clickmom

Israel Day 6

So, today is Saturday, which is the sabbath here, and a day of rest, so nothing Jewish was open. Instead of doing something Jewish/touristy we hung out at the hotel pool in the morning, the kids needed the break from touring anyway, and spent a few afternoon hours wandering the Arab Market. (Their day of rest is on Friday) This is what I discovered at the Arab Market.

1. I have NO CLUE how much anything on the face of this earth is actually suppposed to cost. I mean completely cluless.

2. I am a lame haggler. And they can tell.

3. I suck under pressure.

Therefore, the one item, I was fairly certain we got at a bargain price (because really, who knows?) we saw in a retail store window this evening for two shekels less than what we paid at the Arab market. Now, two shekels is worth about fifty cents, but leaving the Arab market I had the impression that I had done a great job on this one item. You see? Clueless. We paid retail and had to haggle for it!! They can smell the sucker in me a mile away.

I am so totally going back home to the mall, where at least I know I am getting ripped off, but can enjoy the luxurious air conditioned sanitary conditions of paying retail. Sheesh.

The husband only wants to spend spend spend, and IT IS KILLING ME!! He is making me shop on vacation. Poor me. Now he wants to buy me jewelry, and I am trying to tell him that I can't buy jewelry just for the sake of spending money, I can only buy jewelry if I happen to see something that appeals to me, sppeaks to me, calls my name. So he is making me jewelry shop three times a day. gah!

Yiddish word of the day- CHUTZPAH

Really I should be getting ready for dinner but I just want to share a story with you.

Yesterday was Matt's special day here, it was his Bar Mitzvah, it went down perfectly. We did a quiet little ceremony on the southern side of the wailing wall. The day was beautiful, the location was breathtaking, Matt read like a rabbi, and it was just picture perfect.

Speaking of pictures, I decided that for once I wanted to be IN the photos instead of the one taking them, and I asked the husband to arrange for a photograppher. For some reason, the husband told the Rabbi, who we brought along (as well as her whole family) with us to do the ceremony, and the Rabbi told the husband NO PICTURES. Normally a Bar Mitvah is on the sabbath, and in a temple so I understand why a person couldn't so their photos on that day in the temple, (people usually takew staged ones before hand) but we were doing it outdoors on a Thursday. I was just distraught over the thought of not having photos. Matt has been wporking so hard to perfect his torah reading, and has really grown spiritually the last year. I knew this was a huge day for him and I wanted some way to capture it. In my mind he deserved to have photos.

Wednesday night I confided in the tour guide that I was upset that we couldn't have a photographer, (I was going to ask her to take some photos and pretend she didn't know how the Rabbi felt) and she told me that everyone has a photograppher there, even the orthodaox and that if I wanted she could call a photographer she knew. I thought for a few seconds and then decided I would take the heat if the Rabbi got upset, but dammit I wanted photos so I said "YES!" To make a long story short, not only did I have a photographer, but we got a video guy too!

Now, I was still trying to figure out if and how I was going to tell the Rabbi, when the husband casually mentioned it to her after dinner Wednesday night. She gritted her teeth a bit, but didn't say anything.

The photographer and video guy did their thing throughout the ceremony. I was barely conscious of them, because like a good photographer, he kept his distance and just kind of faded into the background.

After the ceremony, I asked the photographer to take some family photos of me with Matt and Matt with the whole family, his grandparents, and tutor. Then the Rabbi said she would like one with Matt, then she called her family over and then the Rabbi who didn't want a phtographer in the first place nudged Matt away and said to the phtographer "How about a few with just my family?"

And that my friends is what us Jews call CHUTZPAH.

Yesterdays post that I couldn't post because the hotel's internet was wonky

It’s our last night in Tiberias and the end of our second day. If yesterday’s word was RAIN, then today’s word would be DOWNPOUR. I have alternates, including freezing, flooded, and foggy. Those four words pretty much sum up the bulk of the day.

