Matzav.com is reporting that a new poster (viewable from the link) is being used to highlight the inherent dangers in modern technology. The poster shows two pictures of a kid -- the first a typical yeshiva bachur in a white shirt, with a kippa and a nice smile.
The second picture shows a kid with a baseball cap on backwards, wearing a T-shirt, presumably in the act of yelling something and making an "L" with his fingers.
The two pictures are accompanied by a letter which reads as follows:
Dearest Abba and Mommy,
Just wanted to thank you for the iPod touch you got me for my birthday. It’s the coolest thing! Seriously. I use it all the time to access the most disgusting stuff in the world! You would like totally faint if you knew. Anyway, OMG! It’s like the sickest thing ever. And the internet is WAY fast. It only takes me a few seconds to download the WORST videos and photos imaginable. I can literally get anything I want and talk to anyone I want. Bet you had no idea when you bought it. That’s too bad, cuz, you know, I was just an innocent 7th grader full of potential. You probably had high hopes for me - sorry, but that’s history now. I don’t really care much about learning - or anything else - anymore and I’ll probably drop out of school pretty soon. So long and thanks for ruining me. You rule!
Love, Chaim (a.k.a. “tank”)
Of course, a more reasonable approach isn't possible, right? After all, it never occurred to them that this might be a possible outcome:
Dearest Abba and Mommy,
Just wanted to thank you for the iPod touch you got me for my birthday. It’s the coolest thing! Seriously. I use it all the time to listen to music!
I know that deep down you wouldn't give me something that could potentially be dangerous if you didn't think I could handle it responsibly. I know that if you didn't think I could handle it, you wouldn't let me have it. And I thank you for giving me the education and grounding to know how to use it responsibly. I've always appreciated that you were the types of parents of whom I could ask almost any question without fear. I'm so happy that we have the type of relationship where I can ask you, without fear of getting in trouble, if a particular song or video is appropriate for me. And because you've shown me that you're reasonable and not overbearing parents and that your opinion is trustworthy, I know that you have my best interest at heart if you say that something is not for me.
I know it must be very hard to let go and trust me to use this Ipod. I know that you're proud of me and because I know that you have such high hopes for me, I will do my best to make sure that I don't disappoint you.
Oh yeah, and I also know that you'll be watching over me as I use this Ipod. So I'd better not mess up if I want to keep it. :)
Thanks for showing so much trust in me and for being good and understanding parents.
Love, Chaim
How about, instead of demonizing the technology, educating kids in the responsible usage of it; and allowing parents to determine whether or not their children are capable of using a tool responsibly?
The Wolf
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Monday, December 15, 2008
Parents Playing Favorites
I find it very interesting that Ya'akov, who grew up in a household where parents played favorites (with some bad results), chose to play favorites with his kids as well, again with results that had severe consequences for his descendants for hundreds of years.
Another consequence of his actions, of course, was the creation of this number. :)
(As many of you know, I love Broadway musicals... and Joseph is one of my favorites).
The Wolf
Another consequence of his actions, of course, was the creation of this number. :)
(Warning: women dancing in this video... so don't click if it offends)
(As many of you know, I love Broadway musicals... and Joseph is one of my favorites).
The Wolf
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Teens, Boundaries and Trust
Rabbi Horowitz's column in this week's Jewish Press* addresses a problem that many parents of teens have -- balancing the want (and need) of kids to "do something" on a long winter Saturday night against the need of the parents to make sure that their kids are in a wholesome environment.
He makes one recommendation that parents take the proactive step of organizing an activity for their kids, such as an organized athletic league. Depending on where you live, you may find such programs already exist. There may be basketball leagues for the athletically inclined as well as learning groups for those who want to devote some extra time to learning.
However, not everyone has access to these, or has kids that want to participate in an organized activity. Sometimes, kids just want to "hang out" with friends, go to the local pizza place, or engage in some other "disorganized" activity. I remember when I was a kid, I spent many a Saturday night out with friends of mine. Sometimes it was bowling, sometimes to a movie, or to some other place. And, yes, before anyone asks, it often was mixed (boys and girls). My friends' sisters and their friends were often along for the ride. But we'll get back to that later.
In his article, Rabbi Horowitz makes an important point about establishing a trusting relationship with teenagers while remembering to allow them the freedom that they need. Teens are not five and ten year olds... in many respects, they are young adults, looking to find their own identities. If they are to do this, they have to be allowed a certain amount of freedom to explore. That's not to say that you have to allow everything, of course, but, as a parent, you have to be somewhat flexible. Sure, you might not like to have your son spend his Saturday night at a bowling alley, but you have to may need to compromise to show your teen that you trust him or her.
When I was a kid, my mother trusted me to make certain decisions for myself with regard to which friends to hang out with or where I wanted to go on a Saturday night. Of course, she was always ready to listen to me if I needed advice, but, for the most part, I was allowed to make my own decisions. The reason is that I had her trust - she knew that I was (for the most part) a good kid and hung around with kids who were (again, for the most part) good kids. Yeah, maybe she wasn't so thrilled that I was spending time in mixed company, but I demonstrated to her early on two important traits, which I believe most teens can be taught: (1) that I could develop good judgement and be responsible and (2) that I could learn from mistakes that I make.
My mother had a few rules for when Skipper** and/or I went out. The first was that she had to know where we were going. The second was that if we were going to be late, we had to call. She didn't mind if I stayed out until midnight or one (provided, of course, I made it to the yeshiva's minyan the next day on time) as long as I called her and let her know I was okay (and remember, this was before cell phones).
That's not to say that I was a perfect teen. But I knew enough to know when to "say when." I knew, from the lessons that my mother gave me, what was right and what was wrong (and how far I could venture into the gray area in between). And, most importantly, I had her trust.
I suppose, in many ways, Rabbi Horowitz was writing about my teen years. He stresses the importance of cutting teens slack, and my mother did. He also stresses the importance of maintaining some rules (curfew, checking in if you're going to be late, etc.), which my mother did. And he mentions the importance of, while maintaining a veto power over your teens' choice of destination, using it sparingly -- even if it means going to an activity that you might otherwise disapprove of -- and my mother did that as well.
Walter is now in his mid-teens. George has just entered them and Wilma is not far behind. They are no longer little kids, and Eeees and I can no longer supervise every moment that they spend out of the house with friends. The way I see it, we have a few options: (1) We can just let them go out and, as long we don't get a call from the cops, all is okay. (2) We can forbid them to go anywhere unless the activity and the people are completely pre-approved by us. (3) We can give them some freedom (as is age approriate, of course) and work to instill in them a sense of right and wrong, and give them the mental and emotional tools to allow them to make decisions on their own.
The proper path, I think, is obvious. The first one is the easiest for Eeees and I to follow. However, the risk of things going wrong is just too high that something can go wrong. Kids (yes, even teens) need boundaries and "don't get arrested" is just not enough of a boundary, IMHO. The second path is also a pretty bad one. Yes, the kids won't get in trouble if you supervise and monitor everything they do as teens (assuming you physically can do that). But what happens once they are no longer under your control. However, the day will come (whether it's when they actually become adults, or move out of the house, or when they simply get tired of what they perceive to be excessive parental influence in their lives and rebel) when you simply cannot be on top of them all of the time. If you haven't given them a chance to practice making decisions, then how are they to know how to act once they are out on their own?
