ilan will be getting a pressure garment that will go from waist to ankle to help encourage the new skin to stay smoother and in place. It's supposed to be as tight to the skin as possible, but because it's in his diaper area, the whole burn team is working on a plan of several under layers of bandages to help this along. But he's going to have these special pants custom made. They measured him today for it. They are TIGHT apparently. No idea how we'll get it on and off each diaper, but we'll deal with that when it arrives in 3 weeks. He's going to need to wear the pressure garment for 23 hours a day, for 12-18 months. More likely 18 since he's so little and baby skin takes longer to settle.

It's late and I should go to bed. Thanks to everyone for the continued support, prayers, and love. God knows we still need them.

That's all the news from Lake Wobegone. My next post will be about G and his "birthday" Much more uplifting, I promise.

I was wrong.

2008-06-05T20:27:00.003-04:00

My heart isn't in the east.

It's right next door, torn at the doorstep to the nursery.

Shredded to pieces along with all the gauze. The ointments, the staples, the skin grafts. The hospital crib. The IV. The blisters, the pain.

Every day since the accident I have been strong. As if just the slightest crack in my armor would cause the world to fall. I change bandages better than the visiting nurse. I rock them, and comfort them, and tell them everything will be okay. I administer meds, answer questions for Gavriel. I laugh at the funny crawling. Order UV protected clothing. I do everything i'm supposed to do.

They're going to be okay. The graft is taking. There will be scars. But their legs will work. Their hands will work. It could have been so much worse.

They're going to be fine.

But somehow I can't manage to put my heart back together.

Libi B'mizrach....

2008-05-08T21:55:00.004-04:00

V'anochi B'sof Hamaarav.

As they say, my heart is in the east, and I am at the far end of the west.

It's a hard week. I don't know whether native israelis have more grit than I, or maybe because I didn't grow up with it, but I have never been good at the transition from Yom Hazikaron to Yom Haatzmaut. Once upon a time it was easier to handle. Nice little solemn ceremony and then a segway to much dancing and celebration. Things were easier when I was more naive, a romantic, and a die hard Bnei Akiva girl in high school. But then I moved to Israel and Yom Hazikaron began to have actual faces on it whom I recognized. A murdered teacher and his wife. A neighbor. A roommate. A rabbi's son. I too, had several instances where I was extremely close to deadly bomb attacks. I was one of the lucky ones. But I never really figured out how to quickly switch off the mourning and start celebrating our existence. Existence at a price that is unfathomable, and so gut wrenching that I find it hard to speak.

Since those days it has gotten harder and harder to make the transition from sadness to joy. I find myself with a choice. I can either mourn on Yom Hazikaron, or ignore it completely. I don't think it's a good choice. If anything, it's a personal failing. Call it PTSD, or call it weakness, but it simply overwhelms me to think about those whom I have lost (and here I recognize that my loss has been minor compared to many others). So I say a prayer, hug my children even tighter, thank God that my tzahal soldier made it home safely, and continue on my day. No cemetary to visit, and no mourners to comfort. We are so very far away these days. But somehow even with the distance, I still can't bear to acknowledge the grief, but just need to make it through the day.

And then night falls, and suddenly we go from sadness to happiness. M'yagon l'simcha. And the joy. The pure joy of existence, of thanks, and of triumph, is so strong, that I wish to sit down and cry from the power of it. And did, in fact, this year, while watching my child with his flag. That kind of crying I could do. And I continued with one special tradition. Each Yom Haatzmaut I take a picture of my bechor, my Gavriel Simcha. For me he is the epitome of this transition. Gavriel- his strength is through Hashem and he has the power l'hitgaber, to overcome. But not only through strength, but through Simcha. Through joy. And that, my friends, is how I make it through the week. The same way all of am yisrael makes it through. Through strength. Through Hashem's strength. And through joy.

I will try to get a family photo soon, but here is my Gavriel Simcha.

Nine months old.

Eighteen months old.

2.5 years old.

3.5 years old.

4.5 years old.

Chag Sameach everyone. To all of am yisrael, both near and far. To those nearby, and to those in our hearts.

In Memoriam

2008-05-06T21:22:00.001-04:00

One day i'll figure out how to upload slideshows. In the meantime, here you go.

http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v337/sivan/?action=view&current=a3a78c63.pbw

Remembering these lost friends, neighbors, and teachers. The 22,437 fallen soldiers, and the thousands of civilians who have lost their lives over the past 60+ years in defense of and love for the State of Israel.

