The Campbell-Reidhead WAR

matilda

2009-07-17T18:11:00.010+03:00

I've spent hours staring at the mess of wires and tubes from the foot of her bed. Some red, blue, yellow, and green, some clear, blood-streaked, or fluid-filled, and some even unnervingly empty. My eyes fixate on one and unsuccessfully search for its source; or if I've eyeballed that first, then search instead for its puncture. They beep, they pump, they crick along as if someone is creeping through the hallway of an aged house. Her breathing pattern, not unlike her spirit, keeps the machine on its toes as it marches to its own rhythmic flow: one, two, three deep and labored gasps and then nothing, silence until you reach the count of eleven and then a loud almost mocking release.

This is Matilda.

Now they know her.

And yes, sweetheart we remain on our toes, counting each withheld breathe, every moment of silence, and rejoicing with every release as though there never was anyone alive quite like you. Because there never was (and never will be) anyone alive quite like you. So keep us guessing, keep us aware, keep us here with you...life is just now getting to know you...

van, today, you are old.

2009-07-07T01:33:00.006+03:00

when you are old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man (woman) loved the pilgrim soul in you

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars

(Yeats)

happy birthday.

Its not me, its Israel (...and Belgium, and Haiti)

2009-07-03T13:43:00.003+03:00

I am a really good guest. Seriously. If you lend me a modest house in your country, I will play by your rules, I will attempt to learn your language, I will even borrow a few of your mannerisms and perhaps even your sense of style. I will ebb and flow with the varying dictates of female modesty. I will not require the comforts of my home and will try my best to find comfort in yours. I will put forth a reasonable amount of effort to keep all of my expectations low to better enjoy whatever you may present to me. I will befriend your natives, and open my mind to their way of thinking. I will eat your food and publicly forsake my own. And I will not complain. Well, not in your presence, I will leave that for my Congressionally-mandated trips home. Thus, I am a great trailing spouse, eligible family member, or whatever derogatory term you deem fit. I am malleable, flexible, bendy as the Brits say - see I even take on your slang.

That being said, I have, for the last ten years of my life, suppressed the frustrations of living abroad . So to all of my former home countries: its not me, its you.
I, as an American, have endured daily insults from each and every nationality known to man. I have politely suffered venomous verbal attacks, hatred, and yes, anti-American bigotry. I have laughed at our own idiocy, apologized for our actions and inactions alike. And this is what I've learned: everyone hates that they love us just as much as they love to hate us. We are blamed for everything, and forgiven nothing. Yet, we never get credit for all that we do right ...and I've seen time and time again that we do actually do quite a bit right. I've learned as well, that one of the greatest attributes of Americans is the one most lacking in others: a healthy dose of self-criticism. Therefore, I'm gonna force a little criticism outward this once... So, poor sweet Israel, you must bear the burden of my wrath. I can no longer keep it in, I'm feeling an overwhelming need to purge myself of those frustrations particular to living here. (minus the politically-charged ones, and there are even more of those, 'cause I do want Van to keep his job!)

DISCLAIMER, or perhaps more appropriately, WARNING: If you are Israeli, then this will undoubtedly come off insulting. But you are a strong people and I think you can take a friendly jab or two...at least I hope...AND if you are not Israeli or have never lived here, then this will most likely fail in any or all attempts at hilarity, but then again that's likely to be the case regardless...

You know you've been in Israel too long when...

1. when your children scream, "Look a kibbutz!!!" when they drive past a farm in rural Missouri.

2. when you find yourself in a shoving match while in the checkout line with a 75 yr.old woman, and feel very little, okay, no shame...

3. when your child answers the question, "where are you from?" with something like this, "I'm Israeli, but my ancestors are from America."

4. when your child looks to you dumbfounded whenever people ask which state we are from.

5. when, upon returning to the states, you find yourself opening your purse for whomever is standing near the entrance to a store or building (only stopping yourself before insisting that they rifle through it...)

6. when you suddenly feel the need to have more children...and feel out of place when you are not pregnant...

7. when you have an entire space reserved in your freezer for bread products (hametz), just in case there is an unexpected holiday...and hence no bread in the stores...

8. when your child frantically screams, "Mom what are you doing????? You cannot mix milk with meat!!!!!!!!!!"or interrupts any meal preparation with the question, "Are those ingredients kosher?" (remember we are not Jewish)

9. when you know and can speak rudimentary Russian

10. when your children have theological debates - regularly.

11. when your children understand the intricacies of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict so well that they liken them to preschool social infighting...

12. when you almost think to wear stiletto heels to the Safari Park

13. when you almost think to wear a headscarf (and cover your arms and legs) to the Safari Park.

14. when it no longer excites your husband to watch young Israeli female soldiers reveal bikinis under their uniforms at the beach. at least no longer in your presence...(sorry guys no pictures to share on this one, you'll just have to use your imagination or get a job working at the embassy so you can just leer out the window overlooking the beach)

15. when your children think that anyone who speaks English works with their father.

16. when you find yourself wondering what the line in the middle of the road is for...(two lanes of traffic??? you mean to tell me that there are other people driving???)

17. when squirrels are an exotic animal (...and your kids are mesmerized by tales of America where these wild beasts roam free..)

18. you overhear this conversation,
Amelia: "What do we celebrate for 4th of July, if its a holiday then did G*d do something special?"
Anna: "Yes, we celebrate being freed from British rule and G*d helped,"
Amelia: "Oh, did G*d free the Jewish people from the British too"
Anna: "Probably. G*d loves the Jewish people"
Amelia: "Oh, but he doesn't love the British people so much."
Anna: "yeah. not as much cause they aren't freed yet."

19. when your children no longer freak out to hear Israeli mothers scream "DIE!! Die!!!Die!!!" to their babies...translated that means "enough! enough!!! enough!!!"

20. if you get hit on when you are nine months pregnant - regularly. (this is not a testament to how good I look while pregnant, no one ever hit on me anywhere else in the world whilst swollen with child - oh, except for Paris - but they're French)

dadsdadsdadsdadsdadsdads....

2009-06-21T19:45:00.046+03:00

Happy Father's Day Dad!!!!!!

We are sending kisses across the seas and bursting with pent up grandpa love!!!!! We miss you and feel horrible that we aren't with you....here are some photos we took today....the girls puckering up...

they also had fun practicing what is now a sort of father's day tradition - imitating Van, though somehow this year they decided to include me in the fun (and the making fun of....)

...and Happy Father's Day to Van (sr.) and Gary, we are wishing you much love!

Van!!!!!

We LOVE you!!!!!!!!!! Two poems that remind me of you and fatherhood... A Prayer For My Daughter

Once more the storm is howling, and half hid

Under this cradle-hood and coverlid

My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle

But Gregory’s wood and one bare hill

Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind,

Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;

And for an hour I have walked and prayed

Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.

I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour

And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,

And under the arches of the bridge, and scream

In the elms above the flooded stream;

Imagining in excited reverie

That the future years had come,

Dancing to a frenzied drum,

Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.

May she be granted beauty and yet not

Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught,

Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,

Being made beautiful overmuch,

Consider beauty a sufficient end.

Lose natural kindness and maybe

The heart-revealing intimacy

That chooses right, and never find a friend.

Helen being chosen found life flat and dull

And later had much trouble from a fool,

While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray,

Being fatherless could have her way

Yet chose a bandy-legged smith for man.

It’s certain that fine women eat

A crazy salad with their meat

Whereby the Horn of plenty is undone.

In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;

Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned

By those that are not entirely beautiful;

Yet many, that have played the fool

For beauty’s very self, has charm made wise.

And many a poor man that has roved,

Loved and thought himself beloved,

From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.

May she become a flourishing hidden tree

That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,

And have no business but dispensing round

Their magnanimities of sound,

Nor but in merriment begin a chase,

Nor but in merriment a quarrel.

O may she live like some green laurel

Rooted in one dear perpetual place.

My mind, because the minds that I have loved,

The sort of beauty that I have approved,

Prosper but little, has dried up of late,

Yet knows that to be choked with hate

May well be of all evil chances chief.

If there’s no hatred in a mind

Assault and battery of the wind

Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.

An intellectual hatred is the worst,

So let her think opinions are accursed.

Have I not seen the loveliest woman born

Out of the mouth of plenty’s horn,

Because of her opinionated mind

Barter that horn and every good

By quiet natures understood

For an old bellows full of angry wind?

Considering that, all hatred driven hence,

The soul recovers radical innocence

And learns at last that it is self-delighting,

Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,

And that its own sweet will is Heaven’s will;

She can, though every face should scowl

And every windy quarter howl

Or every bellows burst, be happy still.

And may her bridegroom bring her to a house

Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious;

For arrogance and hatred are the wares

Peddled in the thoroughfares.

How but in custom and in ceremony

Are innocence and beauty born?

Ceremony’s a name for the rich horn,

And custom for the spreading laurel tree.

(Yeats, 1921)

On the Birth of His Son

Families, when a child is born

Want it to be intelligent.

I, through intelligence,

Having wrecked my whole life

Only hope the baby will prove

Ignorant and stupid.

Then he will crown a tranquil life

By becoming a Cabinet Minister.

(Su Tung-p'o, c.1070)

The beginning of the end...

2009-06-19T23:42:00.023+03:00

As we began the school's year-end goodbyes, it became evident to us all that our time here is nearing its end. Though Anna is probably the most excited for the move to London, with Van a close second, it did not soften the loss she felt this week. Her friends, her teachers, and pretty much her way of life is falling away piece by piece, friend by friend; their partings accompanied by an occasional cry or lamenting sigh... No more bus stop full of friends at the beach, no more classroom bomb shelters which actually might get used, no more mom-induced trips to that same damn beach and its menacing ways (sand, eczema-torturing salt, and more sand)...Eliska, Anna, and Ms. Friedman (above), Tessa and Anna (below)Now I have to get back to packing and organizing.....shhhh, I'm really on my way to the beach!

!!!!!!happy birthday susan!!!!!!!!!

2009-06-16T18:28:00.023+03:00

we LOVE Susan. WE. LOVE. SUSAN.

amelia loves susan...and says, "thank you for my beautiful eyes"

matilda loves susan...and says, "wagaguubabababa" translated that would say, "thank you for my lack of shame for bodily sound effects, " (uh-um)
anna loves susan...and says, "thank you for my talented hands"

i love susan...and say, "thank you for being a loving and caring mom-in-law" (When people ask how I get along with Van's mom, I reply, everytime, "I married into greatness.")

van loves susan...and says, "thanks for all the blankets," (his original response was "thanks for me" ;)

So as you can see, you are much loved over here in Israel.

You are, quite simply, my hero.

Happy is this day, that you were brought into this world!