Sadly, I think too many parents in our community take the first option out of sheer laziness or the second option out of genuine concern, while not realizing that they are robbing their children of the learning experiences that will serve them well in later life. The last approach is the one taken by my mother and the one that I think is the best to take with kids. Is it possible that the kid will make a bad decision? Yes, it certainly is possible. But you are also giving them the chance to learn from their mistakes, to grow and mature, and, most importantly, to acquire the necessary experience to enable to make responsible life choices in the future.
And isn't that our ultimate job as parents anyway?
The Wolf
P.S. Oh, yeah, I said I'd get back to the mixed company I kept as a teen. Here's the short story: yes, we went out as a group -- my friends, their sisters, some of their female friends. Number of girls I kissed, held hands with or had serious physical activity with at (or as a result of) those meetings: none. Number of girls who became pregnant at any of those meetings: none. Number of "serious relationships" that developed from those meetings: none. Number of times I or one of my friends ended up drunk or high: none. Number of times that we were arrested: none.
Related Post:
Our Kids... Do We Want To Force Them To Keep The Mitzvos?
* This post in no way means to imply that R. Horowitz would have approved of my actions as a teen (described later in the post).
** It should be noted that very often Skipped did *not* go out with my friends and I -- but the rules applied to her as well, whomever she was out with.
He makes one recommendation that parents take the proactive step of organizing an activity for their kids, such as an organized athletic league. Depending on where you live, you may find such programs already exist. There may be basketball leagues for the athletically inclined as well as learning groups for those who want to devote some extra time to learning.
However, not everyone has access to these, or has kids that want to participate in an organized activity. Sometimes, kids just want to "hang out" with friends, go to the local pizza place, or engage in some other "disorganized" activity. I remember when I was a kid, I spent many a Saturday night out with friends of mine. Sometimes it was bowling, sometimes to a movie, or to some other place. And, yes, before anyone asks, it often was mixed (boys and girls). My friends' sisters and their friends were often along for the ride. But we'll get back to that later.
In his article, Rabbi Horowitz makes an important point about establishing a trusting relationship with teenagers while remembering to allow them the freedom that they need. Teens are not five and ten year olds... in many respects, they are young adults, looking to find their own identities. If they are to do this, they have to be allowed a certain amount of freedom to explore. That's not to say that you have to allow everything, of course, but, as a parent, you have to be somewhat flexible. Sure, you might not like to have your son spend his Saturday night at a bowling alley, but you have to may need to compromise to show your teen that you trust him or her.
When I was a kid, my mother trusted me to make certain decisions for myself with regard to which friends to hang out with or where I wanted to go on a Saturday night. Of course, she was always ready to listen to me if I needed advice, but, for the most part, I was allowed to make my own decisions. The reason is that I had her trust - she knew that I was (for the most part) a good kid and hung around with kids who were (again, for the most part) good kids. Yeah, maybe she wasn't so thrilled that I was spending time in mixed company, but I demonstrated to her early on two important traits, which I believe most teens can be taught: (1) that I could develop good judgement and be responsible and (2) that I could learn from mistakes that I make.
My mother had a few rules for when Skipper** and/or I went out. The first was that she had to know where we were going. The second was that if we were going to be late, we had to call. She didn't mind if I stayed out until midnight or one (provided, of course, I made it to the yeshiva's minyan the next day on time) as long as I called her and let her know I was okay (and remember, this was before cell phones).
That's not to say that I was a perfect teen. But I knew enough to know when to "say when." I knew, from the lessons that my mother gave me, what was right and what was wrong (and how far I could venture into the gray area in between). And, most importantly, I had her trust.
I suppose, in many ways, Rabbi Horowitz was writing about my teen years. He stresses the importance of cutting teens slack, and my mother did. He also stresses the importance of maintaining some rules (curfew, checking in if you're going to be late, etc.), which my mother did. And he mentions the importance of, while maintaining a veto power over your teens' choice of destination, using it sparingly -- even if it means going to an activity that you might otherwise disapprove of -- and my mother did that as well.
Walter is now in his mid-teens. George has just entered them and Wilma is not far behind. They are no longer little kids, and Eeees and I can no longer supervise every moment that they spend out of the house with friends. The way I see it, we have a few options: (1) We can just let them go out and, as long we don't get a call from the cops, all is okay. (2) We can forbid them to go anywhere unless the activity and the people are completely pre-approved by us. (3) We can give them some freedom (as is age approriate, of course) and work to instill in them a sense of right and wrong, and give them the mental and emotional tools to allow them to make decisions on their own.
The proper path, I think, is obvious. The first one is the easiest for Eeees and I to follow. However, the risk of things going wrong is just too high that something can go wrong. Kids (yes, even teens) need boundaries and "don't get arrested" is just not enough of a boundary, IMHO. The second path is also a pretty bad one. Yes, the kids won't get in trouble if you supervise and monitor everything they do as teens (assuming you physically can do that). But what happens once they are no longer under your control. However, the day will come (whether it's when they actually become adults, or move out of the house, or when they simply get tired of what they perceive to be excessive parental influence in their lives and rebel) when you simply cannot be on top of them all of the time. If you haven't given them a chance to practice making decisions, then how are they to know how to act once they are out on their own?
Sadly, I think too many parents in our community take the first option out of sheer laziness or the second option out of genuine concern, while not realizing that they are robbing their children of the learning experiences that will serve them well in later life. The last approach is the one taken by my mother and the one that I think is the best to take with kids. Is it possible that the kid will make a bad decision? Yes, it certainly is possible. But you are also giving them the chance to learn from their mistakes, to grow and mature, and, most importantly, to acquire the necessary experience to enable to make responsible life choices in the future.
And isn't that our ultimate job as parents anyway?
The Wolf
P.S. Oh, yeah, I said I'd get back to the mixed company I kept as a teen. Here's the short story: yes, we went out as a group -- my friends, their sisters, some of their female friends. Number of girls I kissed, held hands with or had serious physical activity with at (or as a result of) those meetings: none. Number of girls who became pregnant at any of those meetings: none. Number of "serious relationships" that developed from those meetings: none. Number of times I or one of my friends ended up drunk or high: none. Number of times that we were arrested: none.
Related Post:
Our Kids... Do We Want To Force Them To Keep The Mitzvos?
* This post in no way means to imply that R. Horowitz would have approved of my actions as a teen (described later in the post).
** It should be noted that very often Skipped did *not* go out with my friends and I -- but the rules applied to her as well, whomever she was out with.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
What Do Our Kids REALLY Need?
An interesting letter appeared today on YeshivaWorldNews, penned by a "Chana L" looking for advice as a parent. Specifically, she's looking for advice on how to allow her kids to keep up with the Jones' kids.
