This past week, I went on vacation with myself. Notice I say “with myself” and not “by myself” because the point was to spend time with myself, reacquaint me to myself, and listen to the sound of my own mind.
When you’re generally a pretty organized person who usually puts things back in the same places each time, and the night before your flight to Israel, Saturday night, you check your drawer for your passport and it’s not there, you’d be excused for freaking out. Which is what I did.
Where is the line between religious conformity and religious abuse?
For those of you who are actual adults, you may not be aware that you’re involved in a new millennial sport, and perhaps have been for some time: adulting.
Here’s a nice old-fashioned schmoozy post like we used to do. How have you all been? Me, good. Gonna fill you in on where I’ve been and what’s been happening. This is the behind-the-scenes me, not the professionally polished writer you’ve gotten accustomed to (cough, cough).
My baby is turning 9 and I’m so grateful for long views and second chances. As our oldest kids are now young adults, my regrets for my parenting mistakes when they were small play a big role in how we parent this little one.
“After Pesach” – the words are haunting me now. For weeks as we prepared for the holiday of Passover, everything else got relegated to the “later” pile: after Pesach. Camp forms – after Pesach. Figure out why the bank is charging my daughter a $7 fee each month – after Pesach. Deal with the swamp in the backyard each time it rains (which is daily) – after Pesach.