Finally, a political one... this was long coming

So far, this blog has never touched the subject of politics. I think it's time. It's time because for 20 year that I've lived in the United States, never did we face an election so important as the one we are facing this November. This election will determine the direction this country is going to take, probably for years to come.

When my family came to this country 20 years ago, we had no money. We received government assistance that was just enough to cover our rent and food expenses. We wanted a better life, so we strived to find a job, even if it meant loosing government assistance. 2 months after our arrival, all three of us - both of my parents and I - were working. My father, a history teacher in Ukraine, was doing a hard physical job, sometimes 12 hours a day. My mother was babysitting while preparing for her pharmacy technician exam. I was working weekends as a companion for a 94-year-old lady, and on weekdays I was attending a vocational school. It was not an easy life for our family. But it was the only way to succeed in America - not to rely on the government to sustain you, but to strive and make it on your own. We knew that was the way America worked even before we came here, and we never complained. We knew some people in Russian community who made it big and became quite wealthy, but we were never envious.

16 years later, enter Barak Obama. He is a big "social justice" guy. He is the one to "spread the wealth around." He does not believe that you can make it on your own. He thinks that the government should take care of you. He believes that "rich people" should pay more taxes so that he can expand government programs. By doing that, he will make people dependent on government assistance, and kill an insentive to get an education, to find a job, to become successful. This country, instead of being the country of self-reliance, as it has always been, will become the country of entitlements. USA will take the direction that many European countries have taken. They heavily tax people who achieve success, so other people do not strive for success. They give out government assistance, so more and more people demand it. People are not willing to work hard if they can get stuff for free, the economies collapse, and when the government tries to reverse course, riots break out. This is where we are heading, and president Obama is in the lead.

This election is not about Romney and Obama personally. Maybe Romney is not the best candidate. So far, he was not able to "connect" with people, he has not come up with a specific plan to get the country out of recession, and he generally does not appear "a cool guy" in a way president Obama does. But election is never a popularity contest. This election in particular is about what direction this country is going to take. Romney will restore the self-reliance approach. Obama will continue to "spread the wealth around."

President Obama does not appear to think much of the american people. He considers us stupid by opining that Supreme Court cannot overturn a law passed by Congress. Apparently, very few of us heard of the process of judicial review. He considers us envious by constantly portraying Romney as "the rich guy" as if being rich is somehow shameful or even criminal. Apparently, american people envy the rich and consider them corrupt. Finally, Obama does not think you are smart enough, educated enough, hard-working enough to build your own wealth. He wants the government to take care of you. Do you?

In recent time several of my friends opened their own businesses. I am proud of them and wish them success. They will build it on their own, all the while paying taxes that pay for the roads and bridges that they use (somebody tell president Obama that business owners do pay for that). To all my friends who own a business, as well as to those who go to work every day to provide for their families, as well as to make this country even greater - my hat is off to you. You do not need a part of somebody else's wealth. You can build your own.

Food for thought

You can be proud to be black, but if you are proud to be white - you are a racist.
You can be proud to be a woman, but if you are proud to be a man - you are a sexist.
You can be proud to be gay, but if you are proud to be straight - you are a bigot.
You can be proud to be a Muslim, but if you are proud to be a Christian - you are a religious nut.
You can be proud to work at McDonalds, but if you are proud to work on Wall Street - you are "out of touch".
You can be proud to be a single mother, but if you are proud to have a husband - you are not "an independent woman".

Fair?

Fast lanes and life lessons

This year Great America theme park introduced a new service.  For only $30 a day, you can get a "fast lane" wrist band that allows you to bypass the lines for any attraction.  $30 a day!  It's half the cost of their season pass.  It's a rip-off, and everybody knows it.

I know some people don't mind rip-offs to get better experience out of their day.  I know some people do mind.  And I also know that some people simply cannot afford it.

We all know and love the rip-offs that come with theme parks - skyrocketing ticket prices, overpriced junk food, and extremely poor quality, but equally extremely expensive merchandise.  We know that going in, and don't mind them so much because theme parks make our children happy.  But fast lane is different.  It makes some children happy at the expense of other children.  And that is wrong.

Wealthy people have their privileges.  They eat at better restaurants, they stay at better hotels, they get better quality clothes.  They travel more.  They live in bigger, more luxurious houses.  And on, and on, and on.  And that is fine with me.  Most of them worked hard for their money, they earned it, and they get to spend it the way they like.  But most of the time, they don't get their privileges at the expense of people who make less.  A 6-year-old usually doesn't know that a classmate next to him wears a T-shirt that costs $40, while his costs $10.  They get the same attention from teachers, and they study the same material.  None gets preferential treatment.  Fast lane, again, is completely opposite.  As long as you can (and willing to) pay (a lot) extra, the park will provide better service for you at the expense of others.