Upsherin!

2008-05-03T21:33:00.005-04:00

Things were getting out of control.

Okay, not the real-deal-wait-until-three-upsherin, but it was getting a bit rediculous with Nadav's hair having to be clipped back every time he ate, so I took the plunge and went for it!

Ari still glances at me in horror. But even he admits that they look cute.

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AYuW7Vw0YtGZZ

Update

2008-04-16T11:49:00.002-04:00

He's crawling.

They both are. And Ilan is starting to stand. And Nadav is getting to a sitting position on his own.

Be scared, be very scared.

ps. Chag Sameach everyone! We're off to Minneapolis.

pps. SO cute though, huh?

Overheard in the Lowell home...

2008-04-03T14:11:00.007-04:00

Gavriel walking in to the twins' bedroom first thing in the morning to entertain them, since Abba and Ima are too lazy to get up:

"Ilan! You're twins! I can't play with both of you!"

Gavriel responding to Ari's request for a pancake from his plate:

"Abba, I'll share with you if you take away my water and give me apple juice"

Generally heard from all three speaking members of the household:

"Ilan! No! Stay away from Nadav! That's his toy!"

As in Ilan crawling over to Nadav at every available moment, grabbing his toy, and knocking him to the ground. Needless to say, Nadavis in high gear to learn how to crawl away. Hey, self defense is big when you're a twin. Sorry the video ends just before you see the attack. It's from my phone so it's short and fuzzy, but hey, you're seeing the kid crawl, so don't complain.

And just in case you were wondering who Nadav looks like:

And just because all three are super cute and i'm too sleep deprived to remember the other cute things that Gavriel says:

Can't Stop Monkeying Around!

Sleepy Play

2008-03-24T21:18:00.003-04:00

As related to me by my darling humbled husband,

It's early morning. Gavriel jumps on Ari's back, and says "Abba, you're a horse! Neigh! Neigh!"

Ari (yawning) then tells G, oh buddy, I'm not a horse, I'm... a sloth! Oh look, it's light outside, time for me to go to lay down and go to bed! Night night!

G: No abba, you don't lay down to sleep. A sloth has to put up his legs to go to sleep (demonstrates trying to lay upside down). Abba, it's very hard.

Ari: oh okay Gavriel. I guess I won't be a sloth and go to sleep. Sigh.

What a difference a week makes!

2008-03-22T21:24:00.005-04:00

Rain, pour, hurricane, whatever. It's Saturday night and I still can't catch my breath. Ready?

Last Saturday night we stopped feeding the babies at night. On Tuesday night they started sleeping through the night. I think God knew not to mess with us any further and made them sleep for their sakes.

By Monday I had the flu. The real deal influenza. Yes, I got the vaccine this year. There went all of my plans for kitchen meetings and doctor appointments. I didn't know I could possibly have so many meds to help me breathe at once at still not be able to catch my breath.

Then G got strep. Poor kid missed his Purim play. But he'll do his part on demand for anyone who wishes to call, so no worries if you missed it. For the record, I did a jig when Ari texted me and said strep and not influenza. Never did a jig for strep before.

Then Ari got strep. Thank God he was diagnosed BEFORE he was miserable, which would have been much harder to kick. (Did a jig for that one too. Okay, not really, but an internal one)

Then Ilan started crawling.

Then Ilan got his first tooth. Second is close behind.

Then we hosted Purim. We had a zoo theme. Can't imagine where we got the inspiration.

Then I cooked chicken and rice an hour before Shabbat because we suddenly realized that the babies actually eat more than anyone else in the house and need good cooked food.

Then we rearranged the living room furniture to babyproof. Again.

Now Nadav has seen Ilan's determination to clobber him at every opportunity (aka crawl across the room, climb on top of him and take his toys while whacking him repeatedly throughout the day), and is very close to crawling himself. To escape, you see.

As I said, it has been quite the week. But as I told my therapist early in the week. As long as I'm the only one who develops the flu, it's all good. Well, maybe not good, but not hide under the covers bad.

For those of you who aren't afraid, our door is always open for monkey viewing hours.

Do you ever wonder...

2008-03-19T20:33:00.004-04:00

about the parents of Dora the explorer and Diego the animal rescuer?

We do hear about Mami and Papi in the Dora adventures occasionally. Mami is an archaeologist. Very cool. Working mother of three little kids; twin toddlers and this slightly prococious little girl who seems to have quite a wandering problem.

