A teachable moment

Sometimes I am aware enough to see a teachable moment unfold and sometimes they sneak up on me and have a ripple effect like tossing a pebble in a still pond.

Last night we had both.

The big kids and I went out to celebrate a friend's birthday at a fancy restaurant and some of the food that arrived at the table was not kosher. This is obviously a big deal for them since we walked out of a restaurant not so long ago. But these were people they know and respect and it was a bit of a conundrum.And a bit embarrassing to me that they would judge the adults for the choices they made and in such accusatory tones. Yikes. But upon relating the story to my husband, he was proud that his message had made such an impact. I have to agree. They ordered cheese pizza and were fine to skip the lasagna when they found out it had meat and cheese together.

Then, since Eran had stayed home with the twins and had been doing a massive cleaning and rearranging for Pesach, he requested that we bring him a schwarma on the way home from the fancy restaurant. I was happy to oblige even though it added more time [at least a half hour] and not an unconsiderable expense [about another $25] to the outing, and especially since he truly had a yen for this taste of home from just down the street.

The story of my Hebrish conversation that made the fresh off the plane from Israel waiter (if you can call him that - the guy that built the lafa for my husband) could be a whole other post so I'll save it except to say that I made him chuckle when I told my kids that one of the ingredients lined up to add to the sandwich was charif. My exact sentence was "No that's not Amba, it's charif." Does charif even have a word in English? Spicy sauce or schug is just not strong enough. Here are some of the schug ingredients, start with some hot peppers, and adding garlic is never a bad thing...see a story and recipe here

The teachable moment in this case was when Yael saw the line of pushkes (tzedah boxes) [can you see why this guy must have thought I was the schizophrenic one?]

She asked for a few pennies to put in the tzedakah boxes. Normally I wouldn't oblige, but I knew I had a few coins, mostly quarters, and so I pulled out the wallet and handed them to her. Then of course Yoni wanted to make his donation too, so I pulled out a few more coins. So Yael says that she needed another penny to add to the last box and so did he. I pulled out the wallet for the third time. This was all taking place because the kiosk is so small that he can only do one order at a time and there were several orders that were before ours. I should also mention that it was hot as blazes in the small store even after the sun had gone down on what was a pretty cool day. The schwarma spit put out lots of heat as did the beverage coolers that offerered Prigat next to their coke and bottled water and dr pepper. Last week as a treat and on a whim I bought a liter of strawberry banana juice for the kids and they were hooked. When I saw that he had some cans of it there in the cooler I indulged my son who I normally don't get to indulge.

So as we were waiting for the food and they were sipping on their juice, I explained that I was happy they were enjoying the outing and that the reason I "let" them give tzedakah is because they were fortunate enough to be able to have that drink when they wanted it just becuase they wanted it and that some people weren't able to do so and that is why we give tzedakah to help those who need it more than us. And just for good measure to drive the point home I reminded them that sometimes we park a little farther away because G-d gave us good legs to carry us those extra steps to the door and that is not always the case (and that it is ok that they park closer when Bubbie takes them places)

Updates on previous posts

Update to Post 1:
We will never again darken the door of the restaurant where they had to call the paramedics a few weeks ago. We tried again this time with the whole family on a night where if you order an entree, a kid's meal is free. The place was packed but we found a table toward the back. The twins were all over the place and made E very anxious. Then we invited some friends to join us to help fray the toddler factor among more hands that were less tired of dealing with it. So we are now 3 mistakes in...1 busy night, 2. restless toddlers and anxious parents and 3. waiting (never a good thing no matter how long with twin toddlers) for our friends and then drinks/chips to arrive.

The next part was a genuine good-hearted attempt by our friends to help us that backfired in a big way. When we eat out (which is less and less so at this point) we do so kosher style. That means we'll never have a cheeseburger [we are trying not to mix milk and meat at the same meal (although we were at a Mexican restaurant)] And we don't do seafood at all so as to avoid shrimp, oysters, etc. Another thing that we do is to try to avoid pork. But at a steakhouse, I'll eat a steak - just not covered in garlic butter or with a sour cream laden baked potato. Our friends and family are aware of this issue. Our friend was trying to be sure that the beans did not have pieces of bacon floating in them so he asked if they use pork in their side dishes. The poor unsuspecting server enthusiastically assured him that they do use pork in their beans - both the soupy kind and the mushed up kind) AND in the rice as well. Well that was the end of our dinner that night. We had just finished ordering the meal and when we heard that [on top of the fact that our oldest had dropped and broken a plate, the girl child didn't want to come in becuase of the last time we were there and the restless twin toddler nightmare] That sealed the deal. We couldn't get out of there fast enough. We paid for the drinks and the chips and beat feet. Poor server. She didn't know what she had said and our friend was concerned that he had ruined our night.
I on the other hand completely see the writing on the wall that this was just a very big wake-up call that we need not frequent this establishment. It is Kosher Month here in H-Town after all [another irony not lost on me, either] The fact that we left the restaurant without dinner raised a lot of questions for my kids and I was glad that Eran was in the mood to discuss the matter with them. He explained without mincing words that he was not about to compromise his Jewish beliefs now that he was informed with 100% certainty that the food contained non-kosher pork.
We went home and I made them quesadillas (Mexican theme) with the kosher pizza cheese that I had bought over the weekend.