Here are some relevant excerpts from her letter:
Here are some relevant excerpts from her letter:
Parents that have been blessed with wealth certainly have every right to spend it how they see fit, and if they choose to purchase Juicy pajamas for their daughter for $150, kol hakavod. It is their money. Quite frankly it is none of my business and I do not resent it in any way.
My issue however is what has been going on recently with both girls AND BOYS alike as far as brand name clothing is concerned. Many of us do not realize that many sixth and seventh grade girls are going to school with $175 knapsacks. Sweatshirts that run $75 a piece, and can’t be worn more than once a month. I recall being in school and wearing the same pair of school shoes all winter. Now the girls need their Ugg boots ($110), and three pairs of shoes.
Many high school boys are now wearing ties that I am told run upwards of $150. That is correct…..$150. Their glasses (and g-d forbid you should only have one pair) are all designer names many of which I have never ever heard of. Belts can run over $200 and yet somehow so many of these yeshiva bochurim have them.
She then follows this up with the "parent's lament" of stating that she'd really like to say "no" to her kids, but she's afraid that they'll be ostracized, shunned and forever scarred for life if they can't be like their peers. (Okay, she didn't use those terms, but that's the sentiment). She also seems to think that most of the people who say "no" don't have school age kids.
For what it's worth, the first commenter gave the best and most succienct answer you could ask for -- just say "no."
Well, here's my two cents -- and I have three older school age kids. Just say "no."
*No one* (and I don't care if you're Donald Trump, the President of the U.S., etc.) *needs* a $150 tie. *No one* needs a $200 belt. No one *needs* Ugg boots (who would want to wear something called "Ugg" anyway?) or sweatshirts that can't be worn more than once a month (what are those anyway?). Your job, as a parent, is to see that their *needs* are met, not their wants.
I'll make two points about keeping up with the Joneses' kids:
1. If the Joneses' kids are going to make fun of your kids because their not wearing $150 ties and $200 belts, then I think your kids need new friends. How a person deals with others who are less fortunate than themselves says a lot about their character. Do you want your kids to hang around with people who snobbishly look down at others, or do you want your kids to hang around with other kids who value people for who they are and not what designer labels they are wearing?
2. While saying no to your kids in the short run may make you unpopular, in the long run, you will be doing a great service to your kids. You will be teaching them the meaning of fiscal responsibility. You will be teaching them to learn to live within their means. You will be teaching them that it is far more important to enjoy what you have, rather than be envious of what other people have.
So, Chana, my advice to you is to do the right thing. Just say no.
The Wolf
Related Post: Living In One's Means - A Letter From the Yated
Friday, May 02, 2008
Living In One's Means: A Letter From the Yated
I don't usually barge into Sephardi Lady's territory, but this letter (titled "Strapped For Cash") in the Yated caught my attention.
(Note: Any spelling errors/typos are mine)
Dear Editor,
Is anyone out there surviving financially? I, for one, am not. Pesach itself set me back so seriously. In addition to the cost of making Yom Tov with the sky-high prices of Pesach food - and food in general, there were Afikoman presents to buy and Chol Hamoed trips to go on. This all made my already dire financial situation that much more disastrous.
Take eight kids to an amusement part on Chol Hamoed and you'll walk out having spent close to $200. For what? And if, chas veshalom we don't take our kids on a Chol Hamoed trip every single day, somehow we are lacking as parents. That's the feeling we get. So the day after the amusement park, we went to the Liberty Science Center. That, too, cost a veritable fortune. On the third day of Chol Hamoed, I said that instead of going on a trip, we would go buy Afikoman presents. Frankly, the Chol Hamoed trip would probably have been a bargain compared to the prices we paid at the toy store. On Erev Shabbos, the last day of Chol Hamoed, we took the kids bowling. Who would imagine that you would have to pay well over $100 for a family to play two games of knocking down some bowling pins?
It is unbelievable what is going on out there. The gas prices are absurd. The cost of food is absolutely ridiculous. The only thing in the grocery store that is reasonably priced is the Yated, but, last I checked, this newspaper is not edible.
Is there any end in sight to this recessions that we are in?
Feeling Hopeless
Here's my response:
Dear Feeling Hopeless,
Thank you for your letter. It is certainly true that there are many people struggling to make ends meet during these difficult financial times. Food prices have risen dramatically over the last year and people with large families and limited incomes are indeed feeling the pinch.
However, it seems to me that the people in your household are lacking two basic ideas:
1. There is a difference between items that are necessities (food) and things that are luxuries (Afikoman presents and Chol HaMoed trips).
2. There are plenty of things to do around around NYC that don't cost a "veritable fortune."
You start out your letter by stating that you were in dire financial straits even before Pesach. I'm certain that shopping for a family of ten (eight kids plus, presumably, two adults), Pesach is great strain on the budget. Of course, I don't know what you purchased, but I'm sure that you did your best to contain costs and yet, still came away with a huge food bill. I only have three kids, and yet Pesach food put a nice hole in our checking account -- I'm sure that with twice the number of people, you were hit at least twice as hard.
However, while no one can fault you for complaining about the spiraling costs of food, I think you can be taken to task on your failure to understand that Afikoman presents and Chol Hamoed trips are not necessities. As kids, many of us managed to get through childhood without going on trips everyday. There were years that, as a kid, my sister and I didn't have Afikoman presents simply because our mother didn't have the money. And yet, somehow, we managed to survive and grow into mature, productive adults. Trust me on this... your children will not be scarred for life if they don't go on a trip or don't get Afikoman presents.
In fact, I was discussing your letter with Eeees last night, and she brought something to my attention. Last year Pesach time was kind of tough for us financially. Baruch HaShem, we weren't in danger of going hungry, but we didn't have a lot of leftover cash either. As a result, the kids didn't get Afikoman presents. We did, however, take them on a day trip. One of my kids this year brought up to Eeees that they didn't get Afikoman presents last year.Wilma Fred turned to him her and said "but they took us on a trip. Shouldn't that count?" In other words, (at least some of) my kids have learned to appreciate what they have, rather than bemoaning the fact that they don't have everything.
However, all is not lost. Since you mentioned the Liberty Science Center, I am going to guess that you're in the New York area. In New York City, there are plenty of things to do that cost little or no money. Here are some suggestions for next Chol Hamoed.
1. Go to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens on Tuesday. It's free. The other days aren't too expensive either.
2. Go to the Prosepct Park or Queens Zoos. Adult rates are $6, kids 3-12 are $2. Assuming that of your eight kids two are older than 12 and one is under 3, the total cost (excluding transportation) is $34. Not bad for a family of ten.
3. Go to the Bronx Zoo on Wednesday. Wednesday is pay-what-you-wish day. Go, give $50, and enjoy the day with the animals.
4. Gather up a family or two, pack picnic lunches, Frisbees, balls and gloves and go have a picnic lunch/outing in Central Park or Prospect Park. There is plenty of room for the kids to run around all day. Subway costs for 10 people round trip: $40 -- assuming that all kids pay full fare.