I Heart Faces - Week 23 - kids photo contest

2009-06-15T17:37:00.017+03:00

On a whim, I decided to take a shot at a photo contest... >This week's theme is sepia toned. So I tweeked a recent photo, feeling it has a timeless sort of quality about it, and ziezo! (Forgive the repetitious photo and the lack of relevance to the usual grandchild-updating task of this blog)

to see all entries and check out the website click on:
http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/

!!!!!!!!!!!!!Happy Birthday Dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-06-11T13:35:00.018+03:00

We love and miss you! Here are a few birthday wishes from your sweet girls:Amelia says: I love you and hug you and kiss you. I want to come to your house. You are my best grandpa ever. And you come to my house in London where I'll miss you and kiss you and come visit. And I want to come to your house two times a day. You play games with me like duck duck goose and I'll miss you forever and ever till the end of time...and I wish you will be happy all the time and have a happy birthday!!!!!! Oh and lest we forget her requisite song, I like to move it move it, I like to move it move it, I like to MOVE IT. (visualize Amelia shaking her booty)Anna says: Happy birthday grandpa. I just want to hug you (unlike my little sister!) I can't wait to see you (like my little sister). And I missed you in heaven in the dinosaur time until the universe explodes (unlike my LITTLE sister, but kind of like her). And I wish you will be happy all the time (like my little sister). And you'll need to play duck duck goose (like my little sister). And I'll look at all of the birds outside in your garden its so cool (unlike my LITTLE sister). Happy birthday ( like my little sister)

Matilda says: WAAaaahhhhhhh!!! woah! woof woof. hiiiahhhh, hoo, hoo, whap!heeeyyy!shoe, shoe SHOE! (Unlike both sisters...)

(Better rest up old man cause we are a comin' soon!)

shavuot

2009-05-29T15:05:00.031+03:00

Friday was Shavuot, the Festival of Weeks. Shavuot celebrates G*d's giving of the Torah to Moses and the Israelites, ends the 7 week observance of the Omar (or period of exile in Egypt which begins with Passover), and honors the customary festivities of the first seasonal harvest. Everywhere people decorate with flowers and symbolically eat seasonal fruits. (Like a perfect storm of flowers, religious fervor, and hippiedom, Amelia's dream world was finally met with the real one - before an eyelash could be bat, flowers were everywhere. By the end of the day, there were more flowers in, on, and around our house than at my wedding. Amelia was in heaven.)

Below are pictures from Amelia's gan...notice how her headpiece grew in extravagance throughout the day...apparently "daddy is no good at this kind of stuff, I need mom to beautify me!" so, on our way home we picked flowers from nearly every neighbor's yard (sorry neighbors!). In fact we spent the entire afternoon walking, exploring, and picking flowers. Mom was in heaven.

the final product: the progression:
an argument over who has prettier flowers ensues...hence, the need for further work... finally success:)

Fearing her sister's wrath, Amelia decided to share her disregarded headpiece with Anna after a few embellishments - it actually worked out quite nicely since Anna's favorite color is blue...

Happy Shavuot!

druse villages, mountains, and waterfalls

2009-05-27T15:13:00.042+03:00

My relationship with Israel is nothing if not sordid and complex. It seems that as soon as I grow accustomed to any particular feeling, something happens to either challenge my initial belief or, more often, to alter it completely. After three years, I've come to accept that I will never feel one way toward Israel - my attitude is and forever will be in a constant state of flux; sometimes erupting with great passion and exuberance and others with little fanfare, silently marking its impression. But always, it seems, at the mercy of each player's last move. Words here mean so little to me now...

And so it was with our recent venture up North to the Golan Heights and its bordering towns (by way of the waterfalls and back down through Tiberias --- with a little detour to grab some baptismal water from the Jordan River). In that short trip, my emotions were tugged in every direction - pulled this way by the weight of loyalty or past experience or that way through fear for the future,

but anchored, nonetheless, by a need for hope. and a need for a more souped up (child-entertaining) minivan...

burn,baby,burn

2009-05-15T13:15:00.002+03:00

The smell of Haiti permeated the air, the sun struggled to penetrate the hazed sky above, the asthmatic coughs of children filled my ears, and the grainy taste of soot and ash clung stubbornly to my tongue. Yes, if you've ever lived in Tel Aviv you probably guessed we just survived another Lag B'Omer. Otherwise referred to by the girls as the "fire holiday", Lag B'Omer is a day long reprieve from the restrictions adhered to during the Omar, which beginning with Passover, marks the 49 days exile in Egypt and ends with Shavout. Many celebrate with picnics, family outings, and most notably with bonfires on the beach. Unfortunately, due to Anna's severe asthma, we could not partake in the festivities this year. In fact, she had to carry her inhaler around with her for two days after...
(we did however watch Elmo's "Firehouse" DVD, ate burnt pizza, and took turns singing Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire on the karaoke machine - we may not celebrate Israeli holidays quite as intended, but again you have to give us credit for creativity)
...here are pictures pre-bonfire time

---Amelia's preschool had a family visit to the firehouse before their busiest day of the year!

Happy Mother's Day!!!!!!!

2009-05-10T13:56:00.000+03:00

Mom!

Happy Mother's Day!

WE love and miss you so much! I've been trying to come up with something clever, something unexpected, something that I haven't said year after year, but this is all that came to mind:

1. I love you.

true, very true, but unoriginal to say the least and hardly expressive of how deeply it is felt.

2. My appreciation for you grows by the year.

sometimes by the day, okay sometimes by the minute if we are talking about Anna,

3. Thanks for being so good at the whole mom thing.

thanks for not giving me up for adoption or leaving me on the side of the road - though I specifically remember at least one very strong threat that insinuated similar action - and in hindsight it was justified!

4. Thanks for being so supportive.

thanks for talking to me after I told you Van and I were moving in together, and then again when I told you we were moving to HAiti, and then again with Tel Aviv, and then again when I told you I was having a third - though I can't be certain since it was over the phone, and on and on...

5. Thanks for loving me when I was unlovable.

1987-93 and again during the first and second pregnancies, oh yeah and three months after each was born...

6. And thank you for always being there for us.

though we never seem to be physically there to celebrate you...sorry. again.

If necessary, I plan to deflect any misgivings with a cheap, but reliable shot:

Have a Happy Day Mom! And Happy Mother's Day Susan and Mary Ann, I am so lucky to have such supportive, smart, and interesting women in my life. Not many can say that with out a little tongue biting and eye-twitching about their mother-in-laws!

.......And to all my moms (Susan, Betty, and MaryAnn) and friends who waste their time reading this blog:
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me...I have been swallowed up by another virtual world and have neglected this one. Don't fret, though I have a month's worth of pictures itching to be exposed, I will attempt to edit so that you do not all die of boredom. I will also keep the writing to a minimum 'cause my newer, shinier obsession is whispering sweet updates in my ear and I just can't seem to tear myself away. (translation: I joined facebook -- Yes, I am painfully aware that its a tad juvenile, and admit fully that I am moderately pathetic. I assure you that as soon as I am done with this Internet sponsored highschool/college reunion - give it another week - my Weekly report will resume its weekliness.) Mama's start your gawking:

St. Louis over spring/Easter break: Thanks MaryAnn for the fantastic pics from the stables!

Israeli Independence day: recent random pics:

My favorite Hametz

2009-04-25T18:16:00.002+03:00

Last week, my Matilda Gael* turned one. She was born, April 17, 2008 in Netanya, Israel. Due to travelling, and an unsuccessful attempt to get a hold of pictures, this post is very overdue...

For those of you who have not had the pleasure, let me share with you the experience of giving birth in a small religious hospital on the Northern coast of Israel- on the eve of Passover...(disclaimer: my experience is not exactly typical; many opt to go to newer, more secular hospitals but in so doing they relinquish their choice of doctors and subsequent control over the entire birthing process. As well, it should be noted that few staff and doctors speak English.) Since I wanted a natural birth, I felt it incredibly important to have someone I could trust at the receiving end, so to speak...so I put my pregnant life in the hands of a shepherd-turned-obstetrician and braced myself for the endless requirements put upon women in the name of modesty - all the while promising myself not to morph into the ever-so-popular stereotype of the pampered American.

So there we were at the entrance of a small hospital a stone's throw from the beach, in the middle of an ultra-orthodox neighborhood, as everyone feverishly prepared for Passover. As is to be expected upon entering any building in Israel, our bags were searched. However, this inspection was more a search for hametz - anything leavened or unkosher- than bombs or other weapons . We were a little surprised when all of my candy was confiscated, but even more so to discover upon entering the hospital that the very same candy was available for purchase in the vending machines - seems a little bit of capitalism had crept into their passover purge. Not one to complain, uh-um, I soldiered on toward the maternity ward, where I was given three gowns. Three gowns!?! I politely told the nurse that she mistakenly gave me two extra gowns. Ah, but it was I who was mistaken, you see, the first two gowns were to overlap, to ensure modesty, and the third, well, I believe that was a form of insurance. Did I mention that Van was not allowed anywhere near me - again for reasons of modesty. Nevertheless, there I wait , alone, a little peeved that my contractions aren't speeding up enough to move to the natural birthing center. Oh, I should mention that due to the enormous size of my first two babies, I was only allowed entrance to their natural birthing center after my doctor performed an extra scan to reassure them that the baby was of a more normal size and that if anything went awry, my doctor accepted full liability. Lucky- or not- for me the scan was way off and Matilda ended up weighing in at over 9 1/2 lbs. I suppose the 40lbs weight gain should have tipped us off... Anyway it is at this point that my dr. breezes in, huddles over me, and says in a very hushed tone, "here, take this, QUICK, quick, before someones notices!" So like a teenager trying to make good with the cool kids, I do it. You learn real quick here that you NEVER argue with a doctor, particularly on their turf. and this was her turf. It felt as though my doctor slipped me a mickey...turns out it was a sort of homeopathic pill, meant to naturally help the contractions along, but since the birthing center restricted ANY unauthorized interventions my dr. felt compelled to go the subversive route. Which, I have to say, bonded us like giggly teenage girls.

Once into the birthing center, my doctor plopped herself on the bed, and told me to go take a walk down on the beach. hmmm???? Yes, it was an amazingly beautiful day. Yes, I hate being stuck in a room waiting for anything. And yes, the back and forth of the ocean waves hypnotically called to me "come and I will take your mind away from it all." But, um, is this really safe, I mean there's a cliff, and lots of rocks, and its a little far from the hospital when you really think about it?!? (I still suspect she just wanted to take a nap) But, Okay, so Van and I, and all three of my now very cumbersome gowns walked, and periodically stopped for shear pain, and walked some more until we were standing on a beautiful cliff overlooking the sea. It was actually one of those lost in time moments, that despite the growing pain, I will forever feel indebted to. And in keeping with the magic, my doctor appeared the instance my fears began to reemerge. So we walked, silently, peacefully, back to the hospital. And it was all down hill from there.....actually, it was the best birthing experience yet, but it was unmedicated, we were trying to avoid an episiotomy, and well, Matilda was HUGE, so the pain was intense. I only stayed in the hospital overnight, 12 hours, and believe me after the third cockroach and a careful removal of a dirty bandage - not mine- from my pillow, I was counting the minutes! So I sat upright, clutching Matilda for the entire night, moving only for the hourly hametz inspection by the police, I mean nurses...I'm not sure how they thought I might manage to smuggle contraband in the middle of the night...Everyone else managed to sleep through it all, because, of course, they had enough sense not to room-in. But I was a novice compared to my floormates, popping out only my third - they were all on #5 and #8, so sympathy was nowhere to be found. In fact, I was expected to change my own bedding and walk to the cafeteria for food and drinks. Oh, and after what is the most intense physical labor/pain of my life, I was offered a matza cracker, cucumbers, a pat of white cheese spread and water - nothing else. So Van got a hysterical call the next morning, and despite not understanding more than two words due to the screeching, came to rescue me. And now we have this AMAZING little baby who was never actually that little and I cannot believe that we thought we were done - clearly our family - and the world , for that matter - would have been deprived!!!!! She has been the most difficult of our babies, its been a tricky transition for her sisters, and three has proven itself to be MUCH more challenging than two, BUT, she has filled our lives in ways we never imagined and we, now, finally, feel complete. WE LOVE OUR MATILDA!