Imagine a family that is struggling to make ends meet because one of the parents lost his job.  Nevertheless, they decided to spend their daughter's birthday at Great America because she's been asking for it for a few months.  How do they explain to her why she should wait in line for a ride for half an hour while all these kids with wrist bands keep jumping ahead of her?  How do they justify "wait your turn" lessons that she's been taught since she was a toddler?  And by the way, those lucky kids with wristbands don't benefit much from "fast lane" lessons either, teaching them that being able to pay extra somehow makes them better than all those people waiting in line.  Money, afterall, can't, and shouldn't, buy everything.

We all know that theme parks are out for profit.  But they cater to children.  The least they can do is while making their profit, make sure that they don't trample on children's ideals, such as fairness.  Great America should be ashamed of itself for such a sleazy way to make more money.  And you know these "No line jumping" signs they have next to every ride?  Now right next to them they have "Fast lane" arrows pointing to one direction or the other.  I think these should be renamed to "Line jumping this way."

An incident at a shopping plaza

Several weeks ago, a few kids from our school had a very unpleasant incident.  While hanging out on a shopping plaza, they run into a number of kids from a local middle school who apparently started shouting antisemitic slurs at them.  That is all I know about the incident, except our kids went back to school, complained about it, and parents and teachers got involved.  The process of understanding what happened and how it could happen at this day and age had begun.  The principal of the offending school was informed.  The principal of our school addressed the issue with kids and parents.  A person from Anti-Defamation League was invited to school to speak to the kids about the proper response to the situation.

We the parents had a long and meaningful discussion about the incident and what to do about it in the future.  During the course of discussion, we split into two basic camps - those who believed that our kids should hold their heads high and walk away, and those who insisted on immediate action such as calling the local police or at least finding a mall security guard.  I expressed my support for the second half, deciding not to reveal that I was in a category all by myself.  I wished that there was among our kids someone big and strong or at least someone who knew enough martial arts to confront one of the offenders and give him a bloody nose.

Ok, I agree, that is not a popular position.  Nor it is rational, probably.  It is the kind of response that may put our kids in actual physical danger, providing that among the offenders there might've been someone who knew martial arts also.  But walking away, even with the heads held high, sounds a little defeatist to me.  I mean don't our kids have the right to be at the shopping plaza without being insulted?  Why should they walk away?  Why not the offenders?  I understand that our teachers, and even Anti-Defamation League counselors have to take a politically correct position and advise the kids to stay away from violence.  But we the parents - that's another issue.  Is it not our responsibility to teach our kids how to stand up for themselves, and for justice, and there are, there really are some causes worth fighting for?

And that brings me to the argument I've been having with my son ever since the accident happened.  Naturally, I wanted to discuss it and see what his feelings about it were.  To my great disappointment, he dismissed the whole thing as unworthy of attention.  He called the offenders "stupid", he said that "they have already been punished", and "since they were not using violence, that was no big deal."  He further concluded that walking away proudly thinking that they are much bigger than the offenders was the best idea.  I had to respond that the cases of antisemitism, or any other hate incidents, often start with words, and escalate to violence, and we might walk away one time, but knowing that they got the upper hand, the offenders will follow us to our houses and start breaking windows and slashing our car tires, what then?  To that my very wise son had a response that totally blew me away.  He said that he was not involved in the incident, nobody knows he is a Jew and he is not going to advertise it, and that way nobody is going to follow him anywhere.

That brought back the question that I ask myself more and more often these days.  Where did I go wrong?  Not only I did not raise a fighter, not only my son will not defend justice even if it means getting a bloody nose - he was never a fighting kind and would rather walk away from a confrontation.  But his solution to the problem is actually "not advertising" that he is a Jew and that "would not provoke" the stupid kids in the first place.  "Are you ashamed of being a Jew?"- I asked.  No, he is not ashamed.  But he is smarter than the offenders, he is bigger than they are, and he is not going to engage in the confrontation.  He will walk away.

Ok, so we have a significant difference of opinion here.  Lucky for me, the school is holding a workshop on how to deal with antisemitism this weekend, and I requested that we both attend it, present our points of view, listen to the views of others, and arrive to some kind of solution here.  Most importantly, both of us attending the workshop would bring this issue on a forefront and hopefully my son can see why it is important to me and to the community.  Again, I was in for more disappointment.  My child stated that "he already had the lecture about it in school," "he knows how to handle the situation," and most importantly, "he is not wasting his Sunday on a two-hour lecture on a subject that is unimportant."

