The hottest gifts for her

I was reading the news just now, and I stumbled upon the article "The hottest gifts for her." Being holiday season, it is not surprising. Everybody is looking for the perfect gift. Only this article listed the lamest things. Or at least they appeared so to me. Here are some of their suggestions:

- 5 types of jewelry (I am not much of a jewerly person)
- Perfume (I already have more than enough)
- Some technology stuff, like iPod (I hate new gismos)
- 3 types of slippers (one pair is quite enough for me)
- Some clothing (I hate when people give me clothes. They are never my style)

When you are buying a present, it helps if you put some thought into it and actually find out what a person may like. Don't buy it just because it's on "The hottest gifts this season" list. For example, clothes are almost always a bad idea because even if you are someone's best friend or partner finding the perfect fit (in size and in style) is almost impossible. Same goes for jewelry and perfume. If you fancy your gift to be a piece of clothing, get a gift card to a clothing store. Things like books, music, and techno gadgets will only be appreciated if you know a person's taste in them. And don't forget to get a gift receipt, just in case (afterall, a person may already have a copy of that book). Kitchen appliances are not my style of gifts, although a luxury item like an espresso machine or some fancy wine glasses may be a good idea. Frying pans and vegetable steamers are not (those take away "holiday" from a holiday gift). And remember, a gift does not have to be an actual thing.

Here is my suggestion of gifts that no woman will frown upon:

1. Breakfast in bed
2. A few hours of uninterrupted shopping
3. A few hours away from the kids to do what she pleases
4. A few hours with kids playing her favorite family game or doing her favorite family activity
5. A day in a spa
6. A warm scarf
7. A bottle of her favorite wine
8. A romantic dinner (in a restaurant or at home prepared by her sweetheart)
9. A gift card from a shoe store
10. A CD of her favorite singer or band, or her favorite music mix

Happy shopping and happy holiday season to all!

You have a teenage boy if

1. His room looks like your city just suffered a massive earthquake.

2. Nobody cares if he goes to a birthday party wearing a dirty shirt and sweatpants.

3. Whatever his friends are listening to / watching / reading / wearing / eating must be immediately listened to / watched / read / worn / eaten by him.

4. He will be scarred for life if he is the last one of his friends to get a cell phone, iPad, e-mail, and facebook.

5. He will be scarred for life if you approach him while he is socializing with his friends.

6. The younger sibling(s) is ruining his life and must be sent to a foster home.

7. Homework is done at the last possible moment, preferably 10 minutes before he leaves for school on a day it's due.

8. He would rather have a spider crawling down his skin than accept a sign of affection from you.

9. If a suggestion, solution, or advice is coming from you, it must be so lame it's embarrassing to even listen.

10. You do not and cannot possibly understand what his generation is going through because obviously you have never been a teen, or most likely you are simply too dumb.

The excommunication of Jules Verne

When I was a child, my father would occasionally suggest books for me to read. The works of Herbert Wells, Alexandre Dumas, Jules Verne, Arthur Conan-Doyle, as well as some books by russian authors, were all suggested by my father. I always took my father's advice and was never disappointed. He knew which books to pick for me, and I enjoyed every one of them.

Drawing from this experience, I often suggest books for my children to read. Only so far, they have been less than receptive to my advice. The works of Astrid Lindgren, "The Little Prince", and "Alice in Wonderland" were outright rejected by my first-born when he was younger, and now by my younger son as well. I don't know how they can not like these books. Only they don't. They don't even give them a chance, and if they agree to listen, it's only for a couple of pages, immediately declaring the book not worth their time.

I gave up for a while, and let my kids choose the books they want to read. But I still don't want them to miss the experience of reading the books I enjoyed as a child. I figured that my older son is now old enough to read Jules Verne, and given his love of science, I think he would enjoy the science fiction, so I suggested that he picked up a book by Jules Verne. That's when I became, again, a completely uncool, controlling, and pretty much the worst mother in the whole world. He doesn't want to read 200-year-old books, I don't understand what kids his age are reading, and he has a complete right to pick the books he wants to read without consulting me.

But does he? I am bigger and wiser, I've read the books I am recommending, I enjoyed them, and I know he would enjoy them too if he just gives them a chance. The only reason why he doesn't want to read Jules Verne is because nobody in his class has even probably heard of this author, and my son wants to read what his peers are reading. Rick Riordan has replaced Jules Verne.

That's not good enough for me. I KNOW what his peers are reading. I also know what they SHOULD BE reading. I am not banning Rick Riordan. There is enough time for both him and Jules Verne. But my son set his mind on not even trying. I think this is wrong. Is it worth the fight? There are not many russians who have not read "20 thousand leagues under the sea", or "War of the worlds", or "Three musketeers", or "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" in their teen years. But there is probably a majority of americans who did not, and they turned out just fine. If I give up the fight, my children will be a part of the majority. But is the fight worth the reward?

When kids grow older, there are so many things to fight about, and they are all serious. There is curfew. There are chores. There is homework. There are clothes they wear. There is language they use. The list is endless. At the end of the day, you feel like the relationship with your pre-teen has become a constant fight. There seems to be absolutely nothing you can agree on. Must books they read be another thing to fight about? How important is it, really, as long as they are reading?

I am torn. I don't want to seem mean and controlling any more than I already am. But I also don't want my children to miss the experience of reading wonderful books just because their peers are not reading them. I am not ready to give up the fight. But because I don't feel that it's right to impose punishment in this case, and my power of persuasion does not seem to be working, I think it's going to be a long fight without winners.

Reruns

In our family, we like to watch reruns of our favorite TV shows. My husband loves Sienfield. He watched every episode at least 5 times. My favorite is "Married with children." I know every episode by heart. And recently, I've been watching reruns of "Friends" at the end of each day. For some reason, I don't get bored with reruns.

Sometimes, I look back at my life and feel that there were some days so great that I want to re-live them. The day of my first kiss. The day I got engaged. My wedding day. The days my children were born. I remember all of these days as if they happened yesterday, and I feel so sad that they are behind me now and they can't happen again. In life, things are only meant to happen once. It's sad that you can't re-live them. But remembering them makes you feel warm and comfortable, like watching reruns of your favorite TV show.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I am thankful for all those wonderful days that I so want to re-live. I am so blessed to have had them. And I wish to all of my friends to have many more days that they will look back at maybe when they are 85, and feel blessed that once these days happened to them.

To my father

We are friends with a family that have a son and a little 4-year-old daughter. They are very loving parents, and when I observe the father interacting with his little daughter, it reminds me a lot of me and my father when I was four. My father was my favorite person in the world. He played with me, he took me to the park and pushed the swings, he taught me how to read, he gave me medicine when I was sick. I was a happy child.

Fast-forward to teen years, it all came to an end. My father suddenly became too pushy, too opinionated, too judgemental, too protective, too controlling. He wasn't a favorite anymore - quite opposite, I avoided his company. Being an angry teenager, looking desperately for attention of my peers and not always getting it, I aimed my anger at my parents. My father wasn't understanding. Yes, he wanted the best for me, but he went all wrong about it most of the time.

