Last Day

In Detroit the last day of school used to mean so much more to me. I was a teacher there, for one thing, and I was mixed up with the feeling of "WHOOOHOOO! SUMMER VACATION", and the feeling of "Did I accomplish what I wanted with a class that I only have the privilege of teaching for 180 days of their lives?"

And then there's - what are my kids going to do during the in-between week before camp starts? How much TV are they going too watch? How many times can I take them to Ceasarland before I go nuts?

This year it's different. School ends today, the last possible day in June, as is traditional in the public elementary schools here. Camp starts already on Sunday, so there's no in-between time. Also, camp is for the same amount of time every day, or longer, in some cases, so there's no empty space to fill. There's no homework during the summer, though, and there's no camp on Fridays. So that's good.

Why Couldn't I Sleep?

Last night I only fell asleep at 4 a.m. Why, you ask?

There are several possibilities:

1. I inadvertently had caffeine in the morning and my heart was still racing.
2. Air watched 8 Mile last night and I was in the room with him. The violence of the movie and the beat of "Lose Yourself" make me nervous.
3. My baby brother's engagement party was last night and I missed it. I can hardly even picture where it was held.
4. I suddenly realized that I'm going to have my own room in a strange hotel in the Czech Republic for eight nights. While that sounded like a fun idea at the onset, now I'm thinking, not so much.
5. Need $$, have only $.
6. I'm in the process of choosing a surgeon - yes, a surgeon! - to remove our five year old's adenoids. With a knife!
7. The Pizza Shul might have been bombed had our glorious Shin-Bet not stepped in.
8. When we go to Detroit this summer, are my kids going to want to come back home?
9. Air's good friend's dad passed away last week. Too close to home.
10. Air and I walked last night starting at 10 p.m. Not good for getting to sleep on time.

I think that's all for now. Thanks for the group-therapy.

Watch the game!

The inaugural Israel Baseball League Opening day game will be broadcast on PBS July 1st, 11:00 and 4:30. Don't know whether that's AM or PM, or if it will be everywhere or just NY area.

Whoohoo!

After 3-4 weeks of walking 40 minutes, 3-4 times a week, and counting points (usually), I am now down to the weight I was after my oldest was born and nursed for half a year. Oh well. I started Weight Watchers then and lost 20 pounds to get to my goal weight which was my wedding weight. I have lost 8 pounds now and I have 20 to go.

I hope the seamstress can keep taking in my gown!

Only in Israel?

I took our new car to the car wash today because it's free with the lease. The guy who's responsible to spray the strawberry stuff in the car was wearing a white Detroit Tigers hat. One of those white-on-white D hats. Since it's not unusual to see random teams' hats, shirts, and jerseys here, I asked him in Hebrew (a little smugly, actually) if he's ever been to Detroit. He answered me in English that he didn't speak Hebrew. Hmmm..

"Ever been to Detroit?" I asked him.

"Born and bred," he said with a smile.

"ME TOO!!!!" OK, that's not REALLY true... "What part?" I asked him.

"Dearborn." Ohhhhh. OK, then.

B'Kitzur, he speaks Arabic, English, and a pretty good Russian because of his sister-in-law, and he moved here for a better life. Apparently life isn't as rosy in Detroit as it is in Oak Park. He told me point-blank that life is so much more peaceful here than it was back home.

Interesting. I guess he hasn't wandered into downtown Sderot lately.

Bloody, Bloody Wednesday

Last night was our final game of the season in flag football, and we had a great time! I'll paint you a scenario, though, of an event that changed my life forever:

Two minutes left in the game against the defensewomen of the national team, and we were already black and blue. These girls know how to put the "contact" into "non-contact" sports. They aren''t allowed to use their hands to defend against us, but they have no qualms whatsoever using the rest of their bodies to slam into us any chance they get. Have I mentioned that these girls are about 17 years old and 9 feet tall?

I posted right (Eema, that means I run diagonally towards the lamppost on the right) and buttonhooked (that means I turn halfway around so I'm looking directly at my quarterback). And I made the catch for the first down, which is good because we were already at fourth down (sorry, Eem, ask Ab to explain the rest of this...) WITH MY FACE! And my hands. That's right, the torpedoed football landed right on the top of my nose! I caught the ball, dropped it (no fumbles in flag football), and dropped to my knees with stinging eyes and nose. Thankfully, our wide receiver is also an ER nurse at Shaarei Tzedek. Not only did she medically know what to do, she also knows how to calm someone down who is having her FIRST nosebleed. I do recall asking my team, through my tears, if they were enjoying their official time-out. With my first down we had a chance for the touchdown, and this was a much-needed break. The only thing I wanted to do was to keep playing, but it wasn't meant to be. The two minutes ran out before I could get back on the field.

Ah, there's always next season.

Mystery

This morning I found a small white cloth with some spices in it, held together by a red piece of yarn in my daughter's room. I asked her about it, and she told me she didn't know where it came from, it was just on her bed last night when she went to sleep.

Interesting to note that there were several strangers our house yesterday evening, as it was said daughter's birthday party. Any ideas?

I Have a Lot to Say - First Installment

I have been biding my time for the past three weeks and not bothering to post because what is on my mind and what I was allowed to blog about were not the same.

My brother got engaged last night, and I am absolutely thrilled. I spoke to the Kallah for the first time at 1:15 a.m. when I got the call, and I think we need more time to get to know each other. She seems lovely and the pictures of her show a pretty, kind young woman. Here's what I know:

She's smart.
She's quiet.
She's nice to my brother.
She's mature (read: older than said brother, which is good, by the way).
She's from a normal family.
She works in a clothing store as a manager or buyer, not sure.
She actually WANTS to live in Passaic.
She wants me to wear silver or grey at her wedding.
Her ring is stunning.
She likes my family.

Welcome, Sista! Now you're one of us, God help you.