Monday, June 16, 2008


I remember hoping, back in 2001 as my oldest was getting ready for first grade, that he would have good teacher. That he would have a teacher who challenged him, pushed him, and taught him. Long before this blog, on Air Time the Newsletter, I remember writing a poem about hopes that I had for my oldest. I don't think these thoughts are unique; I would be surprised if every parent didn't have the same hopes and fears when sending their oldest to first grade.

Over the course of his elementary education I have not been a hands-on parent. I have tried to get out of going to almost every teachers conference, and tried to avoid the ridiculous programs that they try to get parents to come to. Sometimes I have been able to get out of it, other times I suffered through the productions, hoping to sit next to someone who I could talk to, always pissing Veev off with my indifference to the event and my desire to be home.

But tonight is different. I think that graduating sixth grade is an accomplishment, much more so than my daughter's graduation from Gan later this week. Hi graduates at the top of his class, a position he held before Aliyah, and one that is a much greater accomplishment than beforehand, as he is performing in a stellar manner in his second language.

I'm sure, as the proceedings drag on, I will pray for deliverance from the room in which I am emprisoned. And yet, I look forward to being there, watching him graduate, and seeing him finish his elementary education.

Sunday, June 15, 2008


How do you trust yourself as a parent?
How do you be sure you've taught your kids properly?
How do you let go?

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Oh Cursed Watermelon!

Air and I have had a long, ugly relationship with watermelon. One summer Friday, when we were first married, we bought several bags worth of fruit and vegetables. Unfortunately, we forgot and we left the watermelon in the trunk all Shabbos. By the time we got it out, the car stank. And it remained stinky until we sold it 3 years later.

Over the years, there have been other stories like this, but I will relate only two more.

Last Friday, I put a watermelon on the floor of the pantry since it was a hot day and there wasn't any room in the fridge. On Shabbos morning my daughter told me it was sticky on the floor of the pantry. The watermelon incurred a crack in it as I placed it on the floor and spent the whole night leaking out and all over the floor. Yuck! After Shabbos, it fell out of the garbage bag and made a huge mess on the kitchen floor.

Today I tried again and bought another watermelon. As I set it down on the ground with the other bags so I could shut the car door, it rolled out of the bag. And down the street. Down. The. Street. We live on a hill. I was quite a sight chasing the watermelon down the hill and stopping traffic. I did get it in the end, and lugged it up the hill again.

There don't seem to be any visable bruises, but I'm not sure whether it's going to make it to Shabbos.

*Update* The watermelon was cracked as evidenced by the puddle in the bag. And Air cut it up pre-Shabbos.

Monday, June 02, 2008

What a Week

Sidney Pollack
Tommy Lapid
Bo Diddley
Our friend's young brother-in-law