Years ago, while reading Judy Blume’s “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret,” I waited for my period to arrive so that I could enter womanhood. A few dozen periods later, I began to realize…that menstruation, the accompanying hormonal fluctuations, cramping, and PMS were not as glorious as Margaret and I imagined it to be. Over the following years, my period would be a reminder that I was a fertile, yet unpregnant woman. After marriage, it would become the disappointing end to another month of trying to conceive. Eventually,… >> Read More
I work full-time. Well, more than full-time really. I’m the primary wage earner in our house and, often, my weeks end in a blazing fury of activity so that I can make it out of my office in time to…meet the school bus on Friday afternoons. The kids rollick in the door and, depending on the weather and their mood, I prepare Shabbat dinner to a soundtrack of slamming doors as they come in and out, giggling and playing or, on a bad week, waging sibling battles that descend into a vortex of screaming… >> Read More
We had just spent the day at Disney World, and our overexcited 16-month-old daughter was crying hysterically. She couldn’t stop screaming, the tears streaming down her face, barely catching her…breath to pause, only to let out more hysterical shrieks. I checked and changed her diaper, offered a new fresh bottle, bathed her, undressed her, put on fresh clothes, put on the TV, but nothing worked. An frantic hour passed by, and then another, and another, while my husband and I desperately tried to stop her… >> Read More
Two years ago at this time, I was a wreck. I was staring down my daughter’s graduation from preschool with a desire to stop time. But stopping–or even slowing–time has never been my forte and…so Ellie eventually stood on the bimah and sang, “Kindergarten, here we come” as I bawled loudly, emphasis on loudly. I mean, people took pictures of me because I made that much of a spectacle. (It’s possible I had also been a wreck about sending her to preschool in the first place. There’s clearly a… >> Read More
“Mom, I don’t believe in God,” my daughter confesses to me in the 10th row of our conservative synagogue on Saturday, six weeks before her bat mitzvah.
We have spent weeks planning the…reception with a Rock 'n' Roll theme. We sent out the invitations, created the website, pored over her dvar-torah remarks, and now she tells me she doesn't believe in God! For the last five years, we've faithfully attended Shabbat services, volunteered on the membership committee, and stocked the food pantry. I sent her to religious school, bat… >> Read More