You might be thinking “Wait a gosh darn minute, just how cold could it possibly be in Israel?” I swear to you that we visited an old army bunker on the top of a mountain overlooking Syria and as we were leaving, teeth chattering in shorts and toes all frostbitten in our new summer sandals, the smart native people were coming up the path in their boots and down jackets. That is how cold it was today.

Also, we visited this bunker after the worst of the storms had passed and after tunneling through all the underground paths to see the view from the shooting gallery (my phrase, not the tour guide’s) we discovered that the shooting gallery was flooded with 5 inches of water that I (or any of my fellow travelers) was not brave enough to wade through. SO we never did get to see the view of Syria from inside the bunker. We did however get to slosh through an inch or maybe even an inch and a half of ice water to get there (in my new sandals) hence: the frostbitten toes. Being in a bunker was cool, we had to walk through a long dark )cold) tunnel to get to the end. We passed the sleeping area. Another aspect of life that is unfathomable to me.

We took a Jeep ride along the side of a mountain in Gadot. Historically it was quite interesting since this was a mountain that had been won from Syria in a battle and the beautiful slopes of native wildflowers (weeds), which were green and lush today (but will be brown and dried out in a few short weeks) were surrounded by barbed wire fencing. When Israel took control of the land, they were never told by Syria exactly where all the land mines were, so now no one can walk on much of these mountains. There was a cattle farm on the adjacent land, and every once in a while, we were told, a cow gets around the barbed wire and ends up exploding themselves on one of the left over land mines. Can you imagine?

We had lunch at a local falafel stand, and I had some kind of chicken. It was so good, that I totally gobbled it. I hope no one was watching. I got the recipe from the owner, well the tour guide got it for me, and she is going to take me to the market to buy all the Israeli spices so I can take them home and make the chicken myself. I am so psyched!

We had two jeeps that were special for the occasion. One was supposed to be topless, but we had to have the tops on both of them due to the 7 inches of rain that fell during the hour and a half adventure. We skidded along the mountain, listening to the Israeli guide explain to us what we would be seeing if we could see more than 20 feet beyond the jeep. Apparently it would have been gorgeous. There are mountains in the distance everywhere here. As it was, the close up scenery was lovely, and in a perfect world I would have had on hip waders so I could have gotten out of the Jeep and captured some images. I tried to shoot from the Jeep window, but we rocking and sliding so much that it wasn’t working for me. When I asked the driver to stop, he never managed to stop in the right place, and clearly I was not getting out of the Jeep. But, alas, I had on those freaking inappropriate sandals, and when I wasn’t clutching any part of the car I could get my white knuckled fists on I was a tad too busy discussing what to do in a vehicular roll-over to minimize injuries to worry about photos while we some how descended the mountain gliding side to side and diagonally down most of it. Once back on the paved road my heart returned to my chest cavity and I decided it had been fun.

There was so much history to share, and most of the history here is all about who fought what battle and who won which war. Isreal is still so new. The people who we have met are so thankful to be here. We have heard stories of celebrated spies and seen memorials to fallen soldiers. The guides discuss suicide bombers with a casual air that I cannot fathom. This Jeep driving guide had two kids in the Israeli army at he same time. I know I would curl up into a ball and stay that way until my kids came home.

The sun came out around 5 o’clock as our tour bus, funky bus, (as named by the kids) traversed the country side bringing us back to the hotel. The views really were spectacular. Once back at the nice warm hotel, we exercised (yay!) showered and went to eat at a local restaurant. I can tell you honestly, that the food alone here makes me want to move to Israel. We have been eating at great places (not tourist traps) and I am getting spoiled! I might have to buy bigger pants when I get home.

I am about to go to sleep now. Tomorrow we pack up and move on to another hotel. There is a party boat downstairs having a dance party. I can hear the rap music playing and see the people dancing. If Matt’s tutor knocks on my door, I would totally throw my clothes back on and go down to try to crash that party.

Goodnight!

word of the day: RAIN

So, there was a tornado here in Israel today. Seven people were killed. Scary.

Where we are it just simply rained all day. My vision of Israel as a big old desert was way off. Not a desert on this end, that is for sure.