*Matilda's middle name was originally Yael partly in honor of my OB, but I came to my senses, realizing how one might at some point charge me with some form of child abuse....I mean Matilda Campbell-Reidhead is torture enough...

jet lag meets paint

2009-04-20T20:27:00.007+03:00

this is what happens when I have not slept for 3 days: my decision-making process takes a dramatic turn down the wrong path, the children's' collective happiness becomes more important than my future cleaning responsibilities, and, well, I fail to muster up enough energy to get upset...let's just say its a good day to be my kids...(ps. I'll have few backed up posts for all by the weekend if we can finally get some sleep around here...)

Happy Passover

2009-04-10T09:13:00.000+03:00

We've unexpectedly decided to eat our hametz (leavened food) openly and without shame in St. Louis with a bunch of other gentiles who look strikingly similar to us...
I'll explain at a later date how it is we, the shameless-expats-who-never-go-home-for-nothin-even-though-the-trip-is-for-free ended up going home for two weeks a mere two months away from our home leave, when our plans originally included a much anticipated trip to Cairo...
I'll post more when our little trip is nearing completion...

K-1 love

2009-04-03T09:46:00.004+03:00

The other day Anna learned the definition of betrothed. Without hesitation, Anna then asked that I put in a good word for her with Ori's mom, Mickey. Knowing both Ori and his family as I do, I have to say that for the first time in my life I think I see the rationale behind arranged marriages. Only I like Anna's version a little better since it affords a modicum of choice, and well, it doesn't completely put romantic love to the side - in fact, I find her two-yr. long long-distance pining romantic beyond measure. Here are a few pictures of their recent visit.... (pictures by me and Mickey)check out Anna's skirt....isn't it AMAzing????

When Ham is Kosher...

2009-03-31T00:09:00.010+03:00

Amelia.

From the moment Miss Holly's fingers hit the guitar during our first mommy-and-me class, it has been clear that this child is a performer. Her short stature and round features only attract more attention - and don't think for a moment that she hasn't figured this out. For now, far removed from Hollywood, its all in fun. And as long as her performing stays on the more respectable side, I'll surely support her - I've been a little disturbed by Amleia's creation "Diamond," who, she will tell you matter-of-factly,"dances for monies"... hmmmm...

Nevertheless, her talents have not gone unnoticed at her preschool/gan. Not long ago her school put on the play "Hat's For Sale" with Amelia as the main, actually only, speaking part. She memorized the entire play and performed it beautifully, alone. A one-woman-show. WE
WERE PROUD! And Anna was just as proud - if not more - until of course after about the fifth person gushed to her about how proud she should be of her little sister - "enough, already" she mumbled as we walked back to the car...

Viral Pangs

2009-03-29T01:46:00.016+03:00

For over a week now I have been without my computer. At first, I was overwhelmed with a sense of freedom, almost as though I'd been given an unexpected vacation. I wandered haphazardly through my days, living in the moment, embracing and cherishing each parent-child encounter. I realized that despite my requisite weekly laments there is (almost) time in the day to read, to sew, to clean and cook, as well as play with the kiddies and talk with my husband - face to top of the head (he still has his blackberry addiction). But just as soon as I realized this, almost simultaneously in fact, I missed the end-of-my-day computer time. I longed for the countless hours wasted googling absolutely everything that had the nerve to bother my day; I yearned for the narcissistic email checking; I salivated for the shopping that did not require actual human interaction or child-dragging through store aisles that exist for no other reason than to taunt their grabby hands. Perhaps my lesson should have been to slow down, to release myself from some of the self-imposed burdens of modern life, to refocus my sights both inward and outward. But instead, I succumbed to the dark side, slowly allowing myself to be devoured by a corrosive anxiety no less of a match for my soul as the virus for our computer.
And its because this is now how we live...
In the last ten minutes, I have discovered just how much damage is done by a week removed from email. I have missed outings, potentially lost a friend or more, most certainly alienated family, lost ebay bids - uh'um ignore that one, Van, missed Amelia's annual school picnic - grrrrr!, and, just as Van so unkindly insinuated the other day, the online retailers have in fact sent numerous emails inquiring as to my whereabouts! Did I mention that we also may not have peace in the middle east due to my email/computer hiatus! DOES ANYONE USE THE PHONE, or sit down for this one, COMMUNICATE WITH THEIR MOUTHS ANYMORE!!!!?????!!!!!?????

Now that I am back, and the world has resumed its orbit around the sun, I will be posting ALOT! Just give us a week to reformat the whole shebang! right now everything is in Hebrew -

Madonna's namesake, unfamiliar kings, and ear cookies

2009-03-10T19:46:00.067+02:00

Purim This week Israel celebrated the holiday of Purim, and of course, so did we - save for the fasting part - we are never so good at the fasting part - and the drinking to excess part - whether we are good at this part is a matter of debate. Purim is all about letting loose and celebrating the reversal of fortune --- think Mardi Gras meets Halloween with a biblical mandate. Anna and Amelia love Purim; if not for the costumes and the candies, then surely for the formulaic, fairytale-like story: there's a beautiful queen, a dumbfounded-but-ultimately-wise king, and a scheming bad guy who fails in his ruthless plotting -yep, you guessed it, the good guys win. If you are unfamiliar with the story of Esther let me try, in my pathetic way, to drudge through it with you: The beautiful young Esther catches the eye of the newly single (he offed his first wife Vashti for not following his orders) Persian King- what's- his- name, joins his harem, and becomes his favorite and subsequent queen. It is not long before her cousin Mordechai uncovers a plot by the king's advisor, Haman, to massacre the Jews. At great risk to her own life, Queen Esther is prodded by Mordechai to reveal her Jewish heritage to the King and ask him to spare her people such a bloody fate. His love for her overwhelms him and the King reverses the plot of Haman, thus saving the Jews. Fate, chance, and the reversal of man's intended outcome are themes that imbue the holiday and its celebrations. The wearing of masks and costumes follows this by enabling everyone to be the reverse or opposite of who they are; allowing for abnormal, even unchaste behavior. How far one takes this depends upon interpretation of the Talmud, but it does in fact command that one drink to utter confusion...hmmmm

In synagogues, during the reading of the Megilla (the book of Esther), noisemakers called ra'ashan are used whenever the name of Haman is spoken- the mood is therefore more jovial than is customary. Other practices include the exchange of sweets and food, the requisite feast following the requisite fast, and the giving of charity. The cookie of choice is the Hamentaschen - fashioned in the shape of Haman's ear? of all things - sounds kind of strange, but you get over it real quick since they are actually a triangular shape - and are sometimes made with a chocolate filling...

Below are pictures of the girls and their friends in all their costumed splendor. Of course I cannot claim any credit for Amelia's wings - just the skirt...and Anna's costume is a rerun from Halloween - I can claim credit for her "backfeather"/wings though...Amelia's Gan parading around the neighborhood...Amelia had trouble fitting on the sidewalk with those enormous wings!notice the music teacher on his cell phone...Amelia entertaining Anna's friends with her special Purim dance...

More pictures...and then some more...and then even more -are you surprised?

Seven

2009-03-07T00:59:00.023+02:00

Today Anna is seven.

Her birthday is March seven.

Seven girls were invited to Anna's sleepover, but two could not sleepover and yet I counted seven sleeping on the basement floor last night.

Obviously we've stumbled across a very tenacious numerological conspiracy. One so stubborn that not even a sick kid or two could squelch it...its amazing what a night of no sleep can do to an otherwise rational mind... Anna had a sleepover and three resisted the sleep part so here I am, in that netherworld of the sleep-deprived crazies of which I am far too familiar.. Nonetheless, I am overwhelmed with love and pride for my amazing, witty, unwaveringly naive, precocious, artistic, brilliant, intensely focused little truth-seeking seven yr. old. Her favorite subject is science, her favorite animals are birds, her favorite hobby is origami, and her favorite instrument is the violin. AND finally her favorite color has changed from pink to turquoise - one down...

I LOVE ANNA. and I'm not the only one...

Anna beems during her dream breakfast, after her dream birthday party ...don't let their innocent smiles fool you - --

40 years and this is all you get?

2009-02-16T22:53:00.017+02:00

The recent war, no. okay, um, the baby. NOOOOO. I WAS SICK, yeah, I was really really sick and could not get out of bed for um, two, no THREE whole weeks!?!???? Not convincing, or not a good enough excuse? Either way, I am left with no defense. I admit, I am the world's worst, most negligible daughter in the entire universe. I am lower than a Mideastern gas station hole-in-the-floor-passed-off-as-a-toilet, scummier than the street in front of our house in Port-Au-Prince after they scraped the weekly body from it; I am what writhes in the underbelly of Brussels' sewage systems, what burrows in the scabs of Isreali ferrel cats, what rides shotgun in a violent Avian-flu-like sneeze on its way to a new victim. I AM the abyss of all things that fail, that fall short, that never quite reach fruition.

Just give me another chance...don't walk away... I promise to change. I'll call three times a week. I'll post more blogs with more pictures. I'll keep all future rants to myself and poor Van. I'll make another cute grandchild for you ----woah!!! yeah, I don't love anyone enough to deliberately go down that road again. I'll get posted to a Western European country - already in the works, see how quickly I can act...

So why am I drowning in a virtual sea of self-loathing and regret? Well, I forgot to post a very deserved congratulatory message to my amazingly wonderful parents, so here goes:

CONGRATULATIONS ON 40YRS OF MARRIAGE!

Good work. Well Done. Impressive. WE LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After spending the day at the strawberry patch, we made smoothies and toasted your remarkable achievement. I am much too kind to share the comments made by Anna and Amelia when they heard just how long you've been married. I'll just say that they were quite in awe.

Happy Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T16:34:00.003+02:00

Our newest valentine...

tree birthdays and recycled right-wing politicians

2009-02-13T00:30:00.011+02:00

my comments on the recent Israeli elections: good luck obama...

G'd's comments on the recent Israeli elections: uncharacteristic torrential rains, and when that didn't stop the right wing voting tide, some violent winds and hail...

But alas, Netanyahu (again) will be tasked with forming a government though he didn't quite win, and that should be pretty difficult since he didn't quite win -- again, I say, Good luck to obama and co.
Israel's new government having troubles forming a coalition government??? - try for a resolution to the most protracted political enigma of our times - ha!

But on a lighter note, Monday was Tu Bishvat, roughly translated as the new year for the trees, or Birthday of the Trees. It is customary to plant trees and eat the fruit of trees that have reached the age of five (fruit is not to be eaten for the first three years after planting, with the fourth year for G'd, and for man each year after). In schools, children partake in a myriad of fruit crafts. Interspersed are pictures of Amelia's school Tu Bishvat fruit and vegetable contortion, um, I mean craft...

!!!AMelia is 4!!!