5. Go to the American Museum of Natural History. While the suggested donation is $15 per adult and $8.50 per kid (for a total of $98), this is, again, a *suggested* donation.
6. Take the kids to FAO Schwartz. Just don't buy anything!
7. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and spend the day in Battery Park.
8. Ride the Staten Island Ferry and see the new aquarium at the Staten Island end. You'll also get to see the Statue of Liberty close up. Best of all, it's free.
9. Visit the Sony Wonder Technology Lab. It's free!
10. Visit grandparents. They're likely to pay the kids!
There you go... ten suggestions -- and I'm sure that there are plenty of other low/no cost things to do around the city that I've missed. The point is that you don't have to spend a fortune on trips for Chol Hamoed. If you like, go on one "expensive" trips and make the rest cheaper trips.
Listen, I understand that we all want to seem like "good parents" who will splurge for our children whenever possible. But sometimes, it's just not possible. If going on trips is going to completely blow your budget so that you won't be able to pay the real bills, then you have to be strong and just tell your kids no. You have to realize exactly what is a necessity and what is a luxury, and understand that Afikoman presents and expensive trips fall into the latter category and not the former.
Here's a bit of unsolicited parenting advice: Not taking your kids on a trip every day of Chol Hamoed will not make you seem "lacking as parents." On the contrary, by making an unpopular decision (and explaining *why* you're making it), you will be doing your children a far greater service - teaching them that one has to be responsible, set priorities where they belong (i.e. necessities first and then luxuries) and live within their means. Teaching them that lesson will remain with them and serve them well throughout life, long after the memories of the "missed trip" are faded and gone. Instilling this lesson in them will show that you are indeed not lacking as a parent, but a parent who teaches his/her children the lessons that they need to live.
The Wolf
(Note: Any spelling errors/typos are mine)
Dear Editor,
Is anyone out there surviving financially? I, for one, am not. Pesach itself set me back so seriously. In addition to the cost of making Yom Tov with the sky-high prices of Pesach food - and food in general, there were Afikoman presents to buy and Chol Hamoed trips to go on. This all made my already dire financial situation that much more disastrous.
Take eight kids to an amusement part on Chol Hamoed and you'll walk out having spent close to $200. For what? And if, chas veshalom we don't take our kids on a Chol Hamoed trip every single day, somehow we are lacking as parents. That's the feeling we get. So the day after the amusement park, we went to the Liberty Science Center. That, too, cost a veritable fortune. On the third day of Chol Hamoed, I said that instead of going on a trip, we would go buy Afikoman presents. Frankly, the Chol Hamoed trip would probably have been a bargain compared to the prices we paid at the toy store. On Erev Shabbos, the last day of Chol Hamoed, we took the kids bowling. Who would imagine that you would have to pay well over $100 for a family to play two games of knocking down some bowling pins?
It is unbelievable what is going on out there. The gas prices are absurd. The cost of food is absolutely ridiculous. The only thing in the grocery store that is reasonably priced is the Yated, but, last I checked, this newspaper is not edible.
Is there any end in sight to this recessions that we are in?
Feeling Hopeless
Here's my response:
Dear Feeling Hopeless,
Thank you for your letter. It is certainly true that there are many people struggling to make ends meet during these difficult financial times. Food prices have risen dramatically over the last year and people with large families and limited incomes are indeed feeling the pinch.
However, it seems to me that the people in your household are lacking two basic ideas:
1. There is a difference between items that are necessities (food) and things that are luxuries (Afikoman presents and Chol HaMoed trips).
2. There are plenty of things to do around around NYC that don't cost a "veritable fortune."
You start out your letter by stating that you were in dire financial straits even before Pesach. I'm certain that shopping for a family of ten (eight kids plus, presumably, two adults), Pesach is great strain on the budget. Of course, I don't know what you purchased, but I'm sure that you did your best to contain costs and yet, still came away with a huge food bill. I only have three kids, and yet Pesach food put a nice hole in our checking account -- I'm sure that with twice the number of people, you were hit at least twice as hard.
However, while no one can fault you for complaining about the spiraling costs of food, I think you can be taken to task on your failure to understand that Afikoman presents and Chol Hamoed trips are not necessities. As kids, many of us managed to get through childhood without going on trips everyday. There were years that, as a kid, my sister and I didn't have Afikoman presents simply because our mother didn't have the money. And yet, somehow, we managed to survive and grow into mature, productive adults. Trust me on this... your children will not be scarred for life if they don't go on a trip or don't get Afikoman presents.
In fact, I was discussing your letter with Eeees last night, and she brought something to my attention. Last year Pesach time was kind of tough for us financially. Baruch HaShem, we weren't in danger of going hungry, but we didn't have a lot of leftover cash either. As a result, the kids didn't get Afikoman presents. We did, however, take them on a day trip. One of my kids this year brought up to Eeees that they didn't get Afikoman presents last year.
However, all is not lost. Since you mentioned the Liberty Science Center, I am going to guess that you're in the New York area. In New York City, there are plenty of things to do that cost little or no money. Here are some suggestions for next Chol Hamoed.
1. Go to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens on Tuesday. It's free. The other days aren't too expensive either.
2. Go to the Prosepct Park or Queens Zoos. Adult rates are $6, kids 3-12 are $2. Assuming that of your eight kids two are older than 12 and one is under 3, the total cost (excluding transportation) is $34. Not bad for a family of ten.
3. Go to the Bronx Zoo on Wednesday. Wednesday is pay-what-you-wish day. Go, give $50, and enjoy the day with the animals.
4. Gather up a family or two, pack picnic lunches, Frisbees, balls and gloves and go have a picnic lunch/outing in Central Park or Prospect Park. There is plenty of room for the kids to run around all day. Subway costs for 10 people round trip: $40 -- assuming that all kids pay full fare.
5. Go to the American Museum of Natural History. While the suggested donation is $15 per adult and $8.50 per kid (for a total of $98), this is, again, a *suggested* donation.
6. Take the kids to FAO Schwartz. Just don't buy anything!
7. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and spend the day in Battery Park.
8. Ride the Staten Island Ferry and see the new aquarium at the Staten Island end. You'll also get to see the Statue of Liberty close up. Best of all, it's free.
9. Visit the Sony Wonder Technology Lab. It's free!
10. Visit grandparents. They're likely to pay the kids!
There you go... ten suggestions -- and I'm sure that there are plenty of other low/no cost things to do around the city that I've missed. The point is that you don't have to spend a fortune on trips for Chol Hamoed. If you like, go on one "expensive" trips and make the rest cheaper trips.
Listen, I understand that we all want to seem like "good parents" who will splurge for our children whenever possible. But sometimes, it's just not possible. If going on trips is going to completely blow your budget so that you won't be able to pay the real bills, then you have to be strong and just tell your kids no. You have to realize exactly what is a necessity and what is a luxury, and understand that Afikoman presents and expensive trips fall into the latter category and not the former.
