I have lived outside of the US since 2005. I've lived and worked in India, Afghanistan, Democratic Republic of Congo, Switzerland, and now, Cambodia. (How I arrived in Southeast Asia is a long story,…but the short version is that my husband and I started an international school here.) As I moved around the globe, the food culture of each country in which I lived influenced me. In Afghanistan, I got into a habit of drinking green tea at the office, and munching on yellow raisins and nuts, as… >> Read More
This week, on the darkest day of the year so far, I found comfort in the dark drive home with my kids up a long hilly street in our neighborhood. As we drove higher and higher up the hill, the…Christmas lights became more abundant and spectacular, dotting a sea of blackness with color and zigzag designs. It looked magical. It felt hopeful. The lights buoyed my spirits. I didn't always feel that way. Growing up, I absolutely hated Christmas. Everything about it — the music, the commercials, the "holiday" specials, the colors red and… >> Read More
This time of year is more complicated for me than I’d like. I’m Jewish and my husband isn’t. That’s a pretty common story in the US. It’s more common that not, actually; according to the…2013 Pew Research Center’s Religion & Public Life Project, the intermarriage rate among American Jews is 58 percent Here’s the tricky bit: This is my second marriage, I have two kids from my first marriage, and so does my husband. We were married in June of 2016, which is also the year that all six… >> Read More
One month ago, I was two months pregnant with my second child. Despite being constantly nauseous, I was overjoyed with all the possibilities of bringing another life into this world. I imagined…sharing this news with our family and friends at the end of Hanukkah when I would be completing my first trimester. My world felt full of potential. Three weeks ago, at our first appointment with the doctor, we received the crushing news that there was no heartbeat. Although my body was working on overdrive to… >> Read More
When my children were small, it wasn’t easy to stop by my mother’s house for Hanukkah.
Instead of menorahs and dreidels, my Holocaust survivor mother filled her house with Christmas tchotchkes.…A small tree. Some type of light up garland painstakingly strung around the family room, certainly a fire hazard. A dusty stuffed Santa Claus pulled out every year, in a sleigh intended to hold Christmas cards and, indeed, filled with Christmas cards from her old real estate clients, all of whom thought she was Christian.… >> Read More