Seriously. In one episode, she crossed a forest on a zip cord, went down a river full of crocodiles, and dealt with a pesky fox who, to be honest, could have rabies or God knows what diseases, besides his clear kleptomania. Now, I could understand if there was some huge emergency that caused her to go on such a trip. I mean, maybe her entire village was burning down, or she got wind of a terrorist plot. But her goal in this particular episode? To go visit Mami at the Mayan ruins for lunch.

I kid you not.

And Mami was so happy to see her too! No mention of a ditched babysitter, nothing about how she got there or why Mom is working so far away from home, for that matter. But hey, it was nice of her to come for lunch.

And Diego. Do you know that kid has a rescue pack that can turn in to ANYTHING? I mean we're talking solo hot air balloon, kayak, dune buggy. Not like he ever had lessons to use these things, let alone approval from the MVA or the Coast Guard to use these apparatus before legal age. And even more than that- the last book I read Gavriel, he had to go rescue some baby whale. Excuse me, baby humpback whale. On the way he was riding a turtle to the island to reach the whale when he encountered sharks (did I really just type that?) Oh no. Not sharks. But don't worry, if we tell the turtle to swim faster, we'll lose the sharks.

No problem, Diego. It's all good. Just swim faster. Good luck with that.

Let me put it out there that I actually love Diego. It's a great show. Gavriel learns SO much from that kid. He can tell me the difference between types of penguins. He knows about how whales dive. Seriously, he even knows the climate that tapirs live in. I don't even know what the hell a tapir is. But everytime I watch those shows, I feel like I need to put a huge disclaimer on it, and warn G, do NOT do these things without my permission. These are not normal children. They would be put in foster care in a minute if Nick Jr actually had a conscience.

Oh, and don't even get me started about Curious George. Damn monkey NEVER listens to directions and always ends up on top.

Breaking the ice.

2008-03-18T14:35:00.004-04:00

Yes, it's been forever. And the longer it gets the harder it is to come back, for there's even more to catch up. So today I decided to break the ice. For real this time. But aren't you glad you check once in a while for something new? Otherwise, you might have missed the event this morning, when all three boys were reading a book together. On their own. With no prompting, lifting, or forcing.

I don't know about you, but I've been waiting for this morning for about 8.5 months.

Sorry for not posting, but aren't they SO FREAKIN' CUTE??!?!?!

2008-01-22T21:59:00.000-04:00

Ima, we really hate that big black flashy thing you point at us all day long.

So typical. Ilan giggling and Nadav wondering why he has to put up with it.

Poor Ilani passed out in the jumperoo with bronchiolitis

Nadavi loves to sit in his chair

N practicing how to sit with Mr. Monkey helping

Yeah, yeah, I'm so bad. I'll welcome the lashing from anyone who shows up and volunteers to change a diaper.

Picture it: Day thirty-something of bronchiolitis. We all arrive at my mother's house on Thursday afternoon after a very uneventful nonstop (woohoo) drive. Putting the nebulizer behind us (well, except for Ilan), planning outings for Sunday with Bubby, aquarium, etc. Hung out all of Shabbat with Audrey and her two boys. All was well. Well, except for a very sad trip to Bubby's vet on Friday, but we knew that was coming, and just keep sending Bubby lots of hugs.

Until Saturday night. BOOM!!! Rotavirus, stomach flu, whatever you want to call it. It was ugly, it was messy, and everyone from Bubby to Audrey's baby Jack Jack was hit. Turns out, it's the gift that goes on giving. G has recovered, Ari and I are better, and 60 loads of laundry later, we're back home in NJ. But the babies are still having, ahem, issues, and poor Jack was hospitalized for dehydration, poor kid.

But we will persevere! We will survive! And I can at least share some quick cute stuff.

The babies are both rolling in both directions, pulling on each other's hair, and are in love with big brother. I mean INFATUATED. One day he's finally gonna pull too hard and walk away with their arms and I swear they're gonna keep on giggling at him all the way to the ER.

Nadav won't eat baby food if we're eating regular food around him. He's not yet 7 months old, but he doesn't care, he wants our food, which of course we can't give him. He's a huge cuddler and a total momma's boy, which of course I LOVE. Every day he looks more and more like G did at this age. I promise to find pics to compare them.