Here's a bit of unsolicited parenting advice: Not taking your kids on a trip every day of Chol Hamoed will not make you seem "lacking as parents." On the contrary, by making an unpopular decision (and explaining *why* you're making it), you will be doing your children a far greater service - teaching them that one has to be responsible, set priorities where they belong (i.e. necessities first and then luxuries) and live within their means. Teaching them that lesson will remain with them and serve them well throughout life, long after the memories of the "missed trip" are faded and gone. Instilling this lesson in them will show that you are indeed not lacking as a parent, but a parent who teaches his/her children the lessons that they need to live.
The Wolf
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Take A Kid To Shul
Rabbi Horowitz asked me to bring up this topic on my blog. There are lots of kids in our communities who live in single parent households. While, thank God, I have never been a single parent, I have known quite a few. These people (usually, but not exclusively, mothers) put in long, hard hours trying to raise kids while holding down a job (and possibly even going to school). How they find the strength to do this I don't know -- but they do it simply because they have to.
However tough it is on the single parents, it's also difficult for the kids. Kids from single parent families know (very keenly) that their family is different from other families. Very often, they are ashamed of the fact -- even though they are not at fault for the condition. It's a terrible thing for a kid to live with that sort of shame. It manifests itself in various ways. In a mother-only household, the boy may watch with envy as his friends sit with their fathers in shul and he sits alone. He sees his friends go to father-son learning programs on Saturday night, and he either has to make do with a tutor, a "lesser" relative, or simply not go at all. In single-father households, girls often miss out on the mother-daughter activities that schools have. Boys and girls need positive role models from both genders, and sometimes, for whatever reason, it just isn't present.
I know of this because I grew up in a single-parent household. My parents separated when I was nine years old. My mother moved to Brooklyn and became a ba'alas t'shuva, and Skipper and I did so along with her. My father continued to remain as he was -- not frum. So, in a biological sense, I had no frum male role model. I did have two frum male relatives, but neither were very accessible to me as a kid -- either they lived too far away from me or were just too old to really relate to me on a personal level. As such, when we first moved to Brooklyn, I went to shul alone. Sitting by yourself in shul on a Shabbos morning with a bunch of older men whom you don't know can be pretty intimidating as a nine or ten year old. Sure, I knew that my mother was sitting right behind the mechitza, but, since she couldn't sit with me, it didn't help much - she might as well have been on Jupiter.
As it turns out, I soon made some friends of kids my own age in the shul. It certainly helps for a kid to have friends. However, it also helps even more when those friends have caring fathers.
My friends' fathers in many ways took me under their wing. Skipper and I were often welcome by their houses. We ate Shabbos and Yom Tov meals with their kids, celebrated Pesach sedarim with them, went places with them, etc. I know that each of them cared for Skipper and I and always looked out for our wellbeing. In some ways, these three* men became surrogate frum role-models/father figures for me.
Two of these men are gone now. One of them even passed away on the same day as my father's father (imagine having two funerals to go to on the first day of Chol HaMoed Pesach). I still miss them very much. One is still around -- I think I'll give him a call soon.
The point, I suppose, is this. I know that kids from single-parent households can be embarrassed about their home situation. They can be afraid or ashamed to go to shul without their father or mother. They can be angry and/or upset that they can't participate in the father-son/mother-daughter activities that are prevalent in our communities. I know this because I *was* that kid. I was that kid who didn't have a father who could help me with my Gemara learning. I was that kid who didn't have a father (or older brother) to sit with in shul. I was that kid who never saw his father make a seder. I was that kid who hid the fact that his parents were no longer married from his classmates/bunkmates. And I was the kid who needed someone to step up and help out. I thank God that Mr. N a"h, Mr. E a"h and Mr. P (in no particular order) were there for me to help me in that crucial stage of my life.
What we need today is more men (and women) like them -- people who will take an interest in the kids in our community who don't have a positive role-model of the appropriate gender to look out for them.
The Wolf
* That's not to say that other people haven't taken us (as a family) under their wing. Many people helped my mother, Skipper and I on our path toward frumkeit, each in their own way. And certainly, many of them showed kindness to me (as a kid) along the way. But those three were certainly the ones I was closest to as a kid growing up. The others came along after I was already more confident in my yiddishkeit and at a point where I was a little older and wasn't afraid to go to shul alone and at a point where I was no longer embarrased/ashamed about my home situation.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A Rant on Parental Responsibility and My Son's Classmates
Some recent events have forced Eeees and I to have a talk with Walter, our oldest, about birds, bees and other similar topics. He is approaching an age where he has to learn to cope with certain urges and understand certain feelings that his body is giving him. He has to learn how to properly deal with women and what are the healthy and unhealthy ways of dealing with them.
During the conversation, the topic took a detour from him to his classmates. To be honest, I was kind of surprised to hear the things that I heard. I've been told that the vast majority of his classmates spend a fair amount of their free time discussing "hot babes" with each other. Some of them have pictures of "hot babes" on their cellphones, including some that are unclothed. Many of them, it seems, have seen movies or television shows that are highly inappropriate (IMHO) for thirteen-year-old boys. All this in a yeshiva that, while, not at the outmost fringes of the right-wing is certainly on that side of center.
To be honest, I'm kind of shocked and a bit angry. I'm shocked that there are parents that are so clueless as to what their children are doing. I'm not saying that Walter is an angel -- heaven knows (pun intended) that he's not -- he's got his own teenage issues to deal with -- but I can honestly say that we have a pretty good handle on what he sees, listens to and reads, and we do screen for inappropriate material. We didn't let him see the latest (fourth) Harry Potter movie because we felt the bath scene with Moaning Myrtle was somewhat inappropriate for his age. Maybe in another year or two... but not yet. I know that most (all?) of his classmates have no doubt seen it. One kid in his class carries around episodes of Family Guy (a funny show, but not for kids) on his MP3 player. The kids in the class talk about Borat (they saw Borat??!!) and some of the reported homosexual content in the movie (I haven't seen it, so I can't comment on it one way or the other. However, according to the report from CommonSenseMedia, it's fairly explicit).
Do parents know what their kids are doing? My son sometimes complains that we won't let him watch this or that. But in the end, we believe that it's for his benefit and that he'll thank us in the end. After all, isn't that what responsible parents do -- shield their children from things that are inappropriate?
I'm also a bit angry, but I suppose that it's somewhat my own fault. I'm angry because for years the yeshiva has been making me feel (or, perhaps more correctly, I've been *allowing* the yeshiva to make me feel) like a sub-standard parent because we have a television in the home and we allow our kids to watch DVDs, read secular books, etc. But now, I see what other kids in the class are doing and, with perhaps one other exception, I find that our child is probably the most "shielded" kid in the class -- and I'm angry. I'm angry because (a) I feel like I've been stigmatized by the administration for no reason and (b) instead of needing to screen the other kids from mine, I find now that all along it's been my kid who has been needing screening from the other kids! And yet, Eeees and I were the ones who were told that we run a "liberal household" by a former principal at the school. If only he knew what would become of this class five years later!
