For the first five and a half years, my daughter, Gabby, was deeply attached to me. Anymore attached, the kid would have been back inside my womb. It was an intense kind of need that made any kind of…separation from me more dramatic than a Shakespearian play, and usually left both of us in tears; her from a fear of never seeing me again, and me from a powerful feeling of guilt and helplessness. I remember one incident, when she was 4, and she had a sleepover with another girl. Because I am… >> Read More
What a sweet idea, for my kids’ day school to invite the parents to come once a week for “parent tefillah,” to share morning prayers with our children.
My youngest, who had by first grade…outgrown the drop-off drama of day care and nursery school, loved for me and my husband to come to the classroom. In those first weeks of kindergarten, it was a beautiful shared moment. My daughter would sit on my lap and snuggle into me, as we sang together thanking God for this day. It brought… >> Read More
I'm not gonna lie. Dropping my son off at college sucked. Experienced friends warned me that they cried all the way home and I empathized, but doubted that would happen to me. I expected to tear up a…little hugging him goodbye and definitely cry while walking to the car, but then my husband and I would smile at each other, hold hands, and congratulate ourselves on a job well done as we drove home... Yeah, right. I've been preparing myself for this moment since he was 2 years old and starting preschool… >> Read More
With her wild, curly hair pulled back in a neat bun, and her pink tights, leotard, and ballet shoes in place, my little girl tapped her toes and lifted her arms in rhythm to the music of her first…ballet recital. At least, that's how it appeared from the video that my sister-in-law sent me and I watched on my iPhone while I attended a wedding two hours away. For four weeks I sat on a hard, cold bench in a stale waiting room listening to classical music coming from my 3-year-old's closed-door ballet… >> Read More
I come from a long line of very strong women. My dad used to tell me stories about his mom and the pants she wore as head of the household. There was a joke in the family that Great Grandma Yetta…overthrew the captain on the way to Ellis Island because she knew the best way to get to New York. I used to think this sense of drive or chutzpah was an East Coast or ethnic trait. Though as I grow older and wiser (cough cough), I have begun to realize that it’s just a… >> Read More