Ilan will swallow anything we put on a spoon. One day I'm gonna try something really nasty just to see if he'll swallow it. Yes yes, I don't get out much. But hey, I gotta find my kicks somewhere. He's still super cute and super sociable, smiling and giggling at anyone who will pick him up.

It's kind of pathetic really. Now they're starting to raise their arms when we walk by. And sometimes you just can't do it, because you're holding another baby, or actually trying to get something done. Sigh. Reality of being #2 and #3 especially when they come together.

G is doing fine. Although it's a little tough that he's been relatively speaking the healthy one ad we've all been more sick. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for his health. But it's hard when he's running circles around the rest of us as we're sprawled on the couch bouncing babies on our laps and praying for relief. As Ari likes to say, he prefers toddlers just a bit sick- not enough to be serious, but enough to take the edge off and make them all snuggly and amenable to things like naps and day-long videofests. I apologize to all the critics for having basically no pictures of him. He's only home when the babies are home, whereas I can snap them throughout the day. That's my excuse but the truth is I've been lacking and promise to get some soon. He's adorable, as usual, and quickly gaining in the big mouth department. Sigh. And I have a million cute things he's said somewhere locked in my mind unable to present themselves because of my lack of sleep.

The bonus pics above are for my loyal readers who still come to look for posts, even though they're few and far between these days. One day Ill be back. When they sleep through the night perhaps. Ha Ha.

And finally, for the big teaser- this is my one and only pic of Gavriel for the month. He's standing in front of our brand new house. Well, it's not a new house, but it's new that it's ours. More info, details, and pics to come soon- hopefully before the projected move, which we're hoping will be this summer. No one panic, the new house is still in Hillside, about ten minutes away from our current home.

Ramblings, revelations, a bit of rum, and a happy new year.

2007-12-31T22:08:00.000-04:00

Can I just start with the rum?

We all have those moments. It really would be easier with a bit of rum and coke.

I'm not an alchoholic by any stretch of the imagination. One drink in a few months is a lot for me. But once in a while I really get why it would tempt someone. Love that little buzz which makes everything a bit easier to handle. Who wouldn't want that buzz all the time?

Know those group games where you're supposed to repeat what came before and add one more? Yes, I know I spent too much time in Bnei Akiva and NCSY.

Two sick babies.

Two sick babies and a cranky toddler.

Two sick babies, a cranky toddler, and a crashing computer.

Two sick babies, a cranky toddler, a crashing computer, and a new herniated disc.

Two sick babies, a cranky toddler, a crashing computer, a new herniated disc and a grey afternoon.

You get the point. I could go on and on, but why make you, kind reader, just as miserable as we are this week.

Actually, I'm not miserable, although by rights this week I should be. I deserve it with two very sick babies and one sick little boy.

Of course, what we deserve and what we actually get is not always the same. Hence I lie in bed at night counting my blessings and wondering why I've been blessed with so much, and at the same time wonder why God tests me so much.

So here we are, my dear reader, on the cusp of a new year, and I share with you my brags and drags of 2007. Forgive me if this is a little more "raw" than I usually write. I promise to return to the regularly scheduled program tomorrow.

Brags:

My adorable wonderful beautiful children. Each with their own personality, strengths and flaws, each a blank slate of wonder and amazement. Each with their own road to follow, anchored only by our love and the limits of their bodies and minds.

My wonderful wonderful husband. He puts up with me, most of all. He carries his load without complaint, as well as my own. A wonderful father, husband, and homemaker. He is a brilliant, strong, and positive man with a gentle soul and I love him dearly.

My family, and Ari's, for our friends, both far and near. For the support, the love, belief and faith.

Jenn. For my little ones.

My body, which puts up with so much, and keeps on ticking and striving to regain and find new strength.

The fact that I can do many more weights and many more reps at the gym than I was able to only a few months ago (thanks to Gay).

80 pounds lost and still fighting for more.

My beautiful bracelet from my mother, filled with many colored-stones, and reminds me to appreciate all of the facets of life that I encounter.

For my other, yellow bracelet, in honor of my friend, which reminds me to Livestrong. For me and for her.

My ever-growing hair, which has gotten so long I'm about to chop it off and send to those who need it.

Baby swings. Thank the lord for baby swings when both babies can't breathe lying down.

A new community, new friends, and a new home.

I could go on and on, but I promised myself not to stay up until midnight tonight.

Drags:

A new herniated disc up in my cervical spine. Almost certainly from the car accident in April. Goddamned bastard who was probably drunk. Because I didn't have enough back problems.