I never completely repaired my relationship with my father. Being as opinionated, as judgemental, and as controlling as him, it is hard for two of us to be friends. We fight a lot, and I blame him for a lot of things. I blame him for not understanding me and disregarding my opinion, now as well as back when I was a teenager.

I think about this as my 11-year-old, from being an affectionate and loving child, is becoming more distant and rebellious over the past few weeks. He refuses any signs of affection, he doesn't tell me anything about himself, he refuses to come near me when he is in school. And that reminds me of the way I was when I became a teen. And I wonder: is it just a stage that he will outgrow, or is it because I am too pushy, too judgemental, too opinionated and too protective, and our relationship is beyond repair? What will my son remember when he grows up: me reading books with him in bed and walking around the neighborhood counting pumpkins when he was two, or my nagging about cleaning his room, not letting him watch TV to his heart content, monitoring his computer use...

I am repeating my father's mistakes. Inheriting many traits of his character, I can't help it. I am not the world's most understanding mother, and I am not the world's most grateful daughter. But as I am getting older, and seeing people from older generations leave this world, I consider myself lucky. Every day when I wake up, before starting to complain to G-d about all those things I don't have (and believe me, I complain to G-d a lot) I thank him for having my father. For keeping him relatively healthy and relatively close. I know many people who are not that lucky, but I am, and I thank G-d for that. I owe my father a lot for being the person I have become. And even as he did a few things wrong, he also did a lot of things right. And most importantly, he loved me, and that's the best gift. He gave me love that I can now pass to my kids. He made me the parent I am. Too pushy, too judgemental, too opinionated, too protective, but extremely loving. I hope my kids one day will see that love right through all that other stuff. Just as I see my father.

Thoughts after Yom Kippur

I knew a person once who was an atheist. He used to say: "People use G-d as a crutch. Whenever they can't decide or explain something they turn to G-d for help."

I was discussing some religious issues with my best friend yesterday, and amazingly, she almost said the same thing, even though she never met the above-mentioned guy. She said: "You use religion because you are facing a difficult decision, and you want someone else to make it for you. So you turn to a religious text and try to find a "message" there that applies to your situation."

And so it is - non-believers think that living a religious life is much easier than being a non-believer. Sure, whenever you want something, you pray to G-d. Whenever you face a difficult decision, you turn to a religious text and try to find an answer. You never have an ethical dilemma, because all the ethics comes from your religion, and whenever you blindly follow it, you feel fine. Being religious is easy. It's when you don't have a "higher authority" to guide you, everything kind of falls on your own shoulders. No crutches.

For me, it's the other way around. I can't count the times when I wished I could be a non-believer. There is nobody to answer to when you "miss the mark", as we say on Yom Kippur. It's like working with no boss. You miss the deadline - nobody cares. You turned in a sloppy report - no big deal, nobody will read it anyway. You are doing a bad job - it's a customer's problem, let him figure it out, and if he doesn't you fix it later. There is nobody to check on your work. It's easy. It's a presence of a boss that makes most people disciplined. Not all of them of course - some do not need a boss to be responsible. But many do need an authority to check on them.

So it is with religion. It would be so much easier to live your life without fear of judgement. Or punishment, whenever we "miss the mark". Every religion has its own ideas about punishment. Christians believe in hell. I don't believe in hell. I am more afraid of punishment in this life. Especially when you are not punished directly, but indirectly, through your loved ones. That's the worst kind of punishment. Especially when you can't even explain why you are being punished. It doesn't really matter - you know you are not perfect, you must've missed the mark at some point, but it would be easier if you could see the logic behind it somehow. Like when you eat too much, you get high cholesterol and all that comes with it. That's non-religious way. It's easy and logical. G-d doesn't work this way. That's why bad things happen to good people. G-d makes things happen and doesn't explain why. It makes sense to Him. It often doesn't make sense to us.

That's why, when making a difficult decision, I agonize about it - I am answerable to a "higher authority." I can't take it just because I want it so badly. I can't take it just because it's there. Am I allowed to have it? Do I deserve to have it? Will my decision ruin somebody's life? If I make the wrong decision, will I get punished, maybe not right away, but later, down the road? Will my loved ones get hurt? It would be much easier if I believed that bad things just happened randomly and I did nothing to bring them on whatsoever. Not so - I know that when bad things happen, I will spend all my time thinking that it was somehow, someway my fault.

And so it is, my friends the non-believers. G-d is not a crutch. It's a never-sleeping eye that follows you everywhere. It's a teacher that constantly gives you problems to think about. It's a judge that punishes you for the wrong moves you make. It's not easy to live with that kind of authority, so you my friends choose to ignore it, and your only moral authority is yourselves. When nobody is watching, "missing the mark" doesn't matter.

The blessing of "Yes"

When my children were babies, I often heard how important it is for them to understand the word "no" as early as possible. In fact, many parents think that "no" is the most important concept for babies to understand. "No", - they yell as their 8-month-old reaches out for an expensive wine glass, a neighbor's dog, or a mommy's book. Some babies are even unlucky enough to get their fingers hit by a parent for whom the concept of "no" is paramount. What would the neighbors think if their child does not learn the word "no" at 6 months and will grow into a disobedient toddler?

I never thought that my babies should learn the meaning of "no" until they are ready. I created a safe word around them where they had time and space to explore safely. Expensive china, parents' books, breakable things and dangerous "chocking hazard" toys were stored far away, and the floor was covered with interesting and safe things to marvel at - bouncy balls, rubber books, wooden blocks, plastic containers of different sizes. When they became toddlers, I enjoyed filling my children's spaces with things that I can safely say "go ahead" to - water-color paints, chalk, old clothes, salt and sugar to be mixed with water for chemical experiments, pebble stones. I reserved my "no" for dangerous situations and used it sparingly. I was not a dog trainer - I was a parent, and it was my responsibility to make my children's space safe, not theirs to learn what they cannot touch. That would come in due time. Boy, was I a happy and proud parent back in those days.

Fast-forward to now. What happened to my sweet and (mostly) obedient toddlers? Fighting, swearing, name-calling and whining often dominate our lives, and so do consequences for bad behavior. "No ice-cream!" "No TV!" "No playdate!" I often feel like an animal trainer instead of a parent. And every time I say "no" I feel bad. And sad. And punished, even more than my children are. "Can I have a Facebook account?" "Can I have a cell-phone?" "Can I watch this totally inappropriate movie?" No, no, no. The world of pre-teens, and most probably (this is still to come) teens is full of "no". And it's not surprising. They are pushing the limits, you are trying to keep them safe. It's just like when they were toddlers. Only back then I knew how to keep their world safe without constantly saying "no". Now I don't know anymore. It's so sad.

This is why, every time I can say "Yes" to my children's request, my heart fills with joy. When they are not fighting, I can't refuse them anything. No punishments to enforce. Yes, we can stop for ice cream. It's ok to have a playdate. You can have a half hour of extra TV time. Yes, you can go to bed 15 minutes later. No, you still cannot have a Facebook account. But all those small things that I can say "yes" to make my day.

