being right

I was at the country club with 5 of my kids. That sentence is actually a little misleading. Country club sounds like an elite den of tennis-playing, tanned, bouncy wealthy individuals. In Israel, they call every gym/community center a country club. It does have its share of tanned exercise loving shiny people, but I didn't want to give the wrong idea of what brought me there. My kids take random classes there - pottery, soccer, zumba. While the three bigger ones do that, I let the 4 year old swim while I wrestle with the 11 month old to keep her from plunging into the pool. I could theoretically take her in also but that would involve me being wet, and in this rainy, chilly weather, that just feels deeply unappealing.  

So, I’m juggling the kids and my cell phone rings. I see its my oldest, home, off from the army. I had asked her to bring the kids here so I wouldn't have to deal with the two littles here - its one of the most draining 3 hour chunks of my week, and I was hoping to skip it. She had responded that with her bad PMS, she’d rather not. I sighed and accepted that. So, when I saw her name on the caller ID, I had a flash of hope that she was coming to switch spots and relieve me. “Ima, can you get me some pads?” Grrrr. I responded, basically, no way. Im juggling 5 kids including an overtired baby - there is no way Im walking into a store with them after this. I suggested she ask her boyfriend, who was hanging out with her and (presumably) not busy at the time. 

At home an hour later, I see her. I say something along the lines of, why would you call me when I’m out with 5 kids rather than asking your boyfriend who is not doing anything?? Granted, mega PMS time was probably not the best time to call her out on that particular point. But to be honest, I was far from at my best. I was drained and kind of bitter after having just endured two 8 day slots of my husband being abroad in one month. I had been fantasizing about his first day back being a relief, and it just wasn’t. Mostly because I didn’t ask and make that happen. (Will I never learn to ask for what I need rather than expecting him to know?? But thats an aside.) Anyway, cue the explosion. I am accused of resenting her having the nerve to ask me for something, she didn't know I was at the country club, clearly I have an issue with her boyfriend who isn't doing anything with his life, etc etc etc. Being, as I mentioned, not at my best, I yelled back. She stomps upstairs, and then, I was gifted with a strange moment of grace. I see my phone buzzing. There are 9 whatsapps waiting. Puzzled, I see that she accidentally sent me her ranting messages meant for her boyfriend, about me. 

Its a strange feeling, to see how your child speaks about you in her moment of intense emotion, to the one person in the world she trusts the most, the person she has basically replaced you with in her life - not precisely, but also not untrue. It was a mix of rage and shame that bubbled up inside of me. Was she right, was I trying to communicate my broad issues with her boyfriend through our fight? I didn't really think so. But, did it matter if I was right or wrong? Choosing to be right rather than to be loving was something Ive stumbled on in my parenting. It used to infuriate me that I could never win, never be right, no matter how I twisted and fought, in an argument with my dad. SO, unsurprisingly, I recreate that, only this time I get to come out on top. I’m aware of this, but it doesn't help in moments like these, where I pick up my cellphone with shaking hands, and write back, you are NOT RIGHT. 

Its the next day now. We still haven’t spoken. I know we will. I know we will talk this through, I know we will find an understanding, find peace. Neither of us are at an easy place in life, and we do have a deep bond - with a little time to calm down, we always always work through things. But my mind keeps going back to that moment, that little mistake. How do I not squander that? What do I do with that glimpse into her uncensored emotion? How do I use it to mother her better? Its a hard thing being the oldest, every single bump in the road, every single challenge, is brand new. She absolutely broke my heart wide open, changing my life forever, but its kind of wild to me that she continues to do that, with every new stage - she draws me into new waters entirely and forever. I don’t really know yet what to do with what she wrote. I guess, like every other new thing we’ve weathered, it will unfurl itself and make itself clearer with a little more time.

facebook christmas

The last time I lived in Israel, Christmas came and went without so much as a single wreath or Rudolph reference in my awareness. Fifteen years later, I'm feeling the holiday spirit. I’m seeing the sprinkle cookies, tinseled trees, the raw, too-bright festive smiles, with the concurrent grief of not having, in this time of everyone-everywhere having. 

I feel like I live in a million worlds all at once. 497 actually, to be exact. My Facebook feed colors my everyday perspective. I wake up to it and go to sleep with it. I kind of feel owned by it, to be honest. There is a long list of things I would love to do with my spare moments: read all the books, learn photography with the online course I bought on a black friday whim, do yoga, make more eye contact with my children, just be quiet and present. I know that i am not alone, probably by a factor of several million humans on earth that feel this way maybe. 

I’m grateful that I have a weekly 25 hour break in the form of the Jewish Sabbath, but somehow that doesn't translate to different choices during the week. I listened to a podcast yesterday while mopping my floor. They were talking about U-turns in life, about change. They quoted song lyrics: “no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, alright, yes.” It was so perfect that I had to smile. I guess I haven't hit enough “no’s” quite yet. Until then, it will have to be “ho ho ho” for now.