Pain pain and more pain. Pain that won't go away without drugs, which make me sleepy, so I can't take them, and thus have more pain.

Depression, and the demons that come with pain.

Letting other people care for your children when you know you could do it better- if only you could.

Bills bills and more bills. Mostly medical. Sigh.

Sick children. Stupid small airways blocked with mucous.

Watching Gavriel struggle with asthma.

Knowing Ilan will probably develop asthma.

Cancer.

Being so far from Israel.

Missing dear friends.

Grey, cold weather and the early dark of winter.

I really could have used that caribbean vacation before the twins came. Bastard driver.

There you have it folks. The brags and the drags of 2007. Hopefully 2008 will have less drags and many more brags. As it is, I think the brags part of the scale is doing pretty well. Now to keep working on the drags...

We are blessed.

2007-12-16T21:38:00.000-04:00

No, still not sleeping. And hurting. So when my sweetheart did the following this morning, I almost collapsed in a pile of mush.

Gavriel goes upstairs to get clothes for the day with my encouragement, since I'm feeding a baby in the living room. He comes back down with shirt, tzitzit, kipa, and underwear. I say- fabulous, but you're still missing pants and socks, so please go up to get them. Then he tries to convince me to go up for him, but I say no, my back is hurting right now and I don't want to climb the stairs.

Okay Ima. And off he walks to the craft corner. I ignore the temporary negligence in following my instructions. It is Sunday, after all. No rush.

I continue feeding said baby, move on to the next baby (yes, we do everything in twos around here ;) and then go over to see what he's working on so diligently.

G: Ima, it's a rocket.

Me: Oh great, a rocket (where has he heard that word before???)

G: See Ima? Here's the black i'm cutting, and here, I need to take fire colors to make fire for the rocket.

Me: Oh great, fire for the rocket (where did he learn THAT???)

G: Yeah Ima, you see, it's to help you go up the stairs, because your back hurts, you can use the rockets and it'll help you go up!
Me: Oh great! thank you sweetie! (mush, mush, i'm a small pile of mush.... we are so blessed that he has a beautiful heart.

And for those of you not close enough to come visit- the blessed ones in some pictures.

Super Abba feeding both babes at once (while telling Ima to run for the camera)!

I have something on my face, don't I?

Who's da boss?
Nadav loves to snuggle!
What? Is there something you're looking at? (Nadav)

My boys are VERY in to their food. (Ari with Nadav)

Proud after lighting the menora.
G and Ilan. He's throwing Ilan some sympathy for tummy time.
Giggling Ilan (dirty nose from sweet potatoes :)
Okay, I know he's verbal, but he was so freakin cute at his chanuka play. Here he is looking for the oil!
Super Nadav!

Happy Chanuka (and post chanuka) from the Lowell Family!

Pics...

2007-12-03T23:18:00.000-04:00

Dude. You're in my toy.

Nadav having breakfast with Zayde!

More fun pics! http://schochet.shutterfly.com/?a=1

God willing i'll scan in a pic tomorrow. It's of G at 6 months, and is a bit freaky how much Nadav looks like him at that age! Older pics of G look like Ilan. Go figure.

And just a couple more-

Nadav in the morning- gotta love those dimples.

Pee wee Ilan with bedhead.

Catching up...

2007-12-03T22:59:00.000-04:00

Courtesty of Ari:

Upstairs in Gavriel's room.
Abba: Gavriel, it's time to feed the fishies!
Gavriel: Okay, Abba! I wanna help! Abba, Abba, wait. I be Superman, and you be Batman. I can carry this chair over to the fishies to help feed them because I'm strong! Superman is strong!
Abba: (eyeing growing little boy with some skepticism) Um... Gav-, um, Superman, do you need help with that?
Gavriel: No, I'm Superman! I'm strong! I don't need help, Batman! (begins carrying over chair, grunting with effort. pauses) Um.. Batman, please you help me carry this chair? We do it together. Teamwork! Teamwork!