I am often afraid that when my kids grow up all they will remember is all these "no" that they are subjected to every minute of the day. I really want things to change. Yes, I still need to enforce consequences for bad behavior. But meanwhile, an unexpected trip to a theme park, an interesting book from a library waiting at his desk, a surprise toy or a game from a toy store or a few extra dollars they can spend as they see fit make family life so much more like... family, not a dog obedience school. And I can't wait until I can say "Yes" to a Facebook account. I don't know which one of us will be happier - he for finally getting it or me for saying another "Yes, you may".

The power to listen

We have a new family member. His name is Yaari. Well, he is not actually our family member - he is a new kid in my older son's class. But as much as I keep hearing about him in recent days, he might as well move in with us.

- Yaari had a D on his test again today.

- I don't care about the grades of other kids. I only care about yours. And so should you.

- But he is the worst student in class. He never answers any questions. He only draws. And he is not even good at that.

- I don't care. You should not pay attention to what other kids do in class.

- But they always put me with him, and he always asks me questions.

- If he is distracting, you should talk to the teacher.

- He never does anything when our team does a project, and then takes credit for it.

- You should resolve it with the teacher. If you can't, I can talk to the teacher for you.

- No! I don't want to be a cry-baby.

- Ok, then I won't hear more about Yaari.

Next day, the Yaari conversation begins again. Finally, yesterday I've had enough. "If I hear one more word about Yaari, I am writing a note to the teacher and solving this problem," - I snap. "No! I won't talk about him anymore, I promise," - my son replies.

That was a mistake. I only realized it today. I shut off my son's ability to vent about a problem that is obviously bothering him.

How many times do we come home from work and complain to our spouse about a nasty boss, a lazy coworker, a nosy friend? We know our partner can't help, and we don't want any help. All we want is a sympathetic ear and an ability to vent. We often feel that if we keep our problem to ourselves, we would explode. So we need to let it out. All we need from a spouse, a friend, or a parent, is to listen. No help. No advise. No judgement. Just patient listening. And when we let off steam, we feel grateful, and we feel better.

Why, then, when our kids come to us with a problem, we feel a strong desire to interfere? They have a problem, so they must need an advise, or help, or a note to a teacher, or a tutor. They need our help in some way. Is it a parent's instinct to always rush to the rescue? When they are little, and they have a problem, most of the time they do need your help. But the more they grow up, the more situations arise when you can't help. And even if you can, you shouldn't. "Helicopter parenting" only makes problems worse.

When a child comes to you with a problem, make time to listen. Stop what you are doing or suggest another more convenient time when you can give him your full attention. Listen and think if he really needs you to interfere, or he simply wants to let off steam. Depending on the situation, offer help or suggest how your child can solve the problem himself. And if he refuses your suggestion, don't immediately rush with another one. He may not have wanted a suggestion. He may simply have wanted a sympathetic ear, or a shoulder to cry on. If he feels better after talking to you, your job is done.

I now know how hard it can be to listen to the same problem over and over again and not being able to do anything about it. But it is important to recognize when you have to listen, and do so. Afterall, we don't appreciate it when we come to our spouse with our problems, and he looks bored, or uninterested, or simply cuts us off because it's a 100th time he listens to the same problem and he can't help. I need to reassess the Yaari situation. Shutting my son out is not a good solution, no matter how irritating it is to listen to the same complains every day.

My first Bar Mitzvah

Today I attended my first Bar Mitzvah. And not a minute too soon, considering that my older son will be having one in a little over a year. Bar Mitzvah ceremony is so important it's often referred to by the Jews as a "wedding". I needed to see how it was done, and I've never even been at one before until today.

We've known Jonathan's parents for a while. My husband took college classes with his father, Avi. When my husband introduced me to him and his wife, Marcia, I liked them immediately, which is saying a lot because I am usually slow to warm up to new people. Marcia is a delightful woman. She always has a lot to say, to share, or to add to the conversation. Even our social differences - her being somewhat liberal, and me being a lot more conservative - do not take away from the pleasure of communicating with her. She is 10 years older then me, which made me even more proud to be considered her friend. Before, I've never had a friend who was so much older (and wiser).

When Marcia got pregnant, she decided not to find out the sex of the baby before its birth. Her husband did want to know, so they decided that he would find out and not tell her. It did not work out very well because at the end she did find out. After she knew she was having a boy, whenever we saw them, we discussed the baby names, and her heart was set on Jonathan.

We first met Jonathan at our wedding, where he arrived in the hands of his father (my husband's best man), being 1-month old. When our first-born was having a bris, the rabbi asked what his Hebrew name was. Being terribly ignorant of Jewish tradition, we did not even know we were supposed to pick a Hebrew name for our son! We picked the only one we knew - Avishai, Jonathan's father's name. So far we love it, and it even starts with the same letter as his secular name, but it was totally spontaneous.

I was sitting in the synagogue listening to Jonathan deliver his speech, but even more attentively listening to his parents speak. Boy, do I need to start working on my speech. It's so important, and I am a terrible public speaker. I am already nervous. But Jonathan's parents do a great job, and so does he. He is growing up into a wonderful young man. Mazal Tov, Jonathan. Grow healthy, and make your parents proud.

Serious business

I am now a mother of a middle-schooler. This is a serious business.

We have to buy our own school supplies (which I know most people do starting from Kindergarten, but we've never actually done it before). And this is serious. Everything has to be just right - binders, notebooks, pencils.

We also now have to deal with the lockers, learning how to open them, get the right stuff out, close them and get into the right classroom, all in 3 minutes. Then there is this business of remembering which classroom we have to be in.

And this is just academic stuff. There is more.

There is the fact that most of the classmates now have cell phones, and even though they are not allowed until classes are over, the minute they are over the phones are out and texting begins. This was such a problem in the first few school days that parents started a debate whether 6th-graders should be even allowed to have cell phones. It was serious.

And most importantly: "There was a revolution today. 3 boys went and sat with the girls during recess. No dares or anything, they just went and sat there." Revolution. That was the exact word that was used. Of course my son was not a part of the "revolution", but I had to tell him a secret - in a few months, he probably will be.

Last night, it was Back-to-school night for middle-school parents. Since it was my first time as a middle-school mom, I, along with other first time middle-school parents, felt exactly like our kids felt at their first middle school day. We were all given a schedule of which room we have to be in at what time to meet with a teacher, and bewildered parents run all over the school started. Each teacher was given exactly 7 minutes to say whatever the hell she wanted to say, which meant that as soon as a teacher got to the 3d sentence a polite voice from above told us that this particular conference is over and we need to move to the next room. Needless to say there was no time for questions, remarks or concerns. But there sure was a lot of running around. By the end of the night I felt like I just run a marathon, and I didn't have an opportunity to ask why middle-schoolers are not learning geography. This was not a good way to conduct a Back-to-school night. I don't know exactly how it might have been done differently, but I definitely know that wasn't it.

Most 6th-grade parents are scared and concerned, especially those for whom it's their first child entering middle school. How is their little offspring handling it? Does he know what he needs for each particular subject? Does he know what room he is supposed to be in at any given moment? Does he have time to get there? (There is a penalty for tardiness).

I don't worry so much. When I was in school, our middle school format began not in 6th, but in 4th grade. We also had a lot more subjects. We didn't just have science. We had physics, chemistry, and biology, all in different rooms, all with a different teacher. We also had geography. We had grammar and literature, separately. We also had a foreign language. That's a lot of subjects. And a lot of homework.