2009-02-07T20:21:00.015+02:00

On February 3, my amazing, charming, dramatic, beautiful, strong-willed, artistic little-but-growing Amelia turned four. So we celebrated. and celebrated again. and again. and again. Did you count, cause you better believe Anna did. How did this happen? hmmmm, well there's the obligatory "day of" gift giving-favorite thing for dinner-family togetherness celebration, and then there's the thorn-in-my-side school party that seems to become more labor-intensive and elaborate each passing year, and finally there's the "official" sugar-laced extravaganza often referred to as a child's birthday party which is quite similarly more elaborate by the year. Oh, but that's not actually the final celebration cause I'm a twit who opens her mouth far more often than is conducive to good mental health and limit-making balance. All that yoga and meditation down the toilet. It seems that two sets of very good friends had a church-conflict and feeling bad for all involved I brilliantly offered a second day-after party since two pinatas were accidentlay sent. In that stupid instant it seemed almost fated via Oriental Trading Co. that I should carry the burden of two parties, as though the heavens above were awaiting those miraculously idiotic words, Why not come over the next day and we'll do a second party, everything will already be decorated and the girls will have such fun...

I've said it before, and I will most assuredly say it again, I'm never having a big child's birthday party again at MY house. well...

that being said, again, the party(ies) turned out wonderfully - better than ever actually. I'm starting to get the hang of it now
here are pictures...

A few pages from Anna's story, "The Talking Snowman"

2009-01-30T22:25:00.010+02:00

As the morning after pill is to today's high school flousey, so is bragging about one's child to a mother...
Forgive me this unabashed display of pride, but just take a look at what my little first grader brought home today... did I yet mention that Anna is already smarter than me and that when she is not in our midst, we will surely find her hidden away in some corner surrounded by books, taking very detailed notes, or, drawing a bird in the yard with such precision your eyes look again and again until your head can absorb the discrepancy between her abilities and her age. Okay, I'm done bragging.

but I'm far from done beaming with pride...

A couple of pages are missing, and the ones displayed are a bit out of sequence, but I just wanted to show her writing abilities...

and the fighting resumes...

2009-01-29T00:45:00.011+02:00

similarly in our little world it doesn't take long for this...to turn into this...Anna very perceptively shouted in response to the scene displayed above, "You know how to tell who is the Palestinian and who is the Israeli? "No," I hesitatingly asked, "how?" "Well," she proudly continued, "whoever names the driveway after herself must be the winner - ya know, like Israel is winning so they named the country Israel..."

Hamas shamash...I'm the reigning terrorist around here.........

happy birthday steve!

2009-01-21T20:54:00.007+02:00

In honor of your birthday, the girls did a little skit/performance for you...they were dueling Uncle Steves - so it was really pretty inventive and character-driven, to say the least... Notice how they convinced me that licorice was a necessary prop - they first tried for ice cream cones, but I'm not that gullible!I'll admit, their attempt to seem tough and strong is pretty pathetic. (You might want to beef them up this summer - give them a few muscle magazines to lull over...)don't feel left out, i'm sure that they'll be more than happy to do an encore performance for you this summer... we love you and hope you have a great birthday -

!obama!

2009-01-20T21:53:00.002+02:00

amen.

channeling a mid-east MLK

2009-01-19T21:40:00.021+02:00

So there's this "cease-fire" mandated from both sides and my head is filled with the image of two adolescent bullies grunting back and forth "No, I'm calling a ceasefire!" Nevertheless, it means that Van has been home for almost a whole day -his first in nearly a month - though he's been on his phone or blackberry the ENTIRE freakin' time so I'm not sure if it really counts, fewer people will die from incoming bombs and gunfire, and humanitarian atrocities can now be perpetrated internally -remember that Hamas is a terror org with a bit of revenge torturing to catch up on. Its a mess. a very bloody one. We'll soon discover just how dire the situation really is...

But today is Martin Luther King Day.

His message is wearing heavily on my mind lately and I cannot help but wonder if out of the depths of the recent bloodbath someone will finally emerge to carry not his message, but one of similar historically moral significance. So I ask, where is the Palestinian version of Mandela, the Israeli version of Gandhi...how bad do things have to get before someone Great shines a light - or even a measly spark- of reasoned compassion, measured resistance, or -lets not be so picky- an ounce of sanity to the conflict? Someone from within. Not a freakin' American or European know-it-all who knows little. And likewise, not a fundamentalist with his head in a cloud of denial. Someone, rather, that has lived the conflict. Certainly there have been compelling personalities throughout that have captured an ear or two, but there has not been that charismatic person of peace upon whose feet all melt in devotion and admiration...

today reminds me that we can still dream, and hope.

oh yeah, these pictures have nothing to do with the text, but are you really going to argue - I mean she's so darn cute...

anna's version of a "ceasefire" : enough pictures mom!

hopes for the new year...by way of a 6yr old mind...

2009-01-12T14:38:00.004+02:00

I opened up Anna's "Friday Folder" the other night and discovered this...not Anna's finest work, but funny nonetheless...Amelia has been having accidents lately- just a few, but Anna has been very concerned, G'd bless her.
notice the detail in the picture - she proudly pointed out that the yellow represented uh-um pee and the brown, well you can imagine...

I'm on neither side, but I live on one...

2009-01-06T22:26:00.042+02:00

I've attempted to hurriedly slop together a post in the past week if only to put a mind or two at ease about our situation...but of course, kids have been sick and needy and home from school/preschool, Van has been working pretty much nonstop since the warring began, and I have been exhausted by it all... physically and psychologically.

We are fine and safe for now.

I really feel uneasy posting anything substantive. I have to walk the line and watch my mouth - I both know too much and feel too much. What I will say is that war, as always, is ugly. It hurts and affects so much more than intended. AND NOTHING IS AS SIMPLE OR BLACK AND WHITE as people claim. I have the unfortunate position of living on one side, bearing the guilt; feeling complicit in its actions as I share in its particular horrors. Its impossible to live with a people and not feel their pains, fears, and desires on some level. I remain, however, an outsider. I am well aware of what is happening on both sides. Too aware, perhaps.

Today I met a woman and her family at the park. She had two children, a two yr. old girl and a four yr old boy. She was trying to carry on a casual conversation with me but could not. I asked her if she was alright and she began to cry. She and her family are from Ashdod. They are too scared to go back and unsure of when they will return. I felt her fear. It was clear that she needed to unload a little of her anxiety onto someone obviously not submerged in it. Throughout the course of our conversation, she expressed frustration, anger, but above all, fear. Until then, I had been operating in a sort of twilight zone of denial; everyone around me moving through the day as though it were any other, consumed by the trivialities of daily life, unaware or unwilling to speak of the atrocities exploding around them. Now I could feel it. She made it real. I wanted to thank her, but realized how selfish it would seem...

As she left with her husband and two beautiful children I couldn't help but wonder where they were going. And that's when I realized that they were going. This is one of many differences. They have the freedom to flee. Mothers on the other side of the border have no where to run..

In the spirit of wars...and the end of days...

2008-12-27T22:45:00.028+02:00

If you haven't heard, things are starting to heat up again around here. In keeping with the mood, or perhaps fearing that our days exploring at will are numbered, we decided to spend a day at Megiddo - aka Armageddon. If you've ever wondered what it looks like, you'll enjoy this little glimpse - its a little different than I'd always imagined, the cute girls certainly help to shatter preconceptions...

King Solomon built these stairs...

it almost looks rather peaceful, huh?
Amelia channelling her inner warrior...

now Van's phone is ringing...guess I'll see him after the next intifada...

hours later on the Northern Gaza border - tanks, tanks, tanks.

hark! do I hear jets in the heavens above???

resurrected christmas spirits...

2008-12-25T11:07:00.017+02:00

My trip to Bethlehem botched; my trip to Nazareth foiled; a Christmas tree that almost wasn't - twice; Santa gifts lost in transit; and a myriad of other life-altering dramas made for a pretty bad week. It was beginning to feel like Christmas was fleeing the scene of a crime. But alas a bird of hope swooped through those darn gray clouds lurking overhead (the ghost of Christmas future?). Its odd that the simplicity of nature always reminds me of God's amazing complexity. And its that simplicity that holds us together. Though it usually doesn't poop on you...

A pale yellow cockatoo sweetly chirping in the background really does ignite a little peace in one's soul.

cookies

2008-12-24T14:34:00.012+02:00

one day. two cookie parties. two giddy girls. two tummy aches. too many pictures.
merry christmas
and they're off...

crafts and cookie preparation - serious stuff for Anna...
Amelia wondering why she's supposed to give cookies away...

Cookie Party #2 : Anna helping Amelia with her gingerbread decorating

Amelia, Amelia, Amelia and Santa

2008-12-19T22:06:00.018+02:00

For whatever reason, AFN (Armed Forces Network - our version of american cable - just two or three seasons behind) decided to celebrate Thanksgiving by airing a 24hr Brady Bunch marathon. The one episode that Amelia and I actually sat through in its entirety was the one where Cindy faced the impossible dilemma of choosing only one parent to attend her holiday performance at school. I later even commented to Van about the injustice of it all; likening it the unbearable choice many children are faced in custody battles (yeah, he rolled his eyes just like you). That would never happen in real life, right? Wrong. Just days before Amelia's holiday performance, her teacher informed us that there would only be enough space to accommodate one parent per child. And Anna's performance was not to be viewed by ANY parents. Huh? Yep, Anna's performance was for fellow elementary students - no lurking parents allowed. Well, at least we knew how to handle that one - don't go. But how do we choose which parent for Amelia? Do we burden her little mind and ask her to decide? Do we try to alleviate her inevitable torment by lying? I just couldn't bear to see her suffer as Cindy did, trying to weigh everyone's feelings against her own, trying to do what would be in the best interest of her family, trying not to be selfish... Yes, we needed to find a creative solution, the weight of which would not be placed upon the shoulders of a three-and-a-half yr. old. So, I thought back to the episode in question, and tried to glean as much wisdom as one could from a 70's T.V. sitcom. But honestly, there isn't a whole lot of wisdom to be shared... despite significant similarities to the T.V. episode, Amelia's preschool did not -as Cindy's did- offer to have a separate performance for our entire family, and Amelia did not -as Cindy did - show any signs of inner turmoil. Amelia very clearly told dad to hit the road - she wanted mom to go.

Ah well - you'll never hear me complain about a lack of drama...

Here are pictures from Amelia's holiday party and performance at preschool. But not Anna's...
psychedelic reindeer??

Santa...gingerbread houses made out of matza crackers - hmmm yum, at least it was an Israeli who came up with this idea - not me....

Two jilted angels...

2008-12-13T19:41:00.019+02:00

This morning started off all wrong. Some overslept (Van), some didn't sleep nearly enough (me), and some should have seen it all coming and crawled back under the covers(Anna and Amelia).

Van and I are notorious for two things - being late and socially negligible. Everyone expects that we will be extremely late, that we will not have the courtesy to call forewarning our inevitable bad behavior, and that we will explode on to the scene with loud children who may or may not be properly clothed for the occasion, or even the weather. They know too that we will overstay our welcome and leave with even greater drama than our arrival (Anna). Being in Israel for over two years now has only exacerbated these tendencies. You see, Israelis, as much as I love them, are even worse than us. And now we have a third baby who is breast-feeding on demand and has the nerve to poop whenever she wants - like while I'm rushing out the door to pick up one of her sisters...so our little "late-to-our-own-funerals" flaw has kind of gained a life of its own. That being said, its been a great source of pride for Van and I that Anna has only ever missed her bus one time since starting elementary school. Amelia, on the other hand, is late practically every day - but its an Israeli Gan (preschool) - they don't even have an official start time, just a suggested hour during which to arrive...

