Teaching Children to “Swim” Gives Them Wings to Fly
If a typical Jewish mother is notorious for one thing, besides a curious habit to discuss dinner plans at lunchtime, it’s the genetic disposition to love her child too much. I realize there are exceptions to this rule, but I’m not one of them. I spoil my kids, not so much with material things, but in a maternal way. In fact, I was the neurotic parent in playgroup who carried an apple corer and peeler in my diaper bag so that my infant son could nibble on a fresh, wholesome snack at the park.
Even now, I rarely leave the house without packing a “little something†in case Jack or Sari gets a hunger pang. When I take the kids to the swimming pool for lessons, for example, my oversized turquoise tote bag is so weighed down with bottled waters, granola bars, cantaloupe balls, and spare change, that I have no room for sunscreen. When the Talmud says, “a father is obligated to teach his child to swim,†I don’t think toting snacks are what the Jewish thinkers had in mind. Continue reading
Children Teach Parents Lessons in Life
As parents, we are our children’s first teachers. Never mind the fact that I haven’t understood my son’s math homework since he was in third grade. However, when it comes to life lessons, such as teaching the value of helping others, Judaism takes our responsibility as good role models very seriously. In fact, the Hebrew word for parents, horim, shares the same root word morim, which means teacher.
Still, I have to admit that the roles are often reversed in my home, and my kids are the teachers who show me what really is important. I just have to keep my eyes and ears open at all times. Continue reading
Turn Your Dinner Table Into an “Altar”
When I was a child growing up in the 70s and the television classic “Leave it to Beaver†was considered a reality show, one of my most vivid everyday family rituals was the Dinner Hour. The Dinner was the same—on Mondays, broiled chicken sprinkled with nothing more than paprika, not even salt—and so was the Hour—five o’clock when my dad walked in the back door from work and emptied the car keys in his pockets.
Charlotte, that’s my mom, followed the old-fashioned food pyramid like it was one of the Commandments: A mother shall serve her children a protein (preferably dried out), two vegetables, one starch, a glass of cold low fat milk, and, on special occasions, lime gelatin with sliced bananas for dessert. Continue reading
The Holiness of Chores Makes a Great Boredum Buster
Nothing sends chills up my spine more than when my kids whine, “I’m borrrrred.†How is boredom possible when our three-car garage is so jam-packed with bikes, scooters, skates and every size ball imaginable that I can barely squeeze my van into it? Never mind the pogo stick, jump ropes, sidewalk chalk, bubbles, water balloons, and countless Frisbees that I can’t seem to get rid of. If the temperature is above freezing, I usually push them out the door and order them to “Go Play!â€
When the fresh air becomes intoxicating, however, my kids venture indoors for something to do after they raid the refrigerator again. Continue reading
Answering the Big Question: “Is There A God?”
One of the most significant passages into parenthood is when your child innocently asks you the BIG question—the one Jewish parents plotz over because they fear that if they don’t answer it perfectly, their child will wind up in therapy.
For many of us, the question, “Is there a God?,†raises more anxiety than the birds-and-the-bees conversation. For me, these significant bonding moments usually occur when I least expect it, like while I drive my mini van down I-64 with Jack and Sari in tow and try to search for a Neil Diamond CD and hand sanitizer all at the same time. Continue reading
Honor Thy Father and Mother
Before David Letterman had a “Top 10†list, God made the original “Top 10,†as in Commandments. Coming in at number five—“Honor Thy Father and Mother—†is therefore key to raising self reliant children.
Obviously, God was serious about parental respect. Not until I had children of my own, however, did I truly appreciate this logic. In fact, I swore I’d never say things like “because I said so†when my kids would ask me why they can’t stay up 30 minutes past their bedtime. Sometimes I give such lengthy explanations they even forgot their original question.
For example, I might ramble, “You need to go to bed right now because you had a sleepover the other night, and you were up really late, and you need to be well rested for your spelling test tomorrow, and besides if you don’t get enough sleep you will be sick, and you don’t want to miss your best friend’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese’s.â€
By now, they surely are exhausted, and cover their own head with a pillow to block out the sound of my voice.
The philosophy here is to teach kids early on who is boss and to be consistent until they leave the nest, if only it were that easy.
Many parents in my generation give their kids a say so in anything and everything, maybe because we feel guilty for not spending quality time with our family. Truth is, my children don’t need me as their friend, but they need a role model to look up to, an authority figure who isn’t a wimp when it comes to saying “no.†Judaism says the best place to start is respect, or teaching the virtue of derech eretz (the way of the land) by emphasizing good old-fashioned manners like saying “please†and “thank you†and, of course, wiping the toilet seat.
Then again, parents have to pick their battles, and one of my biggest pet peeves is when Sari calls me by my first name “Ellie.†She only yells out my first name in “emergencies,†such as when she freaks out about a tornado siren, when Luci, our toy poodle, chews another napkin out of the trash, or whenever she can’t find her favorite white sandals with the flower. The last time she hollered “Ellie,†I calmly explained to her that children don’t call their parents by their first names because it doesn’t show respect. I warned her that the next time she calls me “Ellie,†I will ignore her, even if a funnel cloud is overhead. I went on to suggest more appropriate titles, such as mom, mommy, mama, Ima, or even mother dearest. There I go again with the choices—another weakness of mine.
We often teach what we need to learn, and the lesson to honor God starts with respecting ourselves and each other. As always, this takes a lot of time and energy.
“Mishegas of Motherhood†is the creation of Ellie S. Grossman, a St. Louis freelance writer and stay-at-home-mom who never stays home. Her stories are inspired by the real life of her family, including her two children, toy poodle named Luci, and her husband, but not necessarily in that order. Feel free to send any comments, prayers or recipes to ellie@mishegasofmotherhood.com.