In kitchen, making drawings for Zehava in Israel
Gavriel: Abba, please we put this in the mail for my safta in Israel?
Abba: Sure Gavriel.
Gavriel: We can bring them to the factory?
Abba: Um.... do you mean the post office, Gavriel? Yeah, we can bring them to the post office.
Gavriel: Yeah, I mean the post office.
Abba: Although, you know, Gavriel, we don't have to take them to the post office. We can just drop them in the mailbox instead.
Gavriel: (looks confused) But Abba, then my safta have to get on an airplane and come find the mailbox to get my letter.
Abba: Um... no, Gavriel, it's okay. The mailman knows where the mailbox is. He will go to the mailbox and take out the letter and give it to another man who will take it on an airplane to go to your safta.
Gavriel: (looking relieved) Oh, okay Abba! That so cool!

At 7:00 AM, sharp
Gavriel: Abba, Abba, wake up! Abba come see! Look, it's so amazing!
Abba: (half asleep) Okay, okay, I'm coming, what is it?
Gavriel: Abba, Abba look! I can't believe it! Abba, look! Look!
Gavriel: (drags me into the living room. I see nothing remarkable) Abba, look! I can't believe it! It's so clean! Abba, look, it's so clean! I can't believe it! It's so amazing!
Abba: Yeah, that's great kid.

And then there is the realization that my little ones are growing up in America. Just this week G saw his very first indoors Christmas tree. I took him to the chiropracter and they had a tree in the waiting room. While we've had several conversations about the lights adorning our neighbors' yards, we had never discussed this. So when we walked in, he exclaimed, Ima! Why is that tree inside, and why does it have lights on it?!

Finally, there was the very classic reaction that G had when he saw the snow yesterday morning. He stepped in to the living room, saw the winter wonderland outside, and said- Zayde! It's Christmas!

For the record, he doesn't watch tv, has never heard "i'm dreaming of a white Christmas", and I have no CLUE how he learned that. It was hilarious though. :)

Winter mornings, Sleepless nights.

2007-10-30T06:48:00.000-04:00

It wouldn't be so bad if it was sunny outside.

I remember this with G- Ari would stay up late if he was kvetchy, and I would be on duty from early morning if he chose to wake early. We would pad down the hallway and play in the living room, the early Jerusalem sun streaming in through the eastern windows of our attic apartment.

It's DARK here in NJ.

I really do hate winter. It's not even that early. I've been up since 5:30 feeding and putting in pacifiers. I finally gave up the ghost at 6:30 and climbed out of bed to sit on the couch. Of course now it's 6:50 and all is silent. Damn that Murphy.

I could handle the lack of sleep. I really could. Except for the dark outside declaring night. How can one rouse themselves into cheerful waking when everything screams sleep. The dark of the moon, the creaking of the house, the early morning cold. So instead I drag myself to the living room, still full of shadow, and perch on the couch, waiting for which of the three will call me first. Will it be the quiet padding of my firstborn, who now comes to the living room on his own, 4 years after those sunny mornings, or will it be the next wave of little ones, calling from their cribs and just beginning to learn what these mornings hold in store.

Of course, the mornings have changed too. No longer the slow waking and laughter of small toys and slow nursing, but a hurried preparation for carpool and a day at school of friendship and knowledge. A small boy with a big bag hurrying off all too soon to join in the race.

It is 7:00 am, the sky has lightened a few degrees, and the world is beginning to yawn. My little ones still slumber, but the quality of the light tells me that all too soon this quiet morning will pass, and once again we will be in the fast tumble of the day, but tomorrow I will be back here on my couch, waiting for the moon to pass, and for the smiles to greet me.

And some more....

2007-10-24T12:18:00.001-04:00

Hee hee hee- I challenge you to count the chins on this kid. (Nadav, fyi)

Ilan in the Jumperoo making eyes at the froggy.

Ilan being tickle tortured by big brother G.

No time to write...

2007-10-21T21:26:00.000-04:00

BUT-

G horseback riding this morning. First time on a real horse and not a pony. He's insisting we go back next Sunday :)

Nadav sleeping on my brother's couch. When you forget the miracle blanket, nothing like raiding the front closet for supplies. Have scarf, will travel!

G jumping in the pic I was snapping of Ilan, who fell asleep in desperation while having tummy time!

G getting his first chiropractic adjustment. He was a CHAMP and giggled through most of it.

G enjoying his new thomas sheets!

My big boys!!!

Sorry it's fuzzy, but it's such a good pic, I just couldn't help it. They are so cute sometimes!

Kosher dinosaurs?

2007-10-15T20:13:00.000-04:00

G is all about the parsha lately. I love it, and he comes home talking about what he learned in school every Friday.