Now you must be asking yourself why I'm sharing our collective character flaws ...well, for the first time, our tardiness actually messed up something very special to our girls. We screwed up pretty bad. It is at this point in my story that I must ask all of those with two or less children to stop reading. No, really, stop reading - you are in no way capable of processing what I'm about to admit. You will undoubtedly gasp in horror. You may in fact find that your jaw is bruised from its speedy decent to the floor. In the words of AMelia any time you tell her you can't play dolls with her,"So gooooo, already" as she motions you away in disgust

Van and I, we, both of us, me and him, we, um, uh, were late getting the girls to their Christmas Play at church. Yikes! That reads as badly as it sounds. Yep. we officially suck. The girls will forever remember this. Yet another subject for future therapy. (I'm working to make some future therapist quite rich it seems...)

In our defense, we were only ten minutes late and they started earlier than was discussed. As well it should be noted that the girls arrived in enough time to still participate. But I'm not going to lie, they missed the beginning. Poor girls. It broke my heart - and its our fault -YUCK! And the fact that they were dressed as sweet angels....uuuuugggghhhhh!

blogger blasphemy...

2008-12-08T14:45:00.034+02:00

If you haven't noticed, this is rather a sad excuse for a blog.

I never even intended to do anything more than side-step the greeting card process and relieve a little guilt about taking the grandkids overseas for a year or ten. So the remorse I feel is very slight.

Okay, so I'm not a real blogger. I admit it (I'm a wannabe). Unlike all of those REAL bloggers to which I'm referring, I'm not going to bore you with mundane aspects of my life like what I ate for breakfast (Cheerios, glass of OJ, and cup of coffee - black), or with what kind of laundry detergent I think everyone should use (ECOS cause its Eco-responsible). I refuse to spew my political beliefs upon each and every person who lands on my site (I already did that). I won't overshare every "cute" conversation between my 3yr old and my 6 yr old (they all end with either "that's not fair" or "then I'm not your friend" - not so cute). I'm much too confident in myself to clutter my site with the ego-pumping contraband that so often plagues these blog sites: a hit counter to count the virtual traffic one's site attracts (I'm too insecure to face the fact that mine would be close to 000003), a blog roll to guide others to follow the blogs I find interesting (I don't want you to leave me for a better blog), fake awards that my fellow bloggers create and give away at the drop of a hat (nobody has ever offered one), and a profile filled with cute quirky likes and dislikes (I'm afraid you will laugh and I really don't want you to leave me). No, I am sooooo much better than all that! Please. (Please don't leave....)

So to any of you out there hoping for a quick blog fix you've landed on the wrong site. Just shield your eyes and slowly press the BACK button - okay so leave a small space in between your index finger and your remaining fingers so that you can properly find your BACK button, unless of course you really are that good - cause this month is going to be a marathon of pure unadulterated bloggy blasphemy. Every post will be about Hanukkah and Christmas parties, holiday performances, and related family outings. Almost nothing but pictures (imagine that). Perhaps even some modest marveling (outright bragging) about my docile, even-tempered angels (yes, I AM referring to MY children). Not one post will have any substance beyond that. Okay, so I might slip in a rant or two, but certainly not every week (cause well, I'm actually too lazy to type). So leave, leave now and forever hold your peace (please stay, stay a while and would someone find enough pity in their heart to leave a comment or two?)

That being said, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MICKEY! WE MISS YOU - you are an amazing woman and friend! (below is a shot of the girls performing a happy birthday parade for you...)

Am I really just a technological step above a scrapbooker like Van says??????????

not just an excuse to eat cake...

2008-12-06T13:32:00.010+02:00

Happy Birthday Mom!

We LOVE you...

We MISS you...

We decided to have a party in your absence...or rather, more appropriately, our absence...

Without any prodding from me, the girls decided your birthday was much too important to be left uncelebrated by them so they baked and decorated a cake, begged for balloons, and sang happy birthday...to you...we all know their efforts were anything but self serving and certainly not an excuse to eat cake ( wink wink)

Take what you can 'cause soon they will be teenage ingrates who whine and bemoan everything - wait, how is that any different than now? oh yeah, they still haven't mastered the art of angst. Remember that lovely phase?

sorry...

does this make up for any of it?

how we spent Black Friday...

2008-11-29T00:01:00.012+02:00

For Black Friday, we boycotted consumerism and headed to the Judean Desert. We hiked Masada, meandered along the Dead Sea, and explored a wadi or two. Do you want to puke yet? Okay, so we did in fact do all of the above, but instantly upon returning home I jumped on the Internet and spent the better part of Van's blessed paycheck. I am a socialist in my heart, but a capitalist in my greed-stricken veins. No indoctrination could ever change that, I'm certain...One of the lovely things about living in the holyland is that you can almost always trump everyone in terms of spiritual excursions. Even if its just a walk down the road. Van tried to use this on me for our tenth anniversary: If you ask, Van will tell you of our romantic stroll and picnic on a secluded beach along the northern coast of Tel Aviv, overlooked by Roman ruins - whereupon we searched for and found ancient Roman glass. Sounds pretty good huh? Well, the reality is that he took me down to the beach for a picnic - a few measly blocks from our house. Hell, I love him for his literary impact anyway...

Anna negotiating the terms of her compliance for more photo taking...

the girls exploring, pretending to be paleontologists...AMelia trying to up Anna's anty for what I call "picture bribery"

You can see the Dead Sea in the far background and the Judean Mountains a little bit nearer background...

pretty good pictures considering I was holding Matilda the whole time, huh? Van did relieve me of the camera, for one picture anyway...

What do you do with a thirty-five pound turkey and a European sized oven???

2008-11-27T16:06:00.016+02:00

-thank G'd that you are not expecting guests!

-wonder what kind of hormones the kibbutz shot it up with? I'll do a post on the inevitable decline of the utopian ideal, so sad...

-refrain from questioning its kosherness

-start placing bets re: amount of thaw time it needs - my guess was three days...

-do nothing, and wait for the IDF to borrow it as a weapon of mass destruction...

-donate it to a charity or two, or three...

-throw it out, and hope that not too many ferrel cats die from subsequent food-bourne diseases...

-Or, let it thaw for a couple of days, cut it up, and have your husband cook Thanksgiving dinner for the family...yep! Van is busy cooking our turkey pieces, the girls are putting together a Thanksgiving play for us, and I am trying to entertain Matilda. This is our first year celebrating Thanksgiving alone, and though I miss everyone terribly, its nice to be able to feast in my robe!!! Can we say lazy? Nope cause I was up all night comforting a very sick kid (Amelia) and satiating the insatiable one (Matilda) and I already cleaned, made homemade pies and did 20+ turkey arts and crafts by noon!

WE ARE SO BLESSED and THANKFUL for our families!!!! WE actually are VERY happy and grateful beyond words for the life we have ... despite my last posting! ( I was just trying to balance it out, 'cause things did look a little too good)... ALL our love to you...

I better go cause Anna just told me that I need to practice my part as a turkey...hmm..I thought that was Amelia's part earlier >

Disclaimer

2008-11-22T21:45:00.026+02:00

It has been brought to my attention that this blog gives viewers the impression that we are happy. Please!

I'll concede that our experiences overseas have altered our perceptions and added to our personal growth - yadda yada yaddaaa, but, really, we haven't changed that much! We are still quite complicated, tripped up by the trivial, and ridden with poor judgement.

Let's be brutally honest here, this blogsite only reveals what I want to put out there. Our lives are something completely different from what you see here.

Think about it, we just had a third child in a country of perpetual turmoil and wars. I know jet patterns well enough that when one flies off course, as happened last Thursday night, I am propelled into a tizzy of repentant prayer. I know where bomb shelters are and how to quickly access my children so I can speedily shove their little tushies into ours. I have a bag packed at all times. We have no family here and our likely expat friends live a similarly wayward life; their come and go rarely timed with ours. So when something goes wrong or an emergency arises, we have no guarantees for support. And Van, a cog in the government machinery, is worked liked a dog (and then worked some more...and then worked even more). Our lovely children, though "planned", are all spaced almost exactly three years apart - one year each past the point of shared play (thus my role as everyones fail-safe playmate). And at this point, we seem to always be dealing with someone's adjustment issues. (More often than not, its Van's adjustment issues....When is he ever going to realize that the children are, in fact, here to stay?)

Did I mention that we just had a THIRD child...

So there, I admit it, despite what you may see or imagine we are, quite simply, miserable.

and sometimes happy.

okay mainly miserable interspersed with lightning fast jolts of happiness. I just always find a camera around during one of these random jolts. Next time Van and I come to blows (tomorrow morning when he rushes PAST the overflowing trashcan, OVER one of the children's messes, UNDER the burned out kitchen light toward the door to escape - um, I mean work- without batting an eye), I'll be sure to snap a picture for ya'll

Its all about the toys after all...

2008-11-17T23:28:00.026+02:00

In a meager attempt to help the family feel included in our holiday season, I've decided to post Anna and Amelia's letters to Santa. Anna very thoughtfully helped Amelia with the writing, patiently prompting her to stick to the subject. Despite Anna's best efforts though, Amelia essentially just listed what she saw on the floor in front of her, periodically qualifying each item with the word "toy" - perhaps to add authenticity, though more likely to convince Anna she was still on task! ( okay so there wasn't a tomato on the floor or a bike in the house, Anna just insisted I clarify...geeesh!the policing efforts of a six year old...)

If you are a potential gift-giver for the girls let me help you out with a little more info:
1. Do not send Anna anything that has or refers to princesses, fairies, or dolls. However, do send Amelia anything that has or refers to princesses, fairies, or dolls.

2. Do not send Anna any "beginner reader" books -she is sooooo over them, she reads 3rd grade level (and higher) "chapter books" preferably of the science and nature genre. However, do send Amelia "beginner reader" books - the fewer the words the better...

3. Do send Anna anything bird or origami-related; her two newest obsessions. However, do not send Amelia anything bird or origami- related; her two newest competitions for sisterly attention.

Amelia colors her list while wearing her fancy peacock hat...

(MY wish list for Santa goes like this: 1. no Iranian nukes 2. no wars with Iran 3. no suicide bombers in areas I frequent....)

letting it all hang out...for one day...

2008-11-04T19:35:00.046+02:00

Due to the delicate, family friendly nature of this site- okay so one could say that its used primarily as a cheap shortcut to sending out greeting cards - I have worked tirelessly to maintain a distance from my more ranty side. I've accomplished this by keeping pretty much all opinions regarding politics, private family affairs, and well, everything else that isn't related to a pretty picture of my girls off this site. As such, the only real message expressed herein has been that of a very proud and sometimes shocked mother of two, um, I mean three, whilst living in a foreign land. No more. Gone is the facade of a nonpartisan twit, banished is the strangely inflated ego of an amateur - I mean VERY- amateur sewer, squashed is the myth of my acceptance of the status quo. Now, please meet the farther-left-than-you-ever-imagined-girl constrained in part by her marriage to a man who is married to the MAN. Apologies all to whom I am about to offend and to those of which I will undoubtedly alienate, but I feel compelled to break free for just an instance and utter a small phrase in response to what is one of my proudest days as an American, "Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(An afterthought...