I just don't get it. Who is in the wrong here? The "good parents" who "don't have a television" or "don't watch movies" but have their kids watching things that are highly inappropriate and who have pornographic pictures on their cell phones; or me, who openly has a television, who openly goes to movies (although my kids don't) and who does his level best our guide our children in what they should watch and see and try to teach them that some media are just inappropriate for them at the present time?
The Wolf
During the conversation, the topic took a detour from him to his classmates. To be honest, I was kind of surprised to hear the things that I heard. I've been told that the vast majority of his classmates spend a fair amount of their free time discussing "hot babes" with each other. Some of them have pictures of "hot babes" on their cellphones, including some that are unclothed. Many of them, it seems, have seen movies or television shows that are highly inappropriate (IMHO) for thirteen-year-old boys. All this in a yeshiva that, while, not at the outmost fringes of the right-wing is certainly on that side of center.
To be honest, I'm kind of shocked and a bit angry. I'm shocked that there are parents that are so clueless as to what their children are doing. I'm not saying that Walter is an angel -- heaven knows (pun intended) that he's not -- he's got his own teenage issues to deal with -- but I can honestly say that we have a pretty good handle on what he sees, listens to and reads, and we do screen for inappropriate material. We didn't let him see the latest (fourth) Harry Potter movie because we felt the bath scene with Moaning Myrtle was somewhat inappropriate for his age. Maybe in another year or two... but not yet. I know that most (all?) of his classmates have no doubt seen it. One kid in his class carries around episodes of Family Guy (a funny show, but not for kids) on his MP3 player. The kids in the class talk about Borat (they saw Borat??!!) and some of the reported homosexual content in the movie (I haven't seen it, so I can't comment on it one way or the other. However, according to the report from CommonSenseMedia, it's fairly explicit).
Do parents know what their kids are doing? My son sometimes complains that we won't let him watch this or that. But in the end, we believe that it's for his benefit and that he'll thank us in the end. After all, isn't that what responsible parents do -- shield their children from things that are inappropriate?
I'm also a bit angry, but I suppose that it's somewhat my own fault. I'm angry because for years the yeshiva has been making me feel (or, perhaps more correctly, I've been *allowing* the yeshiva to make me feel) like a sub-standard parent because we have a television in the home and we allow our kids to watch DVDs, read secular books, etc. But now, I see what other kids in the class are doing and, with perhaps one other exception, I find that our child is probably the most "shielded" kid in the class -- and I'm angry. I'm angry because (a) I feel like I've been stigmatized by the administration for no reason and (b) instead of needing to screen the other kids from mine, I find now that all along it's been my kid who has been needing screening from the other kids! And yet, Eeees and I were the ones who were told that we run a "liberal household" by a former principal at the school. If only he knew what would become of this class five years later!
I just don't get it. Who is in the wrong here? The "good parents" who "don't have a television" or "don't watch movies" but have their kids watching things that are highly inappropriate and who have pornographic pictures on their cell phones; or me, who openly has a television, who openly goes to movies (although my kids don't) and who does his level best our guide our children in what they should watch and see and try to teach them that some media are just inappropriate for them at the present time?
The Wolf
Monday, February 26, 2007
Average Kids
Rabbi Horowitz had an article last week (OK, so I'm somewhat slow...) about kids who are average learners (even if they are excellent in middos and yiddishkeit) finding it more and more difficult to get into mainstream yeshivos. More and more often, these kids are being pushed into "alternative" yeshivos where they are often grouped together with "at risk" kids when, in reality, they don't suffer from the same problems that many at-risk kids suffer from.
As the parent of an eighth grader who is less than stellar in Gemorah, his article certainly struck a chord within me. Eeees and I were dreading the high-school application process because we knew that our son was average at best in Gemorah.
Maybe it's because we didn't apply to schools like Mirrer, Chaim Berlin, Torah V'Da'as, etc., but it seems that B"H, we were matzliach. He applied to four schools of a more "modern" bent (how I hate that word in that context) and he was accepted into three of them.
Sadly, the way Rabbi Horowitz reports it, it's a vicious cycle -- parents demand more excellence, so more "average" kids get left out. As the schools are increasingly populated only with excellent students, the average is pulled ever higher.
Truth to tell, I think that it is the responsibility of parents to try to find the best school that their son will fit in, and not necessarily the best school. We certainly could have applied to a school such as the type I listed above, and who knows, maybe he would have gotten into one -- but he certainly wouldn't be happy there. He needs a school that will work with him on his level of learning, challenge him to grow in learning to the best of his abilities and provide direction for post-graduate learning -- in limudei kodesh AND limudei chol. Simply going for the "best" school because of fear of losing social standing or future shidduch issues is incredibly counter-productive and the harm that you can cause a child far outweighs the benefits. Engaging in such behavior does far more to put a kid "at risk" then sending him to a yeshiva that accepts "average" students.
The Wolf
As the parent of an eighth grader who is less than stellar in Gemorah, his article certainly struck a chord within me. Eeees and I were dreading the high-school application process because we knew that our son was average at best in Gemorah.
Maybe it's because we didn't apply to schools like Mirrer, Chaim Berlin, Torah V'Da'as, etc., but it seems that B"H, we were matzliach. He applied to four schools of a more "modern" bent (how I hate that word in that context) and he was accepted into three of them.
Sadly, the way Rabbi Horowitz reports it, it's a vicious cycle -- parents demand more excellence, so more "average" kids get left out. As the schools are increasingly populated only with excellent students, the average is pulled ever higher.
Truth to tell, I think that it is the responsibility of parents to try to find the best school that their son will fit in, and not necessarily the best school. We certainly could have applied to a school such as the type I listed above, and who knows, maybe he would have gotten into one -- but he certainly wouldn't be happy there. He needs a school that will work with him on his level of learning, challenge him to grow in learning to the best of his abilities and provide direction for post-graduate learning -- in limudei kodesh AND limudei chol. Simply going for the "best" school because of fear of losing social standing or future shidduch issues is incredibly counter-productive and the harm that you can cause a child far outweighs the benefits. Engaging in such behavior does far more to put a kid "at risk" then sending him to a yeshiva that accepts "average" students.
The Wolf
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Standards, Expectations and Unconditional Love -- What's the Right Mix?
This weekend, I made a trip up to YU for the annual SOY Seforim sale. One of the books that I picked up is Off the Derech by Faranak Margolese, which I am finding truly fascinating. So far, I've finished the first seventy pages or so and am eagerly looking forward to the rest.
One of the main points that Ms. Margolese makes early in the book is that people leave observant Judaism not because of intellectual issues (Science/Torah and the like), but primarily because of emotional issues. Adolescents can gain a negative emotional view of Judaism from parents, teachers, school administrators and friends. These factors together can contribute to a person's decision to "ditch" observance of the mitzvos as they get older - regardless of any belief in the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai or the Creation story as told in B'raishis (Genesis).