So last week was Parshat Noach. Noa and the ark. And he's all about that ark. Apparently, Hashem decided to make the flood because the people davened to the sun and the moon. And they weren't nice to each other (minor detail). If you ask him direct questions he can tell you all about that ark, what animals came on and how many, etc. All week we've been discussing it:

Me: Gavriel how many rabbits were on the teiva?

G: 2!

Me: Gavriel, how many cows were on the teiva?

G: 7!

Seriously, he's totally got it down. Split hooves and chews chud, 7, not kosher, 2. And we've been doing this all week long. To the extent that he's been picking only kosher animals as his zoo plate for dinner. http://www.amazon.com/Hefty-Pals-Plates-Case-Pack/dp/B000E0FZR4

But as you can imagine, there are only a certain number of animals in that package of animals. We went through the sheep, the goldfish and the cows, but the pack still has tigers, hippos, and dinosaurs. So this is what happened tonight when I insisted he pick a non-kosher animal for his pancakes.

Me: G, you have to pick one kiddo.

G: Ima. One second. I can have a dinosaur! They're kosher!

Me: Okay Gavriel, but, um, I don't think dinosaurs were kosher when they lived.

G: Uh uh Ima, they were- Dinosaur Chicken, and that's kosher!

Me: Snort. Ari, may I be excused from dinner to go sit and blog this?

ps. Dinosaur chicken = breaded chicken in the shapes of dinosaurs. Bought in the kosher supermarket.

Gavriel on steroids.

2007-10-11T23:01:00.000-04:00

Okay, not on steroids, thank God. But the following is a video of my eldest son after he saw his new Thomas the Train bedding. This video was taken 20 minutes in to the jumping, not including the ten minute phone call he made to his grandparents to say thank you in roughly 30 different ways. Pics of the new room will follow soon. Oh, and let me just add that during the entire half hour of jumping he was chanting "Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!" just like you hear for a bit at the end of the video. THIRTY MINUTES.

Guess who's laughing?!

2007-10-11T22:35:00.000-04:00

Sorry it's so fuzzy, it's from my cell phone. I'm really going to have to break out the real video camera. Ari's playing peek-a-boo with him. And yes, he's always wearing a bib since he can't keep his darn food down and i'm tired of ruining all his clothes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MldY7fmygTo

It's amazing. Ilan started rolling occasionally from tummy to back, Nadav is working hard on sitting, and I am becoming afraid. Very very afraid. Crawling straight in to the fireplace is right around the corner!

Why i'm loving four.

2007-09-23T13:07:00.000-04:00

The following comments were made by my eldest child during a half hour drive with me. I might mention just in terms of backdrop that I was in the front of the van and he was in the way back, and Uncle Moishy and the mitzva men was playing for the majority of the drive. Oh, and mitzva notes are of prime prime value for preschool.

A siman tov u'mazel tov, oh yeah! (common expression lately. please don't ask me where he got it from).

G: Ima, the music sounds funny because it's coming through these holes back here.

Me: Gavriel, you mean the speakers?

Ima, I can do lots of mitzvas. I can share my toys with Bubby when she comes to visit on Succot, and then you can write me a mitzva note saying that I shared with our guest!

Ima, we can also share our car. Like if we fly somewhere, and someone wants to come with us, they can come in our car to the airport. Can you write me a mitzva note for that too?

While sitting in traffic:

Gavriel: Ima, Hashem made a mistake with the numbers!

Me: Gavriel, what in the world are you talking about?

G: (big sigh of exasperation). Ima! Number go like this- 1, 2, 3, 4... Hashem made a mistake!

Me: Gavriel, I'm trying hard to understand, can you explain to me where he made the mistake.

G: okay Ima. Hashem made all the signs. See Ima, all the signs, and he made a mistake and did 1, 2, 4 instead of 1, 2, 3.

Me: oh. (desperately thinking for something more intelligent to say). Oh wait a minute- Gavriel do you mean THAT sign? (see pic above). Gavriel, Hashem didn't make traffic signs, people did, and this road is named Route 124! But you're right, the 3 is missing if you were trying to count. (me desperately cracking up but hiding it from him since he was so serious, and pecking away at my phone before the light changed to green...)

"Shabbos is going away....we're sorry to see you go"

G: Ima, they're watching Shabbat leave and saying sorry to Shabbat. They're watching and say goodbye. Ima, they apologize.

Me: Oh Gavriel, they're not sorry because they did something wrong, they're sorry because they're sad that shabbat is over. (Could this kid be more literal?)