What we didn't get to do today:

1. Enjoy the scenery (the fog made the visibility about 15 feet for most of the day)
2. Go kayaking.
3. Repel or bike down a mountain.

What we did today:

1. Take a tram to the top of a cloud covered mountain in the rain.
2. Visit a 15th century synagogue and walk along a touristy street looking at jewelry in the rain.
3. Eat an absolutely amazing middle eastern lunch in a place that tourists do not usually go to. YUM!
4. Go to the Naot shoe factory where I walked away with 3 pairs of sandals for half price in my gargantuan size that no one carries at home.

Happy 9th Birthday Evan

Oh, Evan happy birthday darling. You poor thing, having to “celebrate“ your birthday while on a plane, trying hard to sleep in a half sitting position. My little miracle baby is 9. Evan, you made my dreams come true the day you were born. I feared that after having those horrible miscarriages I would never have the big family I dreamed of, and then came you. I knew you would be perfect and healthy every minute you were inside me. And when I could finally pop you into the baby carrier to parade around and tell the world how happy I was to finally have a family with two children I just thought my heart might burst from the sheer happiness. I used to joke that you helped me go from a starter family to an established family.

Today I watched you sleep on the plane and I could only think of what a charming young man you have become. You were born with the desire to connect and the ability to have a conversation and have always been so deeply interested in other people. At first you would hypnotize people with your eyes, then as you began to speak, you engaged them with your words. Now you are using your talents to win over more than just a person’s friendship and admiration, you are using your insights to win over their hearts too.

You know all the magic words to say to melt a heart, mend a heart and inflame a heart. When you were charming Boops the other day, you used the letters of her name to make a decision, like eeny meeny miny mo with B-O-O-P-S. I thought she was going to pass out you were pouring the charm on so thick. I know that she and I were both having a vision of a handsome, smart and strong, athletic teenage Evan using the name of a poor unsuspecting teenage girl, who would then fall hopelessly in love with you. I know that day is just around the corner.

You show such sensitivity to other people. One day, you shared with me your concern over a classmate who you thought was being mistreated by her girlfriend. You wondered out loud what words you could mutter to the mistreating girl that would not only make her change her ways, but would help to salvage the ego of the girl who had been treated poorly. You were genuinely concerned about her sense of self worth. Evan, it may have seemed like a little issue to you, and you may never understand why I think this is such a big deal, but what I saw in you during that conversation was a guy who was going to be a hero one day. I know that heroes don’t run around in capes and save the world from evil villains. Heroes are the people who with a kind word or a small gesture make a positive difference in another person’s life. And you, are going to be that hero for more one person. The quality is in you and you are fine tuning it every day. You may never know it, you may never realize it has happened, but mark my word, there will be people on this earth that grow old and realize that their lives were made better because you said the magic words to them, or showed them the kindness they needed to overcome an adverse situation. I imagine you’ll still be shrugging this off 50 years from now, and that is because, like a true hero you do and say the right thing because it is the right thing to do, not because you are trying to find some glory.

Now there are occasions where you use your powers for evil, no one can incite a riot faster than you. You can drive your brothers mad or you can mesmerize a room full of kids. We can skip the part where you drive your brothers mad, but I want you to remember that when Josh had his 5th birthday party and his crazy little friends wouldn’t listen to any adults or even Matt, you managed to take control of the situation in your own special way by yelling “Dog pile on Evan!” and letting the boys throw themselves on top of you. Even though that may seem like wild behavior it ended being a controlled kind of chaos, and the kids listened to and showed you respect afterwards. You saved the day for me big time.

Now you are nine, and are entering that bridge between being a boy and being a
young man. It may not be an easy time for you, is often difficult confusing, but I am sure you handle it with the grace, style, and thoughtfulness you handle the rest of your life with. I am here if you need any help.