One of the factors that is brought up is the need of children to feel loved unconditionally. She brings a few anecdotes of people who felt that their parents' love for them was conditional on the level of their observance (whether that was actually the case or not). Because they felt that their parents wouldn't love them as much if they weren't observant, Judaism developed as a negative in their minds as adolescents and was (in their own admissions) a part of the reason that they strayed from observance of the mitzvos.
I can certainly understand the need for a child (including adolescents) to feel that they are loved without reservation. As a child, friends may come and go, teachers may be good one year and bad the next, this year's well-loved or well-hated principal may be out the door next year, but parents (barring the truly drastic of life events) are just about the only constants in a child's life. They are (or should be) the one place that a child knows that they can turn to no matter how bad things become. Parents are that last thrown life preserver in a child's life when stormy seas threaten to engulf them. In short, children need to know that when the chips are down, their parents are there for them.
On the other hand, there is much to be said for maintaining standards and expectations of a child. One example that Ms. Margolese brings is of a girl whose father would ask her in the morning if she davened. If she replied no, then he would tell her to go daven. However, since she was not particularly interested in davening, she would simply go up to her room, read for about half an hour, and then come back down and tell her father that she davened.
Now, as parents, I do believe that we have a right (and indeed a responsibility) to set standards and expectations for our children. We have an obligation to tell them what behavior is considered acceptable and which is not considered acceptable. Who among us wouldn't try to reprimand our teens if they were caught stealing? Certainly we would go about it in different ways -- one parent may try the "soft approach," another parent a stricter approach and yet another with a mixed message. Not all responses are valid or correct, of course, but we would all agree that *some* measures are called for. Only the most irresponsible parents would take no action at all.
Well, just as we impose standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam l'chaveiro (relationships between people), we also set standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam lamakom (relationships between man and God). When my children are older, they will have to know, for example, that I will not allow them to bring chametz into the house on Pesach. They will know that I expect them to daven and learn every day. I expect him not to sacrifice his little sister to Molech. In short, I expect a certain minimum commitment to the observance of the mitzvos. Of course, if he does more -- all the more power to him; but a minimum is expected. I believe that children need standards in order to achieve... and that applies to all realms, academic, behavioral, religious, extra-curricular, you name it.
Of course, the question then becomes how to express your expectations and make them stick without endangering the security of the child's knowledge of the parent's unconditional love. You can't just sit your kid down and tell him "Walter*, we expect you to do A, B and C, but even if you don't we still love you," because such a statement lacks the force that is necessary to tell the kid what you expect of him. It's weasly and wishy-washy.
Of course, as adults, we can separate love and approval as two separate concepts, but I'm not so certain that most adolescents can emotionally make that distinction. You can try to explain it to them, but I don't know if (at the younger ages of adolescence especially) they can really distinguish between the two. I can tell an adult that I may still love him or her even if I don't accept what they are doing. Heck, I love my mother, but I strongly disapprove of her life-long smoking habit. She knows my feelings on the matter of her smoking -- she has for a long, long time, but she also knows that I love her unconditionally. But if I ever (God forbid) caught my kid smoking (something I don't expect too -- I think we've well ingrained the anti-smoking message into our kids), I could probably tell him the same thing I tell my mother, but I don't think he'd react the same way - one is a teen and the other is nearing sixty. My mother is much, much more mature than my son - and can understand disapproval of an action much better than Walter can.
In the end, we don't want our children to go off the derech. I think that among those of us that are observant, having our children become observant is a major goal in life - if not (for some) the most important goal. But we don't want to create an atmosphere that is so overbearing that the child will rebel at the first opportunity. We want to infuse them with a Yiddishkeit that is positive, not negative. On the other hand, we don't want to give blanket approval for any and all behavior. Adoniyah turned out the way he did, the Navi tells us, because Dovid never bothered to correct him on his behavior. As usual, there has to be a happy medium somewhere in the middle. It's up to us to find that exact message.
The Wolf
* No, Walter isn't our son's name. But it is one of any number of nicknames that we sometimes call our kids.
One of the main points that Ms. Margolese makes early in the book is that people leave observant Judaism not because of intellectual issues (Science/Torah and the like), but primarily because of emotional issues. Adolescents can gain a negative emotional view of Judaism from parents, teachers, school administrators and friends. These factors together can contribute to a person's decision to "ditch" observance of the mitzvos as they get older - regardless of any belief in the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai or the Creation story as told in B'raishis (Genesis).
One of the factors that is brought up is the need of children to feel loved unconditionally. She brings a few anecdotes of people who felt that their parents' love for them was conditional on the level of their observance (whether that was actually the case or not). Because they felt that their parents wouldn't love them as much if they weren't observant, Judaism developed as a negative in their minds as adolescents and was (in their own admissions) a part of the reason that they strayed from observance of the mitzvos.
I can certainly understand the need for a child (including adolescents) to feel that they are loved without reservation. As a child, friends may come and go, teachers may be good one year and bad the next, this year's well-loved or well-hated principal may be out the door next year, but parents (barring the truly drastic of life events) are just about the only constants in a child's life. They are (or should be) the one place that a child knows that they can turn to no matter how bad things become. Parents are that last thrown life preserver in a child's life when stormy seas threaten to engulf them. In short, children need to know that when the chips are down, their parents are there for them.
On the other hand, there is much to be said for maintaining standards and expectations of a child. One example that Ms. Margolese brings is of a girl whose father would ask her in the morning if she davened. If she replied no, then he would tell her to go daven. However, since she was not particularly interested in davening, she would simply go up to her room, read for about half an hour, and then come back down and tell her father that she davened.
Now, as parents, I do believe that we have a right (and indeed a responsibility) to set standards and expectations for our children. We have an obligation to tell them what behavior is considered acceptable and which is not considered acceptable. Who among us wouldn't try to reprimand our teens if they were caught stealing? Certainly we would go about it in different ways -- one parent may try the "soft approach," another parent a stricter approach and yet another with a mixed message. Not all responses are valid or correct, of course, but we would all agree that *some* measures are called for. Only the most irresponsible parents would take no action at all.
Well, just as we impose standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam l'chaveiro (relationships between people), we also set standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam lamakom (relationships between man and God). When my children are older, they will have to know, for example, that I will not allow them to bring chametz into the house on Pesach. They will know that I expect them to daven and learn every day. I expect him not to sacrifice his little sister to Molech. In short, I expect a certain minimum commitment to the observance of the mitzvos. Of course, if he does more -- all the more power to him; but a minimum is expected. I believe that children need standards in order to achieve... and that applies to all realms, academic, behavioral, religious, extra-curricular, you name it.
Of course, the question then becomes how to express your expectations and make them stick without endangering the security of the child's knowledge of the parent's unconditional love. You can't just sit your kid down and tell him "Walter*, we expect you to do A, B and C, but even if you don't we still love you," because such a statement lacks the force that is necessary to tell the kid what you expect of him. It's weasly and wishy-washy.