Yesterday, my son's advisor was concerned about homework. "Be sure to record how much a child spends doing homework, and be sure to let us know if it's more than an hour and a half, because that's too much." Yeah, I wish my teachers were that concerned. I did my homework for at least 2 hours every day, and I was a straight A student, it was easy for me. There was just a lot of it. So far, I have not seen my son spending more than 15 minutes doing his homework. Something must be wrong there, it's middle school. Am I not paying attention? This is serious.

Only now do I understand how easy it was to be a parent in elementary school. There was only one teacher (or rather 2 working as a team) to deal with, only one set of rules. I had no idea when my child did his homework, but I knew that it was done. I was also quite sure that by the end of 3rd grade he knew all his elementary school curriculum, and although it was not such a good thing, I didn't have to worry about him falling behind. Now, it's different. I have to pay more attention to what he is studying and when. Every day I need to check what he is doing in each subject. I need to worry about grades - but I don't, at least for now. I need to worry about long-term projects. And most importantly, I have to worry about the revolution. That is very serious.

The end of an era

My son finally decided to quit gymnastics. He's been doing it for 6 years, and he is finally ready, although I am not sure that I am. I am so used to him doing it, and we had so much fun competing last year, that I am not sure that I want him to quit. But it is his decision, and he decided that practicing 4 times a week, 3.5 hours per practice is not the kind of commitment he wants to make.

I always knew that at some point this would happen. Every time the coaches increased practice time, my husband said that he was putting his foot down, it's too much and it's time to stop. I always said that it's not our decision, and if Mark wants to continue, we should go with it. Some day, I said, he will say that it's too much and he doesn't want to do it anymore. That day is today.

I can't help being a little disappointed. Even though you know it's the right decision, you can't help being disappointed when you invested so much time, effort and money in your child's activity. You can't help wondering what he could have achieved should he stay with it. But I always said it was going to be Mark's decision when to stop, and I am not backing out now, despite my own feelings. I am not pushing him. I am giving him a week to think about it, to make sure that's what he wants. If he doesn't change his mind before the week is over, that's the end of gymnastics.

I am sure he had a great time doing gymnastics, and it's done wonders for his health and strength. Now we have to find a sport that will be as satisfying and as good for him as gymnastics had been. I am sure in the back of his mind, my son has plans for his newly found free time - more playdates, more TV time, more computer games. I have other plans - more reading time, continuing with Russian grammar, alternative sports, more reasonable dinner and bed time, and of course some play time too. So long gymnastics. We'll miss you.

Can G-d tell time?

Science tells me there is a God,
my mind tells me I will never
understand God, and my heart
tells me I am not meant to.
--Dan Brown

Yesterday I was watching "Curiosity" program on Discovery channel with my kids. The point of the program was to prove that there is no possible way that G-d have created the Universe. So they involved arguments like negative energy, quantum mechanics and the fact that Universe once was an infinitely small black hole where there was no time, therefore G-d could not have existed because there was no time for him to exist in.

Anybody buying this? Don't get me wrong, it was interesting to watch, but not terribly convincing. For starters, even if we suppose that the Universe was once an infinitely small black hole (which they didn't bother proving, just threw it out there for the sake of argument) and there was no time, I don't think that would be a big obstacle for G-d to exist. As far as I am concerned, G-d doesn't need time to exist. People need time, but as for G-d I am not so sure. For all we know G-d might have created time before he created the Universe. Or after. Who knows?

I am curious at which point in time people started believing that they have it all figured out. They know how (and when) the Universe was created, they know when life begins (apparently after a child finishes medical school), they know what happens after we die (apparently nothing). People have no problem believing that a huge random explosion created something so complex and so perfect as the Universe but have terribly hard time accepting that there is something out there that is so intelligent and so powerful that they will never understand it. They are not meant to. Geniuses like Newton and Einstein believed that such power existed and they, the geniuses, were put on this Earth only to scratch the surface of understanding how this power operates. But an average Joe from San Francisco has it all figured out. Big Bang. Explanation over.

I am not anti-science. In fact, I am fascinated by scientific discoveries, especially in astronomy. I am just not a big believer in a Big Bang theory, as well as in Evolution theory. Theories that throw out the intelligence behind creation and building it on random events give me pause. The Universe is too logical and too beautiful to operate by random chance. And we, with all of our vast knowledge that we accumulated over the thousands of years, are only at the very beginning of understanding the intelligence behind the Universe. But we will never understand this intelligence until we are ready to accept it. Newton, Descartes, Einstein and Leibniz did accept it. Why can't we?

Charity drives and time share presentations

I got a call from a charity drive this morning. "Hello, this is a Breast Cancer Society. We know you gave donations to us before and we appreciate that. Would you be kind enough to donate this year? We'll send you a card with the pledge. Would you prefer $100 or $200?"

It's actually my son who is very interested in helping people with cancer, so he gives donations every now and then from his own money to cancer charities. That's how they have my number. My son is at camp right now, and I am sure he would be happy to help again, but $100 sounds way too steep for an 11-year-old. "We can't afford to give this much" - I replied. "We understand" - the lady on the other end says - "how about a card for $30?" That sounds more reasonable. However, I feel strange that a donation drive actually bargains with you. Regardless, I say: "ok, we can do that." "Great" - the lady replies - "let me put my supervisor on the phone so she can verify your information." The supervisor comes on. "Would you like to use your Visa today?" - she asks, instead of verifying my information. What happened to the card with the pledge? It's my son who will be giving the donation, and I want him to see what it's for and feel good about the good thing he is doing. "I would prefer to receive a card and send a check" - I say. "This would be very inconvenient. Is there a reason you don't want to use your Visa?" What business is it of yours? Shouldn't you be grateful for the donation no matter how I give it? "I'd prefer to receive a card and send a check" - I insist. I hear the disappointment on the other side. "Ok, but when you receive your card, would you please send your donation within 2 days?"

Since when charity drives turned into timeshare presentations? "I have a wonderful 3-bedroom house for you for only $10,000 a month. You can't afford it? It's ok, I have a much better deal - a 1-bedroom for $2,000. You still refuse? Ok, you can go, but you need to talk to my supervisor first." Sounds familiar? This is exactly how I felt today talking on the phone. What happened to receiving an envelope in the mail with a letter describing what the charity does, asking for whatever you can give and thanking you for your generosity and your time? When did charity drives start pushing and bargaining? What did I miss? I feel very uncomfortable about this whole thing and I am sure this is the last time I (or any of my family members) gives a donation to charity that behaves this way.

In 10 minutes the phone rings again.
- "Hello, this is a Cancer Society. Would you be comfortable with a $100 donation?"
- "I am sorry, I just got off the phone with another Cancer Society and I already pledged a donation."
- "And we appreciate that. Would you be comfortable with a $15 donation?"
- "No, I am sorry, I am afraid we already donated all that we could this year. Good bye." - I don't want to waste my time talking to a supervisor.