In the next breathe he says, Ima, when I play hide and seek, I count to ten AND say the alphabet slowly. Yeah, that's what I do.

Ima, on Shababat we can only take food out. And if someone isn't Jewish it's dangerous. And if someone behind us is not Jewish, then they can do it. (No, I haven't a clue what he meant).

Everyone join with me....Hashem is here, Hashem is there, Hashem is truly everywhere!

Bonus from Ari from 5 minutes ago:
Abba, I like this house because it has a sidewalk, and a backyard, and a gate so the squirrels won't come in!

ps. later this evening, Ari has a splinter from building the succah.... "Abba, I think you need to go back to Montreal because Zayde is a doctor!"

Just kidding.

2007-09-23T13:06:00.000-04:00

Like it better with white background. Easier to read imo.

Storytime by Gavriel.

2007-09-19T21:53:00.000-04:00

Told by Gavriel at the dinner table on Rosh Hashana (to me and Ari and my in-laws):

Once upon a time, there was an old lady named- Ima. Ima wanted candy. So she went to the candy store and bought lots of candy, and paid the man a hundred money. But she got a tummyache because she ate too much. The End.

Also of note:

Zayde, this is the best present I ever got in my whole life! (Thomas accessory)

Ari: Gavriel, when you grow up, you'll marry someone and go live in your own home.
Gavriel: No abba (kind of agitated). I'm going to marry you and Ima and live with you for ever and ever.

Reasons why I hate the flu:

2007-09-19T21:40:00.000-04:00

The hot, then the cold, then the hot, then the cold.

You can't help but being hot when holding a screaming baby.

Being so off balanced that I didn't dare hold a baby in the night, leaving Ari to care for two babies on his own at night.

Missing "meet the teacher" night at G's school. I'm such a dork, I actually enjoy those things.

Flaking out on car pool, the chiropracter, and the gym.

And to add insult to injury, I got a migraine on top of the flu. It's been a long day.

Reasons why I like the flu:

Gavriel was so caring. We snuggled and drank apple juice and watched Dora, then he left me to sleep when I needed it. He blew on my chicken soup to cool it off for me. Ahhhh, i'm loving four years old.

A new look.

2007-09-08T23:17:00.000-04:00

Hey, what the heck. It's Elul. Time for a fresh look.

G told me this morning he didn't have to listen to Hashem, because he never heard Him say turning on his lights on Shabbat wasn't allowed. I tried to explain the whole Torah Moshe M'Sinai thing. It didn't work very well. And I really thought I was doing well, when I explained how Yehoshua passed it on, and eventually it came all the way down to his Ima and Abba. Man, was he giving me that "lady, you cracked in da head" look.

Ah well. At least i'm his very best friend ever, even if God doesn't speak to any of us.

We survived.

2007-08-26T17:06:00.001-04:00

19 four year olds. With a couple 3 years olds thrown in for good measure. G is sated on ice cream, presents, and general gluttony. It didn't rain, thank god, and I think sending them home with bath toys in the goody bags was a precient idea.

He's so high on ice cream and presents right now he could power a small New England town. I think i'm going to send him to run laps around the house.

Pics coming soon.

In his world, anything can happen.

2007-08-24T17:53:00.000-04:00

Gavriel's perspective. One thing I love about him is his absolute sense of adventure. In Gavriel's world, anything can happen.

Ari says to me, Gee, I wish we had a pulley to go up there (upstairs to our loft)

G overhears and says, there's police up there Abba?

Hey, it could happen.

We read him a book from Tonka about fire trucks, and after reading it he says, right Abba, so if there's a fire, you wait outside, and there's smoke in the windows, and then when it's over, you go in and shake their hands and say thank you.

Hey, it could happen.

Or there's the terrible awful birthday cake that I made G. Well, the cake was yummy, but I forgot the ratio for frosting, and it came out resmbling cement (see first pic). But since it was only his hebrew birthday and the cake was a bit imprompto, I thought I could get away with just making a big cement 4 and sing and be done with it. As soon as he tasted it, G said, Ima, this is yucky- I don't like it. So abba quickly fixed the cake with a simple glaze (second pic, oh so yummy), and g said, thank you abba- you put glue on it!

Like I said, anything can happen.

By the way, when G closed his eyes and made a wish. He wished for a Thomas Train Cake. Poor kid had to use his wish to get a better cake. Which he did and is having on Sunday ;)