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Jun 13 2014

Teaching My Little Girls Tolerance With “My Little Boy”

By at 11:32 am

my-little-boy

“Could you read us another chapter? Could you?” Miri asked.

I had just finished reading the second to last chapter of “My Little Boy” to my kids for their bedtime story, but they wanted more; clearly they were as in love with the boy in the story as I was with the boy’s father.

After hearing a version of the book performed by Orson Welles, I had to read it, and after reading it, I reread it. What was it about this book that made it so compelling, so magical? And why am I reading this adult book to my kids? Read the rest of this entry →

Jun 12 2014

The Questions I Forgot To Ask My Dad

By at 3:53 pm

sarah-rudolph-dad

It’s ironic that most of my childhood memories of my father involve conversation, yet the big family joke is that he never really talked.

What we mean by the tease is that he was never one to open up and share his thoughts and feelings. If we wanted to know how his day of teaching went, or what he liked to do in his spare time, or how he felt when he lost his mother at the age of 14, or whether he believed in God, we would have to pry it out of him.

Yet, I was always talking with my father. A philosopher through and through, he challenged my thinking at every turn. Read the rest of this entry →

Feb 18 2014

My Daughter Wants To Know Who Her Father Is

By at 3:58 pm

mother-daughter

I knew this day would come. Huddled under the covers with her favorite pink teddy bear, while in-between stories about faraway lands and enchanted princesses, she turns her whole self away from me and asks: “Mommy, who’s my daddy?”

Oh God, not that. Anything but that.

I think about the perfect portrayal of Prince Charming in the book we just read and I wish I had my own fairy godmother here right now to wave her magic wand and poof–give me all the right answers.

How do you tell a little girl who hasn’t seen her father in over three years that the man she wouldn’t recognize if she met him on the street lives only 15 minutes away? How do you describe the guy who locked his own child out of his home, changed the locks and never looked back?

You don’t. Read the rest of this entry →

Oct 4 2012

“Hey Kiddo, I’m Your Dad”

By at 9:23 am
Boaz Harel

Boaz and his daughter

I can clearly remember the first time I made a decision as a parent. It was around 1:30 am on October 22, 2011, the night my daughter was born.

I had just arrived at the nursery of the hospital, pushing in front of me a little rolling cradle with an incredibly tiny new person inside. Mine, they told me, though she definitely felt alien.

I had held her in my arms and welcomed her into the world not fifteen minutes earlier, but somehow it still didn’t feel real. I guess after 30 hours without sleep, nothing really does. I had actually wanted to simply carry my child to the nursery in my arms, but the hospital wouldn’t have it. The delivery rooms were on the eighth floor, and the nursery on the third, and they weren’t taking any chances on new parents dropping their kids on the way down. Annoying, but I had to concede the point. Read the rest of this entry →

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