You should know that the rest of the world is left watching, waiting, and wanting. I've been told by nearly everyone, from a Filipino nanny to an Italian diplomat at the EU to an Israeli guard at the corner store, that they feel entitled to a vote. (Cringe) As much as this pisses me off, I do get it. I am very much aware - now that we've spent the better part of seven years abroad- that the outcome of our elections impact their lives, not only in the grand scheme of the world, but also very much on a personal day to day level. At least this election won't find me answering each phone call with fear and trepidation, searching desperately for the proper "diplomatic" response to "what's wrong with your country? are they all Bible-thumping, gun-toting, cousin-loving, mountain hillbillies?" This, mind you, is almost a direct quote. No, rather this time I'll just have to explain to the very large Israeli security guard, while my eyes cautiously catch a glimpse of his gun, why Americans want Iran to have nukes...yep, this is McCain Country here...

...CNN was kicked off the cable network seven months ago...)

bluish green with envy

2008-10-31T00:01:00.048+02:00

halloween... About a week and a half ago, Amelia's costume arrived. It didn't fit. It seems an adult small was packaged as a child's small. Amelia was not happy. Anna's costume arrived a few days later. It fit perfectly. Again, Amelia was not happy. In fact, she spiraled into a fit so severe that for a moment I thought Anna's reign as tantrum queen was in jeopardy. So I essentially shot myself in the foot ( and the knees, and the hands, and the arms for that matter --- though I guess I should have instead aimed for my faulty head) How did I manage so much imagined self-mutilation and bloodshed you ask? Sadly, I confess, I committed one of the cardinal sins of parenting: in a meager attempt to diffuse the situation, I promised something that I could not deliver - to make Amelia a costume just like Anna's so the sisters could be proud as peacocks that their mom is a downright fool. Not only that, I promised Anna that I would also find a way to create "back feathers" since her costume only had the skirt and she wanted to have something made especially for her as well. Seems jealousy is contagious. Why I open my mouth after 6pm, I don't know. BUT somehow despite a one-armed husband, a teething Matilda, and a bad case of VERTIGo I managed to pull it off. Amelia's costume was handmade from 4inches above her head to 4inches below her knees...I'm particularly proud of the headpiece...and Anna's backfeathers... So we all happily went trick or treating just like in the states --- thanks to a very organized PTA at Anna's school. (Since embassy housing kind of clusters in one neighborhood, we were able to coordinate a few blocks of houses to participate, and the kids went from house to house for candy. The only major difference, however, was that it had to be scheduled on the 30th rather than the 31st since this year Halloween falls on shabbat. Even if we sometimes fail on the individual level, we can on occasion muster up enough collective cultural sensitivity so as not to offend...) (Forgive my seeming inability to edit. I can never choose one simple photo, and since you are probably either my mom or Van's mom reading this, I figure you prefer that I err on the side of too many photos...)
(Note to all moms of children who Google: make sure that your child neither misspells nor mistypes the word peacock....just a small piece of wisdom to pass along)

The girls at various school festivities...

Check out the backfeathers ...Matilda last night...

London Calling

2008-10-22T15:32:00.023+02:00

First there's a glance, then a wink and a nod, and after many flirtatious exchanges there's the handshake. Its not official in the traditional bureaucratic sense - a landfill or two worth of paperwork and never ending layers of approval, but it is in its own right official. So there you have it, our next destination is London. I know, its probably the least exotic posting one could get save for Canada or DC, but its a great job and its what we need right now. (I was secretly holding out for Sri Lanka, but in all honesty, we have too many pressing medical needs and this job will do Van very well career-wise - yep, we do sometimes have to consider this.)

The whole bidding process, however, leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. It benefits few, it alienates even more, and for some it even hurts. Each time, Van has to essentially interview for a "new" job. Here's how it works (or doesn't work depending on who you ask): The process begins in August when a list of soon to be open positions is released by the mothership aka State Department headquarters. This, as you can imagine, is the fun part. You get to fantasize about life in nearly every corner of the earth. Then reality rears its ugly head and you start narrowing down options based upon familial concerns - schooling for the kiddies, availability of adequate medical care, housing- and career concerns. I'm oversimplifying, but you get the jist. By October each officer must submit a bid list in order of preference. This is where it gets downright ugly. You see, no one is really privy to the rules of the game, if any really exist. Iraq has complicated this even further, since onward assignments are often promised as an incentive for time served. But even that isn't a guarantee. So the schmoozing starts, resumes are circulated, and butt-kissing techniques become fine-tuned. Amidst this craziness, each bureau begins offering what are called "handshakes" to their favorites for more coveted positions. If a handshake is not offered, then you must wait until January to find out where you've been slotted. We've been very lucky. But I say this knowing that luck can run out at any moment in this crazy career/life/whatever you call it...

Nevertheless, this is kind of a coup for Van. I'm bowing to your awesomeness as I write sweetie - CONGRATULATIONS! (Van doesn't even read this blog, so can one of the two of you that read this tell Van????)

Happy Torah!

2008-10-21T20:36:00.010+02:00

Today is Simhat Torah, which translates as "Rejoicing (of) the Torah". This holiday signifies the completion of the Torah reading cycle with the final chapter in Deuteronomy and reintroduction with Genesis. This is the only day in which the Torah scrolls are taken out and paraded amidst dancing and singing crowds. In Jerusalem, the celebrations can be quite exuberant and intense. However, out here in secularville, aka Tel Aviv, the celebrations are pretty low-key and I'm assuming pretty confined to the synagogues or people's homes. This is really a guess since I haven't seen or heard anything outside today...

We just lounged at home, ate in and around our "succa" , and went to the pool...

(Yes, Anna did ask, "When are the Christians going to celebrate the Bible and do we get cake?"

Amelia's response, "No fair, why does Anna get cake?")

Hag Sameach! Its Succot!

2008-10-16T22:15:00.029+02:00

This week is Succot, my SECOND favorite Israeli holiday. In stark contrast to the solemnity of Yom Kippur which precedes it, Succot is a downright festive holiday. It is customary to build a succa, or temporary dwelling, to commemorate the period of wandering (the whole 40yrs in the desert stint). Though succas tend to vary in size and sophistication, most are moderate in size ( generally large enough for one to sleep and or eat in as intended by the custom) and simple in structure. In order to honor the mitzvah, it is required that succas consist of two walls covered with material strong enough to withstand the elements. The roof, or seccac (not sure how its spelled), must be made from something that grew from the earth and subsequently cut off, but also must remain sparse enough to allow for a glimpse or two of the night sky (so as to truly honor the memory of their ancestors' plight). People generally decorate their succas with seasonal vegetables, flowers, and sometimes hand-made crafts from their children with an overall effect that is often hippyish and earthy.

Here are pictures for the mommas...notice how we, once again, managed to muddle up anothers' customs with our own. Sooner or later our borderline offensiveness is gonna get us kicked out of some country, diplomatic immunity be damned... (This picture below is a rather gratuitous plug for more of my handiwork...I made both skirts. Yes, I know, I'm relentless.)This year we couldn't build a succa due to Van's shoulder injury ( --- he just recently had surgery on his shoulder due to a very nasty brake. A metal plate had to be implanted so that all of our flights home can be all the more eventful!) However, we spruced up what remained from last year and decorated our playset... Anna calls it our "succa play world"...

hatina tova...(happy signing...)

2008-10-09T22:10:00.010+02:00

Today is Yom Kippur, my favorite Israeli holiday. Everything closes. Cars are forbidden. Noises are minimal. The religious spend the day fasting and atoning for their sins of the past year and making a last appeal before judgement is sealed. They emerge dressed in white, symbolizing purity - of course, and solemnly walk toward the synagogue as sunset approaches. The rest of us, well at least all the gentiles and slakers, spend the day in those blessed car-free streets. Nothing beats walking or cycling freely down a highway. However, momhood gets in the way and I have to fight back every urge to scream at the girls for, well, being in the streets!
Though we enjoyed it immensely, we were all very sad to think we won't be celebrating it here again next year.

My vantage point: focusing in on my view...
poor Van's view... couldn't resist taking a shot of the stroller in the middle of the highway...don't freak mom, its completely safe...

Today is good.

Shanah Tovah!

2008-09-30T22:39:00.013+03:00

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, marks the beginning of Israel's holiday season. This coming month is a marathon of holidays often referred to as the "high holidays" due to their religious and cultural importance. As Amelia said this morning, "let the holidays roll, baby." She wasn't so pleased when we told her that these holidays do not include numerous gifts or bags of candies...

they were the best of times, they were the worst of times...this afternoon the girls and I played in the park and cast off our sins (emptied our pockets in water) by way of a fountain - I'm quite certain that doesn't "float" in the world of kosherness - before returning home for some apples in honey to symbolize the wish for a sweet New Year.

(personal plug: I made both girls tops) I'm sure boasting is not a proper way to start my humble introspection. oooey vey!

measurize me...

2008-09-26T21:17:00.011+03:00

Late last Tuesday night as I sat with Amelia in bed, she said in a very reassuring and motherly voice, "Its okay now, mom, I decided to grow."
This is a very loaded statement.
Earlier that morning, Van and I ( "I " from here on out should be an understood stand-in term meant to include both Lindsay and Matilda) took a very hungry, very tired Amelia to Schnieder's Children's Hospital. We were geared up for what would be an exhaustive day of periodic IVs and numerous examinations. I was darn near excitement over what was meant to be the final installment of our 6-month long marathon of tests. Finally, we could get a proper read of her hormone levels, fill her first prescription, and be on our way to a year of growth and a lifetime of annoying shots. But, this was not our fate. "I cannot in good conscience put her through today's tests," the head of pediatric endocrinology said with a slight grin, "I'm sorry, but, according to today's measurements, she grew nearly 3 cm." This growth occurred in less than two months. Wait a second. Until that moment the tests had been leading me to believe we might be looking at a brain tumor. "No chance of a tumor now, no need for an MRI"
Okay. Last week I could not even sit through an entire biographical program on Tom Thumb (please bear with our limited TV viewing options while overseas), I mean I've already put a ban on all future viewing of The Wizard of Oz and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And don't even mention reruns of Webster or Different Strokes in my presence; they bother me on a whole new level now.
HMMMMMmmmm...
Amelia grew too much in too short a time for there to be a growth hormone deficiency. Okay.
So what caused Amelia to cease growing for nearly a year?
All tests have shown a perfectly healthy child. The doctors, for now, seem to be content with this stating simply that whatever has been amiss has resolved itself. Can anything this serious be so simple? People have been feeding me this anecdotal crap for months. Do I finally swallow it and feign a smile?
Truth be told, if there is a child who could force nature one way or another out of spite or stubbornness, Amelia would be that child.
My suspicions are that it is quite complex and not free of Amelia's super-mind powers. Am I happy, yes. Am I confused, hell yes.
So here we are left floating in the black hole of medical unknowingness -

All I know is that I LOVE AMELIA and that through force of will or just simply nature, she finally grew.

proselytizing at the bell caves

2008-09-13T21:16:00.007+03:00

even ancient man-made sewage systems in Israel overflow with holiness and grandeur...

amelia speaks in tongues as she basks in the light filtering from above... a view from inside the cave...the girls exploring from all angles...