Update: Sibling speak
Ben calls his sister Aya which could be a mix of my Ya-Ya or La-La nomikers that I gave her.
He calls his brother Loni which is close to Yoni which is what we call him in the family. Poor kid, they call him Jonathan in English, Yonatan in Hebrew and we all call him Yoni - split personality much? At some point I guess he'll get it all straightented out.
Daniel seems to speak a little different than Ben. As was the case in his previous class setting, the teachers adore him and speak highly of him (other than his biting) But Ben is the one who steals all the thunder at home.

Helpers

Purim is over and Pesach is coming and I have 2 of the cutest cleaning helpers ever. Need proof...here it is. But they don't really speak English too well. And they're not for hire.

 Help a brother out, man ;)

Shall we dance?

Torah Tidbit

When children call their parents in the middle of the night, they just cry. They don’t even call, “Mother, Father….” They just cry. How does it feel when your baby cries at night? It’s a taste of how G-d felt when the High Priest was calling His Name on Yom Kippur.

attributed to (Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach)
Receive a short teaching of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach posted on your facebook wall once a day. Sign up to www.facebooktorah.com I'm not gonna tell you I'm promoting this site cause I don't know anything about it and it could be spam bots or otherwise annoying. Just ask my dad. His name and email recently got sold from a list he was on that he donated once to the Sierra Club - I'm sure my Earth Science teacher mother probably wanted the poster that was the free giveaway with the donation for her kids :)  Since this kind of thing is generally annoying and particularly so for the one who lives in front of the computer, I refuse to add more spam/junk mail to the system. Off my soapbox for now...Then again, one man's trash is another man's treasure - but that's how hoarding starts and that's a WHOLE other soapbox post.

What I really wanted to say was this:
This tidbit really spoke to me today, especially since I have not had a full night's sleep (in several years, probably) due to one or another of my kids crying at night. Of course I wake up to comfort them and sometimes I wake up and find them in my bed even if I didn't hear their cries. Most nights it is one of the toddlers that doesn't have the words to ask for comfort for what really bothers them. They cry outright and start to wander the house looking for me if, for example I haven not yet made it to bed and/or am crashed out on the couch. Other nights it is a whimper from my daughter's bed that has me running to check on her especially since she is usually so stoic and only has meltdown and crying fits when she is REALLY tired or upset about something. And some nights I don't hear anything at all, but wake up to find my oldest has wrapped himself around our legs and did not cry out, but still searched us out for comfort. I don't usually mind the sleeplessness until it is a culmination or I am fighting off an illness. It seems like the least I can do for these kids who spend most of their waking hours away from me, so at least I can comfort them in the still of the night. And since it is never completely dark in my house, I always leave the lights on somewhere, they will always be able to look for me.

Daughter-Date Drama

An emailed note to my daughter's pre-school Montessori teacher: 

On our mother daughter date last night, Yael and I had quite an adventure – maybe too much for such a tender age. (she's 5 going on 35 if you don't know her personally)

A gentleman at the next table fainted or something from what I can only assume was a diabetic shock since they had him sipping orange juice. That and that the woman who eventually turned up - pretty quickly, actually, even before the paramedics - in a bathrobe and slippers to help him was going on about insulin.

One of the people at the table (or maybe it was kitchen staff, hard to tell with my hurried glances) was holding the gentleman up so he wouldn’t crash to the floor with his arms over his head and his head bobbing about. Yael alerted me to the situation before I saw what was happening. She claims she saw something white on the man’s chest and I SO hope it wasn’t that the man was foaming at the mouth or something and that maybe it was an insulin port or something of the like.

In any case, one of the staff called 911, despite the gentleman’s friends not wanting to have them called. During the time she was making the call I moved Yael to the front of the store and faced her toward the door so she wouldn’t see any more of the dramatic scene. I bought her some candy from a machine at the door (the whole reason she likes to go there) and assured her that help was on the way. The paramedics arrived in a fire truck with lights blazing (and thankfully no siren) and as soon as we saw them calmly entering with their rescue gear and paperwork, we took the M&Ms and left.

At this point she was both scared and maybe a little more than vaguely curious and I was glad to see from my quick glances that the man seemed to be conversing from his prone position laid out on the tabletop. I was able to assure her wholeheartedly that he was in good hands and being well taken care of and would probably go to the hospital. I finally remembered our 911 game. We took the opportunity to play – and I assured her that YES, this was definitely a situation in which 911 should be called and I tried to make it as normal as possible. She had a million questions as to why the fire truck showed up instead of an ambulance and I tried to answer as straightforward as I could, including a discussion about paramedics and firemen and a bed on wheels in the ambulance called a gurney. Such curiosity!!!

We continued on to a different place and she still seemed to enjoy her (late) night out. So if she’s tired or has a million questions today, please be patient and let her talk out this really dramatic (and I hope not too traumatic) experience. 

Then again, it may just be a regular day in the life of Yael.