I think the workshop would be good for both of us.  Maybe people will be able to persuade me that physical confrontation is not the answer here.  Maybe I can ask a question why should our children walk away and the offenders stay there and feel good about their "victory."  Maybe I can ask if calling the police would be a good idea and how the police will even respond to a situation like this.  There is a lot of questions I would like an answer to.  My problem is my son doesn't have any questions.  He doesn't consider the issue important, or even that it is of concern to him as long as he "doesn't advertise that he is a Jew."  Where did I go wrong?

I come from a country where antisemitism ran rampant.  We often had to hide the fact that we are Jewish, just for our own protection.  We changed our last names, we lied about our ancestors, just in order to get ahead in life - if you were Jewish, you would not get very far.  I guess that's why when we came here and finally had the freedom of expressing our religion, many of us do so proudly, and won't have anything stand in our way.  Our kids, however, being raised in a little safe bubble of a Jewish school, where being Jewish is nothing more to them than learning such unnecessary subjects as Hebrew and Jewish studies, and saying a little prayer before lunch, see things differently - antisemitism is not a scary concept for them.  It starts with "stupid kids saying stupid things" and ends with these kids being suspended from school for a few days and does not go any further.

So, maybe the real question is: "Where did our school go wrong?"  With the antisemitism being alive and well for centuries across the globe, our kids did not know anything about it until they met it one day at a shopping plaza.  Why didn't our school, being a Jewish school, devote some time, starting in 3rd grade, to discussion of antisemitism?  Age-appropriate of course, but serious nevertheless?  Why does a Jewish school devote several months each year to study of Native Americans, but does not devote even a few days to discussion of antisemitism and how to confront it?  Why did our kids have to encounter it face to face without having any clue on how to respond so that our school started having discussions, workshops, and counseling, instead of proactively teaching the kids before the incident actually happened?  I have to give it to our school - they study Jewish values, Tzhedakah, the Holocaust, even Jewish cooking.  But with antisemitism, they really blew it.  And so did I.  I had to be pro-active too.  I, too, was immersed in my own safe American bubble where antisemitism rarely ever happens, and is almost never reported.  I never imagined my son encountering it at a shopping plaza.  Why then am I so surprised at his reaction?  Why should I expect that he would react the same way as I do?  Why do I expect that making him go to a workshop that he already hates the idea of will change his mind more than having an eye-to-eye conversation about how each of us feel, where our feelings are coming from, and how to solve our differences?

In recent months, I find myself being mad and disappointed with my son more and more often.  But when I think about it, I find that I am disappointed with him not because he does something unworthy, but because his views and opinions are so much different from mine.  His ideas about friendship, love, justice, and even about being Jewish are so much different.  And since spending time having a conversation with a family member is not lately his idea of fun, understanding each other and finding a compromise is so difficult.  And frustrating.  And makes me want to disparage his opinions and snap at him and fire a hurtful remark, instantly transforming myself into an enemy whose points of view are not worth any consideration.  Not wise.

Parenthood - a job that embarrasses your teen (a diary of an old-fashioned mom)

No matter how well you know that teenage age is going to be difficult, you are never really prepared. You don't know what to expect next and how much more difficult it is going to get. And you definitely don't know how to react.

Yesterday we found out that our son is ashamed of us. Not that it was a big surprise, but yesterday we heard it loud and clear. When being dropped off at school by his father, he prefers that his father does not come into the school with him, but yesterday he told us why - he is ashamed. And don't his father dare to ever come into the school and embarrass him in front of his friends (by merely walking into the school to ask the receptionist a question)!

I am trying to start a conversation about this. Why are you ashamed? Is your father a drunk? Does he do drugs? Does he not provide a decent living for his family? Is he illiterate? What is the reason for you to be ashamed of him? I know the answer to the question, but I am wondering if my son knows. I am wondering if he knows what the word "ashamed" means. I am also wondering if that's a typical teenage behavior talking or my son actually grew up to be a disrespectful brat. For a number of months now, I tend to write off signs of disrespectful behavior to being "just a phase", but I am wondering if that's the right approach.

I know he is not only ashamed of his father. He is ashamed of me, too. He is not just ashamed, he is disgusted with me. He is furious at me. I am not a permissive parent. I have very high expectations. And I don't accept "everybody is doing it" as an argument. But I also clean his room. I start my grocery shopping with his favorite foods - berries and chocolate yogurt. I bring books that he requests from the library and put them on his table for him to find when he comes home. I drive him to and from activities and social events. I am there for him for his project presentations and book reports. I don't expect gratitude (does anyone really expect that from kids?) but I expect an acknowledgement and appropriate behavior. I certainly do not get it. What I get is "I don't care how my room looks", "You don't know anything", and "You are the meanest parent in class."