Matilda update

2008-09-01T21:50:00.008+03:00

she's definitely one of ours...

Though the picture below is a rather distorted view (Matilda doesn't usually look so, well, strange), it does reveal how closely she resembles her sisters...

building bridges

2008-08-28T17:10:00.008+03:00

the girls help dad add-on a bridge to their new playset... imagine what he could do if we actually laid down some roots... and if I let him spend all our money on tools...and gave him more spare time on the weekends...
of course, I'm apparently more excited by this than the kids. they're inside 'cause its "too hot and there are too many flying bugs"
did i mention it takes bribes to get them to go to the beach? i'm so jealous of them...

Anna loves Ori

2008-08-07T17:33:00.004+03:00

This time its not our fault.
We are actually staying here for a while.
We thought we were free of the requisite year end goodbyes we've come so accustomed to, I mean, Anna's best friend this year is an Israeli - not a transient expat like everyone else in our social circle. so why are WE saying goodbye?
Because, the Livneh's just had to move to New York. Anna lost her first love, and I lost a great friend/mentor. So much for mingling with the locals.
We miss you guys and still plan on someday being inlaws...as long as Ori doesn't move to London!

How to diffuse a bomb in Herzilya

2008-08-02T00:13:00.005+03:00

Today is hot. I am tried. The baby is about to lose it, and I have two girls - who are hot and tired - to pick up from summer camp. Matilda starts to scream, so I release her from the torture chair otherwise known as her car seat and carry her toward Amelia's pick-up area. Mistake. As I approach Amelia her happy "mommie is here!" face quickly changes and she yells - no - screams, "YUCKY MOMMY! NO! NO! YUCKY MOMMY!" Instantly every mom within a 5mile radius quietly and discreetly tunes in to the unravelling drama. Their movements slow, their voices become quiet, and their eyes slightly turn in my direction. My entire reputation as a calm and cool mom is on the line. The next few seconds could destroy the motherhood myth that I have worked tirelessly to create over the past two years. I silently pray to myself, "please calm down! PLEASE CALM DOWN! DON'T do this right now. PLEASE calm down!" Amelia is now the most powerful person in the school. So much is riding on her response to my response. I don't even have enough energy and patience to figure out what kind of response to give. So I just bend down, softly touch her arm and sternly but very calmly tell her not to ever talk to me that way and that it is time to pick up Anna. I breathe. I pray. Only I know just how ugly this could get, and I'd very much like to keep it that way. The moms study me, not quite sure if they would rather me fail or succeed. If I fail, they can feel good, at least for the rest of the day, about their own parenting. However, if I succeed, they can then use my "methodology" in future difficult parenting situations. This is too much pressure. I am starting to feel a panic attack come on when Amelia, with her enormous blue eyes and arms outstretched, softly says "I'm sorry." Unfortunately she said it so softly that, really no one heard. So being very full of myself I loudly respond "Aww. Thank you for apologizing." I learned the hard way that Amelia needs for me to pick her up with free hands, not arms full of her new attention-stealing sister. Lesson learned. Reputation intact. Now we have to get the moody one...
Its only a matter of time before they find me out.

an excuse to post pictures of bugs.

2008-07-26T22:59:00.009+03:00

Anna has been hinting that her love affair with dinosaurs may be waning, so we're on the hunt for her new obsession. We've spent alot of the summer exploring, both indoors and out.
In the midst of one of our explorations, Anna asked me to judge each post by its bugs: how deadly, how interesting, how beautiful. Oddly, only then did I realize just how my response related to my personal experience in each country - Haiti was ripe with disease-transmitting bugs and spiders the size of small children, Brussels was crawling with non-poisonous but annoying spiders, and Tel Aviv, well, here are a few pictures...

Three

2008-07-22T17:22:00.005+03:00

...I have three excuses for my lack of postings: Anna, Amelia, and Matilda. Add "summer break", a housekeeper/part-time babysitter MIA (missing in America), a tragically overworked husband, a few too-many children and you have my crazed summer.

I'll hopefully find some time for new pictures this weekend...

Or maybe not, Van just mentioned he'll be out of town this weekend...

This is what fate looks like...at 9 weeks...

2008-06-25T22:38:00.003+03:00

Matilda.

hotdogs and peace-talking with Olmert...

2008-06-25T14:14:00.006+03:00

...nothing says peace like a BBQ in Tel Aviv

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN

2008-06-16T21:11:00.003+03:00

We love you and hope that you have a wonderful birthday! I can't begin to tell you just how grateful we are to have you in our lives. You truly are a blessing...

happy birthday!

DADS,dads,dads,dads...

2008-06-15T21:01:00.021+03:00

This is my gift to all of the dads in our lives.....

..... is anyone falling for this?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Happy Father's Day Dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We love and miss you VERY much! Thank you for your patience and constant love all these years. I haven't always been the easiest person to love, and certainly quite difficult to even like, but you've always made it clear that you love me regardless. And now you are such a wonderful grandfather to my girls - this is the best gift a mother could ask for... THanks!

I promise that there will come a day that we can actually celebrate Father's Day together!
Have a great day with the rest of the Campbell clan...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Happy Father's Day Van!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What can I say, you are AMAZING! You bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan. Then you listen to my relentless rants, referee infighting between the sisters, broker a cease-fire between us all and then fall into bed. We NEED you. We love you. We want you to stay...........

Amelia and Anna pretended to be dad tonite....so there were a lot of pretend naps being taken...

!!!!!!!!!Happy Birthday Dad!!!!!!!!!

2008-06-12T21:29:00.004+03:00

Okay, so this is a day late, but I seriously only just realized that its June - I'm drowning in children and haven't peaked my head out of this postpartum haze - yet.
Anyway, Happy Birthday Dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WE LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I REALLY WISH THAT WE COULD BE WITH YOU TO CELEBRATE. The girls especially wish they could "share cake with you and blow out ALL of your candles" - which Anna "guestimates" to be about seventy, sorry for that! Thank you for being an amazing grandfather! You rock!

Happy Mother's Day!!!!!!!

2008-05-10T22:53:00.014+03:00

Mom!
I'm sitting here with your newest grandchild in one arm, listening to your oldest grandchild complain that there isn't a "child's day" during which she is celebrated, worrying about your second grandchild's high fever and I can't help but wonder how you pulled it all off. I am of course referring to your job as a mother. I've said this before and I'll say it again, my admiration for you grows by the day. Thank you for everything, but mainly for not throwing me out the window - which I'm increasingly aware that I deserved on more than one occasion! I love you!!!!!!!!!!

Susan!

Thank you for doing whatever you did to create such a wonderful son. Mat is amaz --- NOOOO ---just kidding! VAN is a remarkable husband and an amazing parent and I know that you have more than a little to do with that! Thank you also for being the perfect mother-in-law! We are all so blessed to have you in our lives - We love you!

And yes, Van, Happy Mother's Day to you. You deserve the recognition - just as you claim - for being the "mother" for the past few weeks while I've been leisurely resting away the hours upstairs in the bedroom. Nevermind that you get a full night's sleep - something that I've been without, gee, for six years now. Oh, and nevermind the whole pregnancy, birth, labor, recovery, breastfeeding, diaper-changing thing. Don't cloud your little head with all that silly stuff!
Just kidding - you really do deserve a parade 'cause you are doing a bang-up job! Seriously, I'm beyond impressed. And so are the girls! Thanks sweetie!!!!!

(Sorry for the old photo, it just seemed to fit the above paragraph best!)

Happy Spring...

2008-04-14T23:10:00.005+03:00

Just wanted to post a few recent pictures of the girls before our newest one makes her grand appearance!

Anna with her very proud dad and sister after her first official school play/musical - she was a lobster!
Amelia doing her one-woman show...

Amelia pretending to be a spring flower.

Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T10:38:00.003+02:00

Dinosaur Eggs and 25 Paleontologists...

2008-03-21T23:50:00.006+02:00

The theme for Anna's birthday this year was dinosaurs. This child is obsessed with anything related to dinosaurs and science so we thought it would be fun to give her a birthday party with a dinosaur egg expedition. About a month ahead of the party, Van and the girls - okay, mainly Van- began building a "dinosaur world" out of chicken wire, cardboard boxes, and paper-mache. (Van is quite pleased to see the passing of the pink-princess phase, and is willing to go to great lengths to encourage any alternative interests!) The girls and I added the finishing touches - paint, etc. - so that it would be finished in plenty of time for the party. The next big project, making 30 paper-mache dinosaur eggs and, well, everything else, fell solely on me - as Van was unexpectedly called to work in Jerusalem the week before. So there I was, 8 months pregnant, holding down the fort - with one very sick Amelia and an even sicker cat who sadly didn't make it to see the party - blowing up, paper-mache-ing, and painting 30 balloons every night for a week. If you haven't seen me at the end of my previous pregnancies, you will have to take my word when I say I was one CRAZED and STRESSED woman. Nevertheless, Van arrived just in time to say farewell to sweet Farabunga (she had an amazing last day basking in the sun and rolling in the grass) and to pull it all together in order to help with the party. Each child was given a pith hat and binoculars and sent out on a dinosaur egg expedition. We also had a dinosaur pinata, a pin the horn on the triceratops game, and other small activities for the kids to busy themselves with... Anna wanted to somehow incorporate rainbow colors into the party decor - so we came up with quite an unusual mix that somehow worked to the delight of both boys and girls!

Anna was given the privilege of baking and decorating her own birthday cake. I bought and decorated the one below as a safety net, but her cake turned out so well, we didn't even need the other one...

We all learned that despite much effort and desire, I am NOT one of those moms you see featured in family magazines. I can certainly make things as pretty as the glossy magazine parties, but I cannot manage the chaos that follows such endeavors! I'm best when its just me and the girls and nature. Van already knew this, of course, but it took me a bit longer to admit. It was quite an awakening when Anna seemed more excited to be able to play at the playground with me the day after than she seemed anytime before or during the party.

Happy Birthday Anna!

2008-03-07T18:25:00.014+02:00

Our beautiful Anna was born six years ago today.

She has taught me how to live, how to love, and how to grow.

SHE IS AMAZING and truly one-of-a-kind.

It does not do her justice to simply state that she's smart, funny, and thoughtful. She is the essence of those things and so much more. Her gifts and talents multiply with each passing year and yet she remains one of the most considerate of her peers. She's intelligent, creative, artistic, fun, kind, beautiful, popular, intuitive, enthusiastic, full of life, joyful, intense, beautifully naive and eternally optimistic.

We love and cherish our Anna! Everyday is fuller, richer, and more meaningful because of this little spitfire! I cannot imagine a world without her...

(Keep posted for an onslaught of Anna pictures and a synopsis of her upcoming dinosaur birthday party...)

Let us know if you've seen any of our trees, teeth, or hair

2008-03-01T18:37:00.013+02:00

Okay, so my postings have been few and far between of late, but our lives have not been uneventful to say the least...