The age before puberty

Today my son has his end of the year party. It's an annual tradition - every year their class has end of the year swim party. This year, however, is different. Today, they will not only be swimming - there also will be a dance. His first dance party to celebrate graduation from elementary school. Alex is absolutely oblivious to the fact that today he will be having his first "adult" party - it's an absolutely ordinary Sunday for him, and he is much more excited about his summer internship for Online Math Circle that he already started and Johns Hopkins University summer program which starts in 3 weeks. I, however, am very nervous. As Alex wonders at my suggestion that he dresses up a little for the party, I go back in time to my own first dance party which also happened in 5th grade.

It was before puberty hit, before I fell in love for the first time, before being popular became paramount. The party was spontaneously organized at one of my classmates' home to celebrate the 8th or March, International Women's Day - a holiday much celebrated in Soviet Russia. A room almost dark, the music of Toto Cutugno playing loudly, and me, slow-dancing with a boy for the first time. I feel very much surprised to be asked to dance, and even more surprised to hear "understanding" whispers of my classmates behind my back. I feel a little shy moving to a slow music, but not yet very much worried about my dancing skills. That will come later. As will puberty. As will my first love and first broken heart. Right now I am just not sure how I feel about the dance. Something tells me it's a good thing, but I am not sure.

A group of us walks home together from the party. "Don't you know that he likes you?" - the girls ask, surprising me again. As if to prove this, he offers to walk home with me, but I refuse. I am just not sure about this at the moment. I will figure things out as puberty hits, bringing infatuations, heartbreaks and jealousy. But now, it's too early. I don't feel any pressure to be what I think other people want me to be. I am being myself - unaware, innocent and shy.

I am getting ready for my son's first dance party. It's the age before puberty. He is not interested in girls yet, and probably will be shy about dancing. I can't help but wonder what his first love will be like. I wonder who she will be. A girl from school or the one he will meet elsewhere? Will she like him back or will he go through a heartbreak like I did? Will I have to console him or share his joy? As I am looking back in the past, I am also looking too far ahead into the future.

Expectations and disapointments

Yesterday, my younger son informed me that his Hebrew teacher recommended him to be in native Hebrew speakers class starting in 3rd grade. "She said I can do it, but it's up to me to choose", - he said. "I want to try it out and see how hard it is first." I can already see that he will not want to go the extra mile required to be in this much more difficult class.

When my older son was promoted to native Hebrew speakers class 1.5 years ago, it was a complete surprise to us. When we found out about it, he already completed one try-out week. We were even more surprised when we found out that the school never promotes a non-native speaker, especially when his parents don't know a word of Hebrew, to this class. At first, teachers suggested that if Alex wants to be in the class, he will need tutoring. Tutoring was quite expensive, and since learning Hebrew at a higher level wasn't a priority, we were hesitant to pay extra money to the school for tutoring him. But Alex wasn't backing out. He was extremely proud of his achievement and determined to do any extra work required to stay in class. He did stay, without tutoring, and is now striving according to his teachers.

Alex never had a problem going an extra mile when it comes to studying. Learning is the most important thing to him. He is the one going to the teachers for extra assignments, taking extra math classes on the Internet, and preparing PowerPoint presentations for his classmates. When it comes to learning, he pushes himself to the limit.

Not so with Mark. Mark loves his gymnastics, and there, he tries to put his best foot forward. But when it comes to school, he takes an easy road. Sure, his report cards always have the highest marks. But that's not because he tries hard - it's because the elementary school program is, well, elementary. He is already complaining that math is too easy, but when given an optional, and more difficult, assignment (the kids get one every week), I have to insist that he does it. I know he can, so I insist. On the latest parent-teacher conference, the teachers complained to me that in writing, he does the minimum. They know he can do more, so they send the assignment back for revision and more writing. "We wouldn't do it if we knew that a child could not do more", - they said, - "but Mark can. He simply is not trying."

There is a difference between pushing a child into doing more than he is ready for, and insisting on doing his best work possible to realize his potential. In first case, you will not only be turning him off education altogether, but you won't get any results. In the second case, there are also two situations possible. If you are lucky, your child will take pleasure in doing his best work, and be proud of the results. If you are not so lucky, your child will simply refuse to do the extra work, and do the minimum to achieve satisfactory results. To complicate this situation even further, there will be a difference between yours and his definition of "satisfactory". And in this second case, if you keep pushing, there is also this danger of turning your child off education completely. If you push him too hard into doing something he doesn't want to do, it will backfire. But if you push him just right, not even letting him feel that he is being "pushed", you may get the results that you want.

So what's a parent to do? If you feel like your child is doing a sloppy job, not trying at all and producing results that are not satisfactory to you or the teachers, you will want to interfere. If, however, he is doing a satisfactory job (even though he can do more), you have two choices.

You may want to leave it as is, giving your child a choice of doing optional assignments (or go to the native Hebrew speakers class in my case) if he feels like it, or simply be satisfied with the good job he is doing without trying too hard. Your child will appreciate the choice. If you tell him "the choice is yours" he may even surprise you and work on this extra assignment once in a while.

Or, you may want to let him know that you expect him to do a better job. You can tell him how proud you feel when he completes his more difficult assignments, learns another language, or gets great results at his chosen sport. You can tell him that you realize that he puts in extra time and effort and you appreciate it. You can even give him a reward once in a while (be sure to do it sparingly though, otherwise he will learn to expect a reward every time he does an extra assignment). But if you decide to go that route, make sure not to overdo it. Taking away privileges, instituting punishments, and fighting over "trying his best" will produce exactly the opposite of what you are trying to achieve. Your child will feel like what he does (and does well in his opinion) is not good enough for you, so there is no sense in even trying. It will turn him off doing a good job, and you will get worse, not better, results.

So for me, no matter how proud I am of Mark being offered a chance to be in native Hebrew speakers class, the challenge is not to push too hard. I will try very hard to convince him to stay in it, but it will be convincing, not pushing. I may even ask for a teacher's help. But in the end, the choice will be his. If he does not take pride in this achievement and does not consider it important, it's not my job to make him suffer through it. He is doing a good job in school, and I appreciate it, even though he is not working very hard to achieve good results. My job is to set the expectations. If he doesn't meet them... well, it's my job to make sure that he feels loved and appreciated all the same.

Reflections on the past school year

The school year is coming to an end. I can't believe that in a week I'll be a mother of a middle-schooler. Time flies.

The last year of elementary school was not a good one for my older son, academically. It started with him being utterly bored in school, and even threatening not to go to school at all if we didn't transfer him to another school. The year started with me fighting with the teachers and the school officials to move Alex to a higher grade - the fight that I miserably lost. Instead, I got promises of individual assignments especially for Alex. They rarely fulfilled this promise. Special math sessions taught by the school counselor to Alex and his (also "mathematically advanced") best friend were not nearly enough of a challenge for either of the boys. To make the school less boring, the two of them prepared PowerPoint presentations for their classmates on different topics in math and science. The two young 5th-grade teachers were not nearly up to the challenge of handling the needs of a gifted kid. They refused to move him to a higher grade, but had no solution to remedy the boredom. Even in Jewish studies - discipline that is not familiar to Alex, he was satisfied neither with the teacher nor with the material that was taught. In conclusion, academically, the year was a waste of time.