Of course, as adults, we can separate love and approval as two separate concepts, but I'm not so certain that most adolescents can emotionally make that distinction. You can try to explain it to them, but I don't know if (at the younger ages of adolescence especially) they can really distinguish between the two. I can tell an adult that I may still love him or her even if I don't accept what they are doing. Heck, I love my mother, but I strongly disapprove of her life-long smoking habit. She knows my feelings on the matter of her smoking -- she has for a long, long time, but she also knows that I love her unconditionally. But if I ever (God forbid) caught my kid smoking (something I don't expect too -- I think we've well ingrained the anti-smoking message into our kids), I could probably tell him the same thing I tell my mother, but I don't think he'd react the same way - one is a teen and the other is nearing sixty. My mother is much, much more mature than my son - and can understand disapproval of an action much better than Walter can.
In the end, we don't want our children to go off the derech. I think that among those of us that are observant, having our children become observant is a major goal in life - if not (for some) the most important goal. But we don't want to create an atmosphere that is so overbearing that the child will rebel at the first opportunity. We want to infuse them with a Yiddishkeit that is positive, not negative. On the other hand, we don't want to give blanket approval for any and all behavior. Adoniyah turned out the way he did, the Navi tells us, because Dovid never bothered to correct him on his behavior. As usual, there has to be a happy medium somewhere in the middle. It's up to us to find that exact message.
The Wolf
* No, Walter isn't our son's name. But it is one of any number of nicknames that we sometimes call our kids.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
... And Then There Are Days...
... when we wish we seriously reconsider sending him away to high school. Ah, the "joys" of adolescence. :)
The Wolf
The Wolf
Monday, October 23, 2006
A Nice End to the Bar Mitzvah Se'udah
Last night was the Bar Mitzvah Se'udah of my oldest son. It was (if I may say so) a nice affair - the music was good, the number of people was small (by New York standards, anyway) and the food, as I was told, was delicious. Since no one likes to listen to speakers, we kept it at a minimum - I spoke for about four minutes and the Bar Mitzvah boy spoke for about five - and that was it. I spent some time at all the tables on the men's side and managed to spend "quality time" with just about all the guests.
The downside of that was that I really did not get a chance to eat too much. I ate part of one course with some friends, part of the barekas with family members, part of the main course with an old rebbe of mine from elementary school who I've kept in touch with (he was the Bar Mitzvah boy's sandek thireen years ago), and desert with my sister's father-in-law and his son-in-law (my brother-in-law's brother-in-law [or, as I like to say, my brother-in-law once removed]). But, in reality, I didn't eat much of anything.
By the time we got home, we were exhausted. Kaput - and it was only about 9:30 (we started earlier because we wanted to have kids at the se'udah and have people stay as long as possible). Not too much longer after we got home, I got into my sleeping attire (pajama bottoms and a T-shirt - don't ask) and was ready to settle in for the night. However, before I was going to do that, I was going to get something to eat - we brought home food and I was hungry!
Before we actually started eating, I asked my wife if Rabbi & Mrs. Neighbor were there, since I didn't see them. We were expecting them to come (Mrs. Neighbor had even done Eeees's makeup for the affair), but, in the end, neither one of us had seen them. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Before she even got up to answer the door, Eeees smiled and said "it's them." Sure enough, there they were at the door, dressed up, wishing us Mazel Tov. (I quickly threw on a pair of pants over my pajama bottoms!) They had another simcha to go to (a family vort,[engagement party] suddenly called) and apologized for not being there. We invited them in, offered them a chance to sit down. At that point, I said "Listen, I was about to eat something from the Bar Mitzvah since I really didn't get a chance to eat. Why don't you sit have something too?" So, we brought out the challah rolls, the barekas, the potatos and the chicken and served another meal. The Bar Mitzvah boy joined us as well. As we washed and started to eat, I remembered that the musician had given us a CD he recorded at the end of the affair; so I pulled it out and put it on the stereo. The Bar Mitzvah boy said his speech again and he and Rabbi Neighbor even danced for a while (I was all danced out by that point)!
Afterwards, we had dessert and bentched (how many Bar Mitzvah boys can say that they led in bentching twice on the night of their Bar Mitzvah se'udah?) and they went on home.
In truth, however, although I was ready to plotz before they came, that portion of the evening became one of the highlights of the day. It was nice to have a chance after all the hustle and bustle and greeting and shaking hands and music and photographers and everything else that went into it, to have a chance to sit down with friends and just have a simple pleasant meal. It definitely beat sitting in my pajamas in front of the TV with the chicken. We got to immediately reminisce some of the highlights of the evening and share and laugh about the good (if exhausting) time we had.
It was truly a nice end to the Bar Mitzvah day.
The Wolf
The downside of that was that I really did not get a chance to eat too much. I ate part of one course with some friends, part of the barekas with family members, part of the main course with an old rebbe of mine from elementary school who I've kept in touch with (he was the Bar Mitzvah boy's sandek thireen years ago), and desert with my sister's father-in-law and his son-in-law (my brother-in-law's brother-in-law [or, as I like to say, my brother-in-law once removed]). But, in reality, I didn't eat much of anything.
By the time we got home, we were exhausted. Kaput - and it was only about 9:30 (we started earlier because we wanted to have kids at the se'udah and have people stay as long as possible). Not too much longer after we got home, I got into my sleeping attire (pajama bottoms and a T-shirt - don't ask) and was ready to settle in for the night. However, before I was going to do that, I was going to get something to eat - we brought home food and I was hungry!
Before we actually started eating, I asked my wife if Rabbi & Mrs. Neighbor were there, since I didn't see them. We were expecting them to come (Mrs. Neighbor had even done Eeees's makeup for the affair), but, in the end, neither one of us had seen them. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Before she even got up to answer the door, Eeees smiled and said "it's them." Sure enough, there they were at the door, dressed up, wishing us Mazel Tov. (I quickly threw on a pair of pants over my pajama bottoms!) They had another simcha to go to (a family vort,[engagement party] suddenly called) and apologized for not being there. We invited them in, offered them a chance to sit down. At that point, I said "Listen, I was about to eat something from the Bar Mitzvah since I really didn't get a chance to eat. Why don't you sit have something too?" So, we brought out the challah rolls, the barekas, the potatos and the chicken and served another meal. The Bar Mitzvah boy joined us as well. As we washed and started to eat, I remembered that the musician had given us a CD he recorded at the end of the affair; so I pulled it out and put it on the stereo. The Bar Mitzvah boy said his speech again and he and Rabbi Neighbor even danced for a while (I was all danced out by that point)!
Afterwards, we had dessert and bentched (how many Bar Mitzvah boys can say that they led in bentching twice on the night of their Bar Mitzvah se'udah?) and they went on home.
In truth, however, although I was ready to plotz before they came, that portion of the evening became one of the highlights of the day. It was nice to have a chance after all the hustle and bustle and greeting and shaking hands and music and photographers and everything else that went into it, to have a chance to sit down with friends and just have a simple pleasant meal. It definitely beat sitting in my pajamas in front of the TV with the chicken. We got to immediately reminisce some of the highlights of the evening and share and laugh about the good (if exhausting) time we had.
It was truly a nice end to the Bar Mitzvah day.
The Wolf
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