So, I am trying to continue the conversation. "Your father is not your taxi driver and I am not your maid. If you continue to expect favors from us you need to learn to be more respectful and acknowledge our needs. Otherwise, next time you need a ride to a school dance or a playdate, you will need to call a taxi." I don't think I am getting through. I think he actually believes that whatever we do for him we owe him, and he owes us nothing. Not gratitude, not even respect. Again, I don't know if that's a teenage behavior that will go away, or my son grew up into egocentric, rude, selfish person, and it's too late to try and change it.

Right now, I am still willing to trust that it's just a phase. Afterall, I was a difficult teenager myself, and although I was never disrespectful, I felt resentful toward my parents. The difference is I kept it inside and never showed it. And the reason that I didn't show it is I was afraid of the consequences of showing disrespect. We brought up our children in a way that they are not afraid of us. I think it's a good thing. But how much, if any, of disrespectful behavior should be tolerated? And how do you approach it? Punishment is a common answer, but if you think of it, it's easy to understand that you don't earn respect by punishment. The more you punish your teen, the more he will feel like a victim and the more he will think you deserve disrespect. Punishment doesn't earn respect. It breeds more disrespect.

It looks like the task I am facing now is learning how to teach respect. And how to give proper consequences for disrespectful behavior. Writing it off to "just a phase" is not going to do. Or, as my husband rightly put it, I don't know if I will live long enough to see the other end of this phase.

White men can't do math

Yesterday my son competed in first Bay Area Math Championship. I went into the room with him, and actually felt pretty humble - I was in the same room with about 120 brightest young mathematicians in Bay Area. Interestingly enough, all those brightest mathematicians were either Asian or Indian. My son's was the only white face in the room.

I was not exactly surprised. Last summer my son took Science and Engineering class at CTY summer program. This is Johns Hopkins University program for gifted kids. He reported that he was the only non-Asian kid in his class.

He also competes in chess tournaments, and most of the competitors are either Asian or Indian.

Last month, a few boys from our school formed a team and went to another math competition. They were the only white faces there, too.

I am starting to get used to this, and I can't help but feel resentful. Is it really true that white kids cannot do math? Are there no gifted kids among Caucasians, or blacks for that matter? I have a few (white) friends who I consider math geniuses. But those are adults. What happened to the kids?

In his numerous books, Pat Buchanan complains about how the immigrants are taking over white America. For the record, I consider Pat Buchanan a racist and a bigot. He does have some valid points, however. But here is a point that is even more valid - sometimes, white America gives in way too willingly. For example, white American women have children later and later in life, and have fewer and fewer of them, unlike other nationalities for which having children seems to be a priority. That bugs me. Not introducing children to math and science from an early age bugs me as well.

White American moms will drive their children to soccer practices 50 miles away from home. They will push their kicking and screaming toddlers into the water for their swim lesson which the little ones dread. They will put their 2-year-olds on skis and snowboards before the kids can even walk independently. But when it comes to math, they will wait until school takes over, and to be honest, most schools do not do the best job of teaching math.

Surely, not all the kids can be gifted mathematicians. But how will you know that your kid is good at math, if you don't introduce math at an early age? Your kid will never become a good gymnast if you wait until he is 7 to start gymnastics. He could've been great, but you missed the crucial window of development. It's the same with most other sports. If you want your child to be competitive, you have to start early. The thing is, for most kids it's not that important to be competitive in any sport. But math is extremely important, for every child. So why are we waiting? Why are we missing this crucial window of development? Why are we not introducing math at earlier age, in ways that are understandable and fun, and waiting for school that introduces math in ways that makes most children hate it? I hear a lot of complains how the school-age kids hate math, and how math is their least favorite subject. Incidentally, all of those complaining are whites. Asian and Indian kids love math. They do it in their spare time, and they enjoy math competitions. Is it possible that white parents are pre-programming their kids from an early age to be scared of math?

I feel resentful. I do not like to come to a math competition and feel like I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't want to feel like there is something wrong with my son because he is the only white person there. This year, there will be 3 of his classmates at CTY. That makes me very happy. I also hope that his school math team will continue practicing and participating in competitions next year. As for the rest of the white (or black) Americans - introduce math early. You may be surprised to find out that your child IS a gifted mathematician.