The past month witnessed the downfall of three beautiful, privacy-creating trees, the mysterious disappearance of a significant amount of Van's beautiful hair, and the falling out of Anna's second tooth. ( - I wanted to include a picture of Van's bald spot, but he hasn't exactly been home from work enough these days to catch him..) It all happened pretty much simultaneously so Anna has been convinced that a hex or spell must have been placed on our family. Don't worry though, our little "mad" scientist is hard at work in search of an antidote...

While we wait for a cure, please enjoy a few pictures....

Anna smiles big to show off her missing tooth...

Anna preparing for her first night sleeping over at a friend's house!

Amelia at the strawberry patch...

2008-02-06T12:57:00.000+02:00

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Amelia is THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-02-05T20:14:00.000+02:00

(Due to various technical and logistical roadblocks, I apologize for being a bit behind on posting this VERY important birthday message)

On February 3, 2008 my little Amelia turned 3.

If you haven't gotten a chance to know this amazing little girl, pray to whatever God you worship that you may one day be lucky enough to meet her... she is the kind of girl that people are drawn to, not so much because of her outward beauty but rather because her inner beauty is neither flaunted nor hidden - its just there plain as day.

She is charming, playful, inventive, creative, controlled, intense, strong both mentally and physically, capable of moving mountains or five-year old boys, sweet, graceful, artistic, intellectual, highly spiritual, emotionally balanced, easy-going, beautiful, flirtatious (- yes- she already has two boyfriends at preschool fighting for her affections), confident, logical, loving, fun, and funny. And she gives the world's best hugs - hands down.

Her favorite animal is a triceratops, her favorite color is red, and she tells me her favorite song is "the ballerina song." "You know, mom" she continues, in a hip-hop sing song voice "go ballerina, go, go ballerina, go!"
I thank God everyday for this special creature!
Here are a few pictures from the past few years...

(^More technical difficulties here ^)(Okay this particular picture is not due to technical difficulties but rather my shrinking pregnant brain...)

Sometimes the truth hurts...

2008-01-25T22:56:00.000+02:00

Polite people everywhere have been feeding me a sweet lie.

My daughters however, have, on their own, decided to show me truth.

I'm a "BIG MAMA!"

Happy Birthday Steve!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-20T22:39:00.000+02:00

Even the best of men are no match for my girls...

(I bet you never thought these pictures would be seen by anyone.)

Happy Birthday.

We love you.

We miss you.

Christmas morning...

2007-12-26T20:58:00.000+02:00

The morning was a resounding success and we are all exhausted beyond words - so I'll keep them to a minimum and send out a few pictures in their place.

Thanks to all who sent cards, gifts, and well-wishes! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all...

Jerusalem on Christmas Eve...

2007-12-25T23:22:00.000+02:00

Despite my earlier lament, we actually managed to brave the balmy moonlit night and travel to Jerusalem for Christmas Eve. The girls lasted all of 15min. at the church service, but we did enjoy a few fleeting moments of pure Christmas joy. Imagine a festival of bells as you peer over Jerusalem brightly lit by a full moon on Christmas Eve, your children dancing in pure excitement over thoughts of what the morning will bring...
now imagine trying to cram those lovelies back into their car seats for a ride that lasts as long as their mammoth whines can endure... that's apparently 1 1/2 hours...
(I kept trying to imagine that the noises emanating from the backseat were just more bells, but as you know, mood-altering substances of any kind necessary for such a job are strictly off-limits during pregnancy...)

No pictures of this one, but check back tomorrow for pictures of the girls on Christmas morning...

Santa in Tel Aviv!

2007-12-25T20:48:00.001+02:00

Well, thanks to some intense diplomatic negotiations, Santa accepted an invitation by the ambassador to attend his annual party. The girls, with quite a bit of prodding and a few chocolate bribes, sat on Santa's lap for a quick photo op.

Notice how the pictures progress and then tragically end. Amelia is slowly realizing that chocolate can be both friend and foe.

Merry Christmas from the Holyland!

2007-12-22T00:36:00.002+02:00

Its been a hectic few weeks here with all of the smoke and mirrors Van and I have had to juggle. Yes, I'm referring to creating Christmas out of literally nothing. Its funny, I really had no idea that Christmas in Israel would be quite this difficult. I mean this where it all took place, right? I naively thought to myself that if the Israelis weren't going to celebrate Christmas, no problem, we could at least be physically and therefore spiritually close to the action (albeit 2000 years or so after the fact). But all of these places are political hotbeds. We can't even visit Bethlehem. Its right up the road and I can't even visit on Christmas day. Its just too dangerous right now and any attempt would require half an army of security, and that in itself could flare tempers and start freakin' WWIII.

I guess I should look on the bright side - no I'm not alluding to the SPECTACULAR weather outside, rather the fact that at least for now, our girls are shielded from the crazy consumerism that looms over Christmas in the U.S. The year that we lived in D.C., Anna knew exactly what she wanted, where to buy it, and how much it cost - and she was only 3 1/2 yrs. old!!!!! Contrastingly last year, she struggled for days with her list to Santa and could only come up with a ukulele and a yo-yo. Not kidding. Of course we bought her quite a bit more, but even a wrapped crayon box brought utter joy and gratitude.

Here are some pictures from Anna's school Christmas party...

Lots of songs and stories...

Lots of presents...Lots and lots and lots of sugar-coated stuff...

And a perfect ending for mom...

!!!!!!!HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!!!!!

2007-12-05T14:04:00.000+02:00

We are so grateful to have been able to celebrate your birthday before you left! We hope that your real birthday is filled with just as much joy...

We're missing you...

Happy Hanukkah

2007-12-04T20:24:00.000+02:00

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah. The girls celebrated by eating traditional sufganiots, a kind of jelly donut, and lighting the first candle of the chanukkiah that Amelia made at school yesterday. As Anna so graciously pointed out to me last year in front of a room full of Israelis, the menorah is used for shabbat and the chanukkiah is used during Hanukkah. Duhh mom! This is Israel, not America!

Happy Hanukkah to everyone...

The Parent Trap

2007-11-26T21:06:00.000+02:00

Our master plan is nearing completion...Susan, Grandma Anagene and Boyd, Aunt Chrissy, and now my unsuspecting, but quite fearful mom and dad have all boarded planes destined for the heart and soul of the Middle East.
Some have fallen victim to the whole "cute and cuddly grandchildren" routine while others have succumbed to the more spiritual "Jesus walked on this very rock" ploy, but we have more tricks up our short sleeves...we have yet to use the "the history of the world rests in the partitioning of that toilet." Be forewarned, we fight dirty. Soon you too might find yourself driving down a desert highway as Van points to terrorist villages, quietly grinning as you squirm in discomfort, downright gleeful as your nervous sweat penetrates the noose-like seat belt cramming you tight to the seat. Funny there always seems to be smoke emanating from some small part of such a village - just as Van casually speaks of its significance...he's a master of timing.

Here are some pictures of our latest victims, um, I mean visitors...
Nazareth:

Cesearia:

Galilee: Beauties at the Church of the Beatitudes

Jerusalem: Dad began and ended his route down the Via Dolorosa with Amelia on his shoulders - we all have our cross to bear!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-11-25T21:49:00.000+02:00

Thanks to my parents, we had one of the best Thanksgiving feasts to date! My mom and I cooked while Van and dad joined the girls for a dinosaur movie in Amelia's room. Its amazing what men will endure to avoid the kitchen on Thanksgiving. (They sadly had little choice since American football would not be shown till late into the night!) Due to our hard work and equally intense feasting we failed to smile for any sort of Thanksgiving picture. The best we have is a picture of the girls outside with popsicles, patiently awaiting food. They decided to dress up for the event: Anna updated her Native American outfit with one half-braid, while Amelia wore what she called "my thanksgiving ballerina princess American native dress" - kind of a mouthful for a two and an half year old!

Wishing all of our family love............

A Dose of Reality

2007-11-13T22:53:00.000+02:00

Okay, so now its time to expose some of you softies to a few of the realities of living in Israel. You may realize by now that we've consciously avoided any politicization of our blog site. Though our reasons are exhaustive, one of the most notable is that, well, my mom reads this site. But, we are feeling a bit brazen, filled with the confidence that within a few days she herself will be on a plane destined for Tel Aviv. So here you go mamas: 2 pictures of Van and Hamas related stuff. The first I'd like to title "Target! American Diplomat as sitting duck for Hamas outpost. (courtesy of the Egyptian Gov.)" --- they kindly provided the vest that serves more as a bulls eye than bullet protector...

I was going to say - as a joke - that the second picture was what we found in the backyard, but that would just be cruel...it was the neighbor's yard.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

2007-10-31T21:58:00.000+02:00

Its days like today that I ache for the U.S.

American holidays just don't have the same feeling when living in another country - no matter how hard we try to recapture the spirit. And believe me we try hard. Its because of this effort, though, that I think the girls are able to buy our American fairytale. Or perhaps it was all of that sugar...

Here are a few pictures from our "Halloween" --- Enjoy! We did.

Did he ever have a chance...

2007-10-16T21:14:00.000+02:00

or should I title this, "Van's Life in Pink"???? Well, he doesn't have a chance against us now that we have an additional player on our side. Yes, in April, there will be yet another GIRL kicking and screaming in our house.

Sukkot!

2007-09-29T15:55:00.000+02:00

On the fifth day after Yom Kippur, the holiday of Sukkot is celebrated in rememberance of the period of wandering. It is customary to build and decorate a sukkah, or temporary dwelling. Van and the girls went a little tribal with ours - just can't shake the Native American and Haitian influences, it seems. Thought I'd share a couple of pictures...

(Happy)Yom Kippur!!!!!

2007-09-22T21:40:00.000+02:00

This has to be my favorite Israeli holiday! It is a day of fasting, reflection, and atonement. It is the Sabbath of all Sabbbaths, and its adherence is STRICTLY enforced. EVERYTHING is closed. Cars are forbidden. Noise is minimal. It is symbolic to wear white and solemnly walk the streets. The seculars, however, cycle at varying speeds with family and friends. We fell somewhere in between. Its quite difficult to keep the girls solemn whilst riding bikes down car-less streets --- its all too exciting! Here are some photos from our day in the streets....

Green eggs and ham, whatever Amelia wants to eat...

2007-09-21T20:56:00.000+02:00

Its official, Amelia is no longer allergic to EGGS or SOY! Its funny, but I'm having a very difficult time with it --- I'm in complete shock. In fact, I had to get a second doctor to give a second allergy test before letting myself really absorb the news. I just could not accept that life could be normal after so many years of stress and anxiety over every single meal. It is unreal to think that we can eat at restaurants, we can order take-out, we can go to parties without preparing separate food, we can eat ANYTHING we want at any time. I'm overwhelmed!!!!!!

2007-09-12T12:33:00.000+03:00

Welcome family and friends!
Our WAR, weekly activity report, is an attempt to keep the mama's of our world informed and up-to-date with pictures and all. As we leap from country to country, Van and I have found it increasingly difficult to keep in touch with everyone. We've come to terms with our laziness, but sadly, others have not. This blogsite will hopefully put an end to everyone's grumblings and heal the wounds of neglect.
DISCLAIMER: This by no means indicates that we think anyone cares enough to "check-in" on our site regularly or to read my pathetic ramblings and periodic diatribes in part or in full. Actually, we predict that our readership/viewership will be limited to certain women with the names Betty and Susan.
Check soon for updated pictures..................