However, it was a different story socially. From the first day of school, my "weird" child who had no friends and entertained himself by following girls around for 5 years, suddenly became "normal". Girls became non-existent and hardly ever mentioned. Two boys who transferred from another Jewish school quickly became his best friends, and so did twin sons of our neighbors and friends. Alex finally got his playdates, mostly on weekends as his after-school afternoons are always filled with activities. Occasionally, he requested playdates with other boys, also. So, as frustrated as I was with his academic life, I couldn't be happier about his social development. I would say that academically it was the worst, but socially, it was the biggest year for him yet.

Looking ahead, I hear that academically, middle school at Hausner is far superior to elementary school. In math, they split students into 3 classes according to their abilities - something they've never done in elementary school since 1st grade. Science program also sounds promising. Hebrew remains challenging as Alex continues his studies in native Hebrew speakers' group. I also hope that in social studies they will finally leave native americans topic for good and move to world history. I will monitor the academics closely from the beginning of the year, and if it does not improve significantly compare to 5th grade, the probability of changing schools will be put on a table.

Keeping in mind unsatisfactory academic program in higher elementary grades, I am wondering about my younger son. Not to say that he is bored right now - he couldn't be happier. The reason is that my social butterfly of a little boy couldn't care less what they teach him. He is too busy discussing his former and future playdates and sleepovers with all of his 50 friends. It was all fine with me - on first parent-teacher conference of the year the teachers couldn't say enough about how good he was doing academically and how well-behaved he was. A conference later in the year, however, was a different story. Firstly, Mark was in trouble twice for misbehavior and even was sent to a principal's office along with a few of his friends. Second, his school work fell a victim to his social interactions, making teachers tell me that Mark is not working up to his abilities that they knew he had. Math was extremely easy for him, but writing suffered. Only after I had a serious conversation with Mark and threaten to take him out of gymnastics his work improved.

Looking ahead, again, I wonder how long I can continue to let Mark's social life take precedence over academics. From my experience with my older son, I know that higher elementary grades will not provide Mark with enough challenge to learn up to his potential. Unlike Alex, though, Mark will continue to be content as long as he has enough playdates, sleepovers, and friends to socialize with during school time. So, it's up to me to decide if I want to move him to a more challenging academic environment. Changing schools is always a hustle. Right now I am reluctant to think about it, especially keeping in mind that Mark will be extremely upset about separation from his friends. Surely, it's only for a short time, and he will find new friends easily in another school, but initially it will be an extremely difficult battle for me. Also, having two kids in different schools is logistically quite difficult, considering that each of them has after-school activities for which they will need to be picked up at different schools, possibly at different times. So, for now, I am inclined to leave Mark where he is unless we will be forced to change schools for Alex.

In gymnastics, it was a huge year for Mark. He moved to level 5, and also had his first year of competitions. He enjoyed it tremendously, and so did I. His enthusiasm and his progress were clearly visible. He worn his medals on his sleeve (literally) after each competition, and really took pride of his achievements. Right now, he is training for level 6, and we were just informed that he will need to spend half an hour more at the gym (that's 11 hours a week altogether), and also starting in fall his practice will be moved to late evening. That creates all kinds of problems for us, including no family dinner, no reading, and a later bed time. Right now, I don't know how this change will affect Mark - it may be more than he can physically handle. But we'll have to wait and see, considering that for him, quitting gymnastics is not an option.

Right now we are looking forward to summer. Alex can't wait to start his John Hopkins summer program. That's when he leaves home for 3 weeks to live in the dorm at Stanford. I am dreading the day already. Mark is ready to start his camps where he will be together with his friends from school. We are also planning to do some traveling right before school starts. I hope for a more challenging, more fulfilling next school year for both of my kids.

PDA and their expiration date

Recently I was waiting in line in a restaurant for a table. It was lunch time, I was alone and the restaurant was pretty crowded, so the couple next to me was practically touching my shoulder. I didn't mind that. What I did mind was the couple was passionately kissing, and a man had his hand on a lady's behind. You would think that it was a couple of teenagers. Wrong. The lady was at least 40, and the gentleman looked about 10 years older. They completely disregarded me standing right next to them, and I was feeling really disgusted.

Today I was sitting in another restaurant, alone again, eating my lunch, when a couple walked in and sat at the table next to mine. Again, the lady was in her 40s and the gentleman in his 50s. They didn't stop kissing until the waiter brought them their food, and when that happened they proceeded to eat from each other's plates. If they liked each other's food so much why wouldn't they exchange plates? You would think that would be more convenient, but that way people around wouldn't have any idea how much they enjoy each other's company, would they?

What is it with older people and their public displays of affection? Is it in fashion right now? Did I miss the news? Is everybody doing it? Do people enjoy seeing it? Am I so conservative that I frown upon what everybody accepts as a perfectly normal adult behavior nowadays?

I heard from friends who have been to the beaches in Europe how women usually sunbathe topless, and men always comment how they enjoy seeing a 25-year-old woman topless next to them but can't hide their disgust when they see a 50-year-old in the same outfit (or rather without one). It's the same with me and public displays of affection. I can understand when 20-year-olds do it. It's cute. It's sexy. It's charming. Oh, except when private parts groping starts - that's where I draw the line even for teenagers. Thinking a little, especially for teenagers. But once you are past 35, public displays of affection start to disgust me.

Older people, what is with your PDA? Your hormones are no longer jumping up and down so that you need your passionate kiss right then and there. I understand your desire to feel young, exciting and sexy. But there is a time for everything in life. There is a time for displays of passion in public - you passed that time. Now there is a time for a more respectful showing of affection. By publicly groping each other and exchanging bodily fluids you are disrespecting not only each other's age, but also people around you. Holding hands or having your arm around your lady's waste will suffice until you get to a more private place and will show people around you how much affection you share as a couple. And once you feel the need to touch each other's private parts, no matter how old you are, it's time to get a room.

The need to be needed

Child development specialists call it scaffolding. You give a child a task she cannot yet perform alone, but is able to with your help. You help her with the task (not do it for her). As a child becomes more and more proficient at the task, you give less and less assistance until a child is able to do the task all by herself.

Parenting is a constant scaffolding. When she is a baby, she needs your help with everything. She can do nothing for herself but one thing - cry for your help. She cries when she is hungry, when her diaper is dirty, when she is bored. You help her with everything, and she needs a lot of help.

I think it starts when she is weaned from breastfeeding (or formula feeding). As soon as she no longer needs milk or formula for nutrition, she made her first step toward independence. And it goes down from there. She starts walking, and pretty soon she will no longer depend on you carrying her or ride in a stroller. She is now able to get (some) things for herself - her cereal from the box, a toy from the shelf, a remote control from the table. She is no longer totally dependent on your help. Sure, at this point it seems more like a blessing.

But wait. She starts daycare, and you release your duties of caring for her to relatively unfamiliar people. For a part of the day at least, you are no longer a part of her world. Or visible world at least. She doesn't need your care at all, at least for that period of time. There is somebody else who replaced you. And that is kind of sad for most of us.

Then she starts school. A world totally different from a daycare. You are definitely not a part of it. A school teacher will not tell you what her mood was during the day. Was she happy, cheerful, upset? A teacher will not tell you who she socialized with or what she ate - something a daycare teacher might've told you. At school, she is mostly independent, and you have no idea how her day went. Not unless you are lucky enough to have a totally communicative child who will tell you every little detail. To most of us it goes like this: "What did you do in school" - "Nothing." It's her world, completely closed to you ever since she enters it. She is (mostly) independent in it.