I love you sweet Evan, Happy Birthday.

travel day (as in the day before the official day 1)

Last night, or this morning, depending on whether I am on Israel time or Garden State time, (which is totally messing with my head) I wrote a long and hilarious post about the bathrooms of my travel experience here. What I didn’t realize was that while I was writing my hotel internet timed out and when I tried to post, I lost the whole thing. ~sob of frustration~

Just so you don’t lose sleep over wondering what you missed, here is less inspired (for fear of losing it again) reader’s digest (as in, once I have an idea you will get to read it or else dammit!) version:

After a pleasant and smooth check in at the airport we eventually made it to the gate, right on time, all happy and laughing. We were having a good time. We were told we would board the plane, got up to get on line and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually the stewardess got on the loud speaker to inform us that there was some kind of bathroom issue the necessitated the crew disembarking the plane, but she reassured us, we would be boarding shortly. Wait, wait, be very happy I am not on plane smelling the bathroom issue. Wait wait, get fearful of exactly what is going on with the bathroom on the plane. Wait, wait, start making “I am not comfortable with the possibility of bathroom odor on a ten hour flight” jokes. Listen to announcement that the plane will board and fly despite that fact that the crew was unable to resolve the possible plumbing blockage in three of the the ten airplane bathrooms, which would now be sealed off for the flight. Close my eyes and try to remember just where on the plane we were seated in relationship to the potentially clogged bathroom and add a whole new kind of new prayer to the “I am getting on a plane and I am afraid “ list.

Once on the plane the bathroom turned out to be a non-issue, with the exception of a few tense minutes where I waited, crossed legged, for a longer than normal “I am just peeing” time to get in to one of the functioning bathrooms and began to worry about what was going on in the bathroom I was waiting to use when the freshly painted and groomed lady emerged holding her cosmetic bag. Whew. But listen, according to clickmom, if you are on a plane which has lost the use of 30% of it’s toilet facilities, do your personal grooming on your tray table. Don’t make the next person in line sweat it out.

After the flight we got on a tour bus which smelled like a …you guessed it… bathroom. If you have ever had the priveledge of traveling by Greyhound bus in the mid 70’s then you are familiar with the stench of fruity bathroom disinfectant. Gah! The smell makes a woman crack open the ancient bus window and then push her lips out of that crack just to suck in the fresh highway air. I might have burn all my bus stench scented travel clothes now, no wait, the stench may have made them super flammable and now they will be considered a flight risk, I’ll just have to leave them all here.

Not to be out done by the bus stench, though was the highway rest stop, adjunct to the freshly fertilized farm, mmmmm, cow poo. And apparently, toilet paper in Israeli public bathrooms is optional, luckily both Matt and Evan had been suffering back home from seasonal allergies, and I was prepared with multiple tissue packs, of which I distributed an entire one to my fellow travelers and a few strangers who appeared desperate to avoid the never effective for females method of drip dry.

At one point I began to consider withholding fluids to myself for the rest of the trip. But when we arrived at the hotel, I stopped into the nice clean newly renovated bathroom to freshen up, only to discover that I had gotten my little “visitor” which means that I am now forced to be very familiar with the bathrooms of Israel over the next week or so, while experiencing cramps too. What Fun!

By the way, did I say this was going to be the readers digest version?

burn baby burn

Spring is here and along with spring comes about a zillion spring catalogs. One of the popular items that appears in many of these catalogs is a copper fire pit. They look very nice. The husband mentioned that he wanted to get a copper fire pit for the island. I said nothing, but what I was thinking was that the fire pit that we have there now was the one that I built with my babes during our babes weekend. I dove naked to the bottom of the lake to fetch those rocks, and our babe boy scout pack leader arranged them in the circle while topless. Those rocks mean something to me.

In my dreams at night I am sitting by the water and there is a cozy fire burning in the fire pit that I helped to make. I never mentioned the copper fire pit to the husband because I had seen them in the catalog too and honestly, I just didn't want one. I have a fire pit and it suits me perfectly.

Then the husband happened to mention that he ordered me a mothers day gift and that there would be a package coming soon. The package showed up and guess what it is. You got it. A copper fire pit.