Changes (diary of an old-fashioned mom)

I remember the times when my child was a toddler. He changed almost before my very eyes. Every day brought a new change. New movements. New words. New behaviors. New skills. New expressions. Over the second year of his life, he changed dramatically.

Now he is 12 years old, and I feel like I am re-living the same period over again. Every day, I have a completely new child. New words. New behaviors. New likes and dislikes. Every day brings something new, and I feel like I don't really know him anymore, and I don't know what he will be like tomorrow.

Most importantly, how did he manage to turn into a person whose character I don't even like? He is not kind. He is not compassionate. He doesn't have any regard for other people's feelings and opinions. He is narcissistic, egocentric, and stubborn. He uses language that I'd rather not hear. He watches cheap action movies instead of fun kid flicks. He listens to trashy pop instead of classical music or classic rock. He reads trendy teenage books instead of meaningful literature.

Where did I go wrong? Was I too strict? Too permissive? Did I have too many rules? Were my expectations too high? G-d knows how many parenting mistakes I have made and still making. I have always known that teenage years are not easy, but I guess you are never really ready. And who knows how much more difficult it is going to get?

I still have a glimmer of hope, however. Just like during the toddler years, when constant physical changes turn a baby that is fully physically dependent on you into an older child who is somewhat capable of taking care of himself, maybe constant emotional changes of a pre-teen will turn him from being a child who was fully emotionally dependent on me into an adolescent who is totally able to understand things and think for himself.

This is a huge step for a young person, a step that's not an easy one and which does not happen overnight. But hopefully, given some freedom, he will figure things out. He will understand other people's feelings. He will understand what language is appropriate to use and when. He will learn how to distinguish "trendy" and "trashy" literature and music from those worth his full attention. But in order for him to learn all that, he must be given freedom to experiment. And I must learn how to live with "experimenting" without loosing my temper and my mind.

About a boy who came in next to last

I stayed in the gym today for the announcement of yesterday's competition results. What mother wouldn't? My younger son took a medal for every event and, for the first time ever, an all-around gold medal. My older son came in next to last. But, after making the announcement, the gym manager called my older son to the floor. He told the whole gym how Alex never competed in level 4, how he joined the team late and had to catch up with the younger level fives, and how he comes to the practice and does his best every time. I am so glad. I am sure it meant a lot to Alex.

We never planned for Alex to compete in gymnastics. We brought him to gymnastics to make him stronger and tougher. But coaches had other plans, and Alex was quickly promoted to the team, somewhat against our wish. We still didn't plan that he would compete, but Alex really wanted to. Seeing his brother compete last year, competition seemed glamorous to him. We've tried to explain to him that he is not up to the level of most of the boys, that he didn't have time to learn all the skills, that he would never catch up with his younger brother, that he would probably never get a medal and feel bad about it. We've tried to explain how tough it is to try to do your best and not get a good result, because other boys are just so much better. But Alex still wanted to compete. And we felt that it wouldn't be fair to just not let him.

Alex thought he could handle the pressure. Maybe he thought that getting good results are not important and just competing would be enough. Or maybe he thought he was really better prepared than he actually was, and he could get good results. But again, he was not. After placing among the last at 2 competitions, Alex is disappointed at gymnastics. He is bitter, sad, and angry. I can see that he realized that he made a mistake by going into the competitions. And I was wondering if I made a mistake by letting him.

That's why I was so glad today to hear the gym manager praise Alex. Of course we praise him after every competition, we stress how important it is that he tries his best no matter what the result is, but he probably knows that we do this because we have to, that his younger brother performs so much better, and that makes him sad. I hope that today will change Alex's attitude toward this year's future competitions. He is determined to quit gymnastics after the season is over, and I think it's the right decision, but I really hated to see him suffer through it instead of having fun. I hope he will remember today. And I feel better about my decision to let him compete. To let him make a mistake and learn from it, and hopefully become tougher and stronger. Mentally, not just physically.

Every time I go to a competition, I am at awe with these young men who come to show the miracles of strength and sportsmanship. Each and every one of them comes to the gym 3 - 4 times a week, for several hours, after school and homework, and pushes himself to the limit, to do his best. Every single one of them should be proud, no matter which score he posts on the board. Every single one of them is a champion.

And for every parent I have this to say. Support your kids. It doesn't matter what their interest is. It may be gymnastics, swimming, chess, or ballet. They may perform at the theater or play a musical instrument. Support them, no matter what their results are. If they want to sing in a choir, and you know they can't carry a tune, still support them. Let them do their best. Let them push their limits. They are putting in their time and effort, and sometimes they have to deal with bitter disappointments. The least you can do is show you care. They are your champions, even if they came in next to last.

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?