With time, she will learn to take care of herself, and your help will be needed less and less. With every task my children learn to do, I am proud of them, but I am also sad. They no longer need my help with the task, but doesn't it mean that they no longer need ME? With fear I am thinking about their coming teenage years, when they will no longer need me not only during school time, but also in the evenings, when they will be spending time with their friends. I fear the time when they will no longer want me to read to them before bed time. Or no longer need, or want, a goodnight kiss.

In her book "A blessing of a B minus", author Wendy Mogel talks about parents who satisfy their "need to be needed" by jumping to solve their teens' every problem. I am afraid I am that kind of parent. I really enjoy being needed by my kids. Of course, sometimes I am tired of it and wish that they needed me less, but only sometimes. Most of the time, I take pleasure in helping them, teaching them, guiding them. I can't bear the thought that at some time ahead, they will no longer need any of that.

But do our children ever come to the point when they no longer need US? I think of my parents, my relationship with them. It is very stormy and uneven, but despite being so, I am still emotionally dependent on them. I feel calm and comfortable when they feel well physically and doing well financially, and I feel worried and anxious when something goes wrong with them. Even though I know that my parents can help me very little at this point, I still feel emotionally protected by them. I still value their advice and their presence in my life more than any physical help they can provide. And I think this is true for every child who was fortunate enough to have loving and caring parents. We don't need to satisfy our "need to be needed" by any artificial means such as solving our kids' every problem, by buying them extra things, by babying them. The time will come when they will no longer need our help, but they will always need our love.

Window of opportunity

This will be one of the most controversial pieces I've written so far. The main reason I am writing it is not to judge women who marry and have children later in life, because I understand that this does not always depend on a woman's choice. The main reason for this is to answer an all-out assault by the american mass media on traditional family values, the proof of which are several articles from newspapers and magazines that were posted by friends on Facebook.

Recently I came upon a scientific fact that amazed me: the best window of opportunity for a woman to have a child is from 15 to 25 years old. This is her best age to conceive and produce a healthy baby. After that, this opportunity starts to gradually decline.

15 to 25! This is shocking indeed. At this period, many women do not even think of having children. For the part of this period, sex is not even legal! This is teenagers we are talking about. How could nature provide a woman with the best physical ability to have a child at the age when she is the least physically and emotionally able to raise him? Where did nature go wrong?

Then I started thinking about it. Is 15 really that young? Until the last century, and in many cultures even today, 15 was the age when marriage for a woman was not considered something extraordinary. Centuries ago, girls got married a lot earlier than that. In many countries, it is proper for a woman to be married by the age of 18.

And when it comes to physical abilities, it's a relatively recent (and specific to developed countries) phenomenon that 15-year-old young women have hardly any responsibilities around the house. Even 50 years ago, many children performed the same jobs as adults did, and taking full care of a younger sibling would be one of the responsibilities of a 15-year-old (sometimes much younger) girl, thus making her fully capable of raising her own child. Again, this is the situation in many countries even today. Treating 15-year-olds (or 20-year-olds) as children is a relatively recent "developed countries" idea. It's not that women that age are not capable to be mothers. We made them that way. Nature didn't go wrong - we did.

It would seem here that I am advocating for 15-year-olds to have children. I am not. This is the last thing on my mind. The thing I am concerned about though is priorities. A woman finishes high school, goes to college, then she has got to travel and drink and experience life to the fullest, then she goes back to college to get her MBA, then she finally decides that it's time to settle down and have a family, but where is her window of opportunity? By the time she is done with all that she is in her early 30th if she is lucky and close to 40 if she had fun for a little too long. That's when infertility clinics come to help. That's the way Western civilization is going now - infertility clinics. While in the cultures where women marry earlier and have children when nature intended them to, birth rate is skyrocketing. Ours is dying out.

And for those women who do think of settling down earlier and putting their careers on a back burner in order to have kids, there comes media to the rescue. "There is no reason to rush into having kids," - family experts tell us, - "It's hard work. Have fun, experience life, establish your career first." "There is no reason to look for Mr. Right just yet. It's fun to be single," - magazines scream from the shelves, - "it's your time to experiment with drinks, food, clothes, and partners of different sexes. It's your time to LIVE. It's glamorous! It's now! It's independence! It's the Sex and the City way!" Have you ever read in a tabloid magazine about your window of opportunity to have a healthy child? I bet you didn't.

The result? Women are having children later and later in life. That means they are having fewer of them - there is no time for the 2nd or 3rd. And it's lucky for them if they are even able to have a child around 40. For many women, it's too late. That's the part that tabloid magazines don't tell you about. It's just too late. Sure, they might mention how far along our infertility science have come. Do you know how many couples succeed with infertility treatment? 20%. That's including young couples, whose chances are much higher. Imagine what chances you have when you are 40. That's the part that mass media is shielding our young women from.

My older son recently had a puberty education workshop at school. This is a perfect opportunity to talk to your children about when to start having sex, and having a family. For many of us (especially parents who have daughters) it means talking about not having sex too early, sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy prevention. What many parents (especially parents of daughters) are missing, I think, is talking about how important it is to start a family at the right time. It used to be that not getting married "in time" was considered "wrong" by society. Society used to send a message to women - get married, have kids. Now it sends a completely opposite message. That's where parents have to come in. Of course I am not talking about telling your daughter to start dating at 13 and be married by 15. But you have to counter all those "family experts" advice. Talk about the importance of having a family. Talk about the benefits and the joys of it. The joy of having children. Talk about the fact that there is no danger in putting off your MBA for a few years, but putting off having children may have unintended consequences. Tell them that traveling with children is often more rewarding and interesting than traveling without them. You see the world in a whole new light, so "travel before you have children" is a myth. Talk about the joy your kids bring to you every day, and how lucky you are to have them. Tell them that many people are not that lucky, and for most of them, it's their own lifestyle choices that made them that way. Talk about the window of opportunity.

I'll be there

My son is learning human anatomy in school. Last week they had a project - to research a part of the body and present the results to their peers and parents. Today, I was there to listen to their presentations. There were 10 eye, 8 ear, 3 bones, and 2 cancer presentations. I was there to listen. Next week, they start puberty education. Yesterday, the specialist the school hired to teach it was giving a lecture to the parents. I was there. I know I am going to be bombarded with questions all week, and I need to be ready for a counter-attack.

Being there. Isn't it the main purpose of parenthood? Sure, you think your purpose is to guide, to teach, to control. But it all starts with being there. Being there when they are born. Being there and holding their hand the first day you bring them to daycare, when they are crying their eyes out. Being there for the first day of Kindergarten, when you are crying your eyes out. Being there when they read their first word, to congratulate them. Being there for their first competition, be it gymnastics or a soccer game, to tell them they did great no matter if they won or lost. When the question "where do babies come from" pops in their mind - being there with the answer before an older and wiser best friend or a sibling. Being there through the rebellious teenage years, when they try to push you away. Don't go. Stay there. It's your job. No matter how old they are. No matter how old you are.