How big of a bitch would I be if I used the one he ordered simply to store the wood?

america's favorite past time

Remember how bad the Bad News Bears were in the beginning of the movie? Well, those bad Bears could totally beat Evan's town recreation department baseball team. There is no question about it. Seriously, Evan's team is so sorry. They are pathetic. You know these kids are the kids who have never gone out to toss a ball with anyone and that is why they are being forced to be on the team. They need to learn how, and boy, do they ever. The kids, they mostly watch the ball hit the ground before they walk over to throw it in. They have no idea what the base coach wants them to do if they are running, and the pitching, OMG! Body armor please. The batting is it's own sad little piece of performance art. I well up every time they are up. There are a couple of pretty good players though. I have to admit that. The best one, according to me, is the kid who is about 2 feet tall. He comes up to Evan's belly button. Even the other kids aren't sure this kid is their age. They let him play though, because he can catch. He reminds me of The Flash. There is a blur of color and the kid appears under the ball. This kid is also one of the few to actually wear his uniform every time. At least we can see him and identify the team when we are late for practice.

Today Evan was exhausted, and when it was time for his practice, he said he didn't want to wear his team baseball cap. My friend joked that Evan had to either wear his baseball cap or the red sponge clown nose he had found lying around in the kids playroom. Evan grabbed the clown nose and headed towards the car. Once at the field, he popped the nose on and got on line for running drills with the rest of the kids. A kids few glanced over at Evan's new look shrugging the nose off, not really reacting, just quietly accepting the fact the big kid behind them was being straight about the situation. After all, this team's baseball practice does bear a striking resemblence to clown school. At least it does in my imagination.

The kids didn't have much to say about the clown nose. They barely even reacted. I on the other hand thought it was the funniest thing I had ever seen, and stood just up from their practice field with my fist jammed in my mouth and my knees crossed from laughing so hard. Thank goodness I remembered the combination to the bathroom.

leaving on a jet plane

I have come to terms with the reason that I have been in quite a serious mood/just a tad cranky lately.  It is because we are about to embark on a trip.  I just hate traveling.  I am petrified of planes and to make matters worse we are going to Israel.  Now, I know that what hear on the news isn't really what life is like there, and I know that our media even twists our own news until we only hear the version they allow us to hear.  I mean, according to one of my dog pals, who has a friend who works safety at the local fancy schmancy mall, there are armed robberies and car jackings over there all the time and we never a thing.  The mall keeps it all very hush hush.  Also, we aren't all that far from Newark, and I'm sure there are crimes against humanity going on there every day, and I just drive on through Newark on my to the city when ever I please.  I mean how many times can the television news profile the same crime ridden neighborhood?  And the city, well, lets not even go there, it is my home town, and I know it has a dark side.   But that doesn't make it easier for me to put my family on a plane (Aaaaaggghh! A plane!!) and go to a place where folks are willing to explode them selves in order to take out a few others at the same time.   The thought that the people donning these explosives think there is some heavenly reward for killing innocent by standers just blows my mind.  I can't fathom that way of thinking.  

The deal is that Saturday we are going to Israel along with my parents, our Rabbi and her family, and Matthew's tutor and husband.   Our group will be touring around, and also having a Bar Mitzvah ceremony for Matt over there.  It will most likely be an incredible trip, and two weeks from now I'll be writing about what a wonderful experience it all was for the whole family.  But right now, I am just a girl who hates to travel,  about to travel to a place which gets tons of media attention after senseless crimes.  I am scared.

self portrait tuesday 4/18

Still being not in a playful mood, I was again stumped for ideas for this months challenge. BUT Tuesday is my pilates day and there is always that pose (short spine??) that makes me feel silly! The instructor couldn't believe when I said I had to take a photo of this and that I wanted to do it myself. (anal? purist?) Of course, she kinda freaked out that I was holding the pose too long, and didn't want me to turn my head while all half upside down, and she just didn't get it. She didn't get the importance of me capturing the moment. I am posting two shots, the first is what I see when my legs and butt go up in the air, and the second I tried to take of myself. I call it "I am about to suffocate myself with my own boobage" pose. If you look into the reflection in the rear mirror you can see more of what is actually going on.