Every time my parents were there for me, I remember it and appreciate it. Every time they weren't when I needed them, I remember it too, and I hold a grudge. I can't help it. And I wonder - am I there always when my kids need me? Because they don't always tell you. It's your job to know when to be there - when to offer a guidance, a helping hand, some attention, or when to just be. No matter what else goes on in your life - your job, your partner, your friends - being there for your kids is the most rewarding thing in the world.

More success with less stress

This was the name of the lecture I attended yesterday. It was presented in our school, and I thought it was meant especially for me because since the first days of my parenthood I've struggled with the problem of how to realize all my kids' potentials with as little stress on them as possible. Apparently, so far I have failed.

When I mentioned this lecture to my older son the other day, he said: "Why are you going? If you come back and make me quit my activities, I am going to hate you for this." It wasn't my intention to make him quit any of his activities. Rather, my intention was to make sure that I don't give in to his requests to sign him up for the school soccer team, in addition to what he is already doing - gymnastics 3 times a week, chess 2 times a week, extra-curricular assignments in school and my feeble attempts of doing some Russian grammar on Wednesdays when we have some free time after school. But my son knew me better than I did. I came back from the lecture with the full intention to take him out of gymnastics.

He has been doing gymnastics for over a year now. He was promoted to the team just the other month. He was so excited! Watching his younger brother compete, he was wondering when his first competition would be (which it wouldn't be until next year). He was really getting excited about his progress in gymnastics, and now I am about to make him quit.

I don't know why I let him go to the team in the first place. When Alex started gymnastics (or, rather, returned to it after a long break), it was not because we wanted him to compete or become great at it. It was because he needed more exercise and more physical strength. This was a great sport to achieve it. He was one of the oldest in his group, and we never thought that he would get ahead, beyond recreational level. I don't know why they talked us into taking it twice a week, then 2 hrs per practice instead of one, then 2.5 hrs, and recently they promoted him to the team and added a Saturday practice. As a result, twice a week my son was out of the house from 8am to 8.30pm without a break for rest or a decent meal. The homework was done at 5.30 in the morning because Alex is not the kind of child who would go to school without his homework. I don't know why I was going along with it. I guess I was excited too about my son's progress in gymnastics. Sometimes our pride and our ambition about our kids' success makes us forget all common sense. It was easy to see that this schedule was totally out of control, but somehow I never could bring myself to cut some of the activities. I guess the lecture was the straw that broke the camel's back.

A friend wrote to me that I shouldn't pay too much attention to the lectures. I should know my child, she said, and by his behavior I should be able to tell if he is under strain, or the schedule is working well for him no matter how crazy it seems. I agree with that, only it's not that easy. If a child often misbehaves, is aggressive toward his brother, and even shows signs of bullying behavior toward a classmate (something I in my wildest dreams not seen my son ever doing) - is it a result of his childish desire to push the limits, puberty approaching, or a sleep deprivation? How could you tell? According to the speaker, all of these can be easily caused by lack of sleep.

Now, after I endure ever-satisfying talk with the gym manager about the Stanford scholarship we are giving up, I have a task of finding a sport that will be as challenging and satisfying for Alex as gymnastics have been, and will also fit our schedule. I also have a task of persuading my son that gymnastics has probably been doing more harm than good for him lately, that it's good to try something new, and it's ok to give up the dream of competing - he probably wouldn't have won any medals anyway. He wasn't that good at gymnastics afterall, there are other kids who are much younger and better. He would just be putting himself through more stress. And we don't want stress. That's the point.

The 80s party

Our school parent community is a close one. That's one of the things I like about our school. Every year each class organizes a Parents night out party. Yesterday was the 2nd grade. It was an 80s costume party.


There were big belts, big earrings, leggings, leg warmers, bows and scrunchies. 2 Madonnas. One Andre Agassi. And of course us, 2 silly hippies who wondered in from the wrong decade. But that's not what threw me back to the 80s.

Here they were - people in their 30s and 40s, some of them had 3 kids already - when the light went down and 80s music came on, in their costumes they looked like teenagers. They were drinking, dancing, and making out like teenagers that they were in the 80s.


Here I was, thinking back to my teenage self and the parties that my classmates had. This party was exactly like that, only better, because I didn't have to worry if the guys would ask me to dance. I can dance with a guy any time I want to now - he is called my husband. No talk about kids, no vacation planning, no worries - only the music, dancing and fun. I wished our kids could see their parents now - what would they think of us? Are we the coolest parents in the world?

I think a lot about my age. 40 scares me like a big hairy monster. But yesterday I realized that it shouldn't. Age is nothing but a number. When the lights are down, you can still act like a teenager. And when the lights are on, you sometimes can too (did I mention that my nails are painted blue?) You can still have fun. It's the attitude.


Thank you Yasmin and Oren for graciously hosting the party, yet again. Thank you to all the parents who organized it. And thank you to all who came, played along, and reminded me that age is nothing but a number.

My ideal backyard

"I have a creative writing homework", - my 5th-grader announced on the way home, - "I need to write an essay." "What's the topic?" - I asked. "My ideal backyard." What? First, I didn't understand. Then, I was angry.

Why was I angry? Maybe, because describing what their ideal backyard would look like was the topic for a Kindergarten, not a 5th-grade essay? Really, how creative can you get writing about a backyard? And how much such an essay would help develop a 5th-grader's thinking?

In my middle school time, we wrote a lot. And I mean a lot. We analyzed works of Pushkin, Gogol', Dostoevsky, Chekhov. Occasionally, we analyzed works of communist writers like Chernyshevsky and Gor'ky, but that's another topic. The keyword here is we analyzed. We had to read and then think, and then write. The essay had to be 4 written pages long. That's hand-written, not typed. Sure, most kids hated it. It was hard work. I personally liked it, because I like writing. But that's besides the point. We didn't just write, we developed our minds, our thinking.

Why cannot american 5th-graders be asked to analyze The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, or Huckleberry Finn, or Uncle Tom's Cabin, for example? Sorry to say I am not very knowledgeable in american literature, but I am sure that there are many great writers and great works that almost middle-schoolers can read and write about. But they are not just not writing about those works, they are not even required to read them. They don't have a list of required reading. Why? Is there not a list of books that every literate child should read by high school? Shouldn't The Adventures of Tom Sawyer be on that list? Shouldn't some of Shakespeare's sonnets? What, a 5th-grader's mind cannot understand some of Shakespeare's sonnets? What a mistake. American education system, can we please come up with the list of required reading? And once we do, can we please test, by means of writing an essay, that a student understood what he read, learned something from the book and made some useful conclusions?

But enough about literature. You want more "creative" writing? Let them write about their family. Let them write about their country. The places they've traveled. What they want to be when they grow up and why. There are so many creative topics that will make them think about things like history, relationships, honor, freedom. Not about how high they would make a slide in their play structure. Because it's just a waste of their time and their minds.

"My ideal backyard" - are you serious, teachers? In 5th grade? What are you thinking? I would really love to read my child's writing. It's so important. It shows his thought process, it shows what's important to him, how his mind works. But I am not even going to look at this essay. I don't care how his ideal backyard would look like. This assignment gives him nothing serious to think about. Not to him and not to me.