(Mis)Adventures in International Travel: Back to NY

After Brookside Gardens we went to Max's, a kosher deli, for lunch. My brother hoped we could sit down, but my daughter (DiI) insisted we leave for the airport. I took the food, booster seats, strollers and children onto the Metro and said goodbye to my brother and nephew.

At National the computerized Shuttle "kiosk" rejected us. We were misdirected upstairs to the regular Delta counter, with a humongous line, and at 1:10 we found the Shuttle counter. Our flight was for 1:30. At least it wasn't cancelled.

When the computer again did not show our reservations, the agent simply began to book us in manually. I told her about the threat on our trip down, and she said we wouldn't be charged. She printed out old-fashioned cardpaper tickets and boarding passes. The people behind us in line were plotzing, so the agent advised them to check in using the electronic kiosk. "That's what they're for," she informed them helpfully.

At about 1:20 we got to the security line. The inspector looked at my brand-new boarding passes, marked them for special security, and directed us to another line. It's that middle eastern thing again; I'm not sure how we escaped it on the way down. DiI still doesn't understand how they knew just from looking at the boarding passes.

The woman at the front of the newest line decided not to argue with me after I explained that we had been diverted here from another line and our flight was in ten minutes. Small children are useful sometimes. They patted us down gender-appropriately and rifled through our hand luggage. When the basket on the conveyor belt began ringing an agent gave permission to answer my cellphone; we had passed. It was my brother -- I think he realized that we may have cut it too close. I told him that if he didn't hear from us again, we were on the plane.

We replaced our shoes and ran to the gate, catching the plane about 30 seconds before the doors closed. Two passengers from the check-in line boarded right behind us. We buckled into seats in the last three rows of the plane,

My four-year-old could finally eat her hotdog.

The lesson to be learned from Keren and the rest

I've had enough of the Keren story, at least for now. While gratified by the 1500 page views I received yesterday, I hope to attract visitors through my own writing on parenting, Israel, and the Jewish community. I'm still interested in the hyper-tzniut phenomenon, and I'll continue to provide occasional updates. But I won't be speculating about the truth of the abuse allegations and the reasons it may have occurred, nor will I be scouring the press for details.

Bli neder.

Instead, we can learn a valuable lesson from the recent reports of severe child abuse. Every family needs to be part of a connected, supportive community. This is especially important for those of us who made aliyah without our extended families. Last night I attended the bar mitzvah of a boy who lived near the family of the severely abused children from Jerusalem. The children's neighbors expressed shock that such terrible things could go on without anyone noticing or reporting them. This family of recent American olim (immigrants), living in the center of the city, did not appear to be on anyone's radar. And according to reports, the abused baby from Or Yehuda doesn't have any family member with him in the hospital.

Wherever you live, there are things you can do right now to make your community stronger.

• Call up a friend you haven't seen in a while.
  
• Help someone with a new or not-so-new baby: watch older kids, clear the sink, shop, or do the car pool run. Some communities arrange meals for two weeks after birth, but an extra meal can be helpful months down the road.
  
• Don't forget other times of transition including a move, pregnancy, illness or death in the family, hospital stay, or family simcha.
  
• Some people know what kind of help they need, but others will need you to make suggestions. Remember that people are most reluctant to ask when they are at their lowest.
• Don't be intimidated by the neighbor who offers to prepare Shabbat meals for a family of ten without a second thought. You can make a different contribution.
• If you can't help with a specific request, locate someone who can.
  
• When you see people struggling with their kids, give a hand or a few supportive words depending on the situation. Then make a note to discreetly check up later.
• Actively seek out newcomers to the community and get them connected.
• Seek to set up parenting education, breastfeeding support, and other services that strengthen young families.
  
• Often the most important thing you can do is listen to and acknowledge a person's feelings of frustration, exhaustion, or anxiety. Afterward you can make suggestions or share a solution that worked for you, but avoid giving advice.
• Finally, set an example and ask for help for yourself; don't pretend to be completely self-sufficient. Allow others to have the zechut (merit) of helping you.
  

Maybe, this way, a future tragedy can be prevented.

Choosing a Therapist

A while back, I wrote a post called Dealing with Challenging Children and a followup with the equally clever title More on Challenging Children. In the second post I offered suggestions on seeking professional help for children's problems. However, comments by frustrated parents made me realize I was in over my head.

In the meantime I got to know the humorous, sensitive and prolific Jewish blogger known as Therapy Doc and I asked her if she could post her thoughts on the subject. She graciously agreed, and here is the result: Choosing a Therapist. Her comments are directed at adults, but the same principles apply.

At the end she writes, "It's like a first and second date. You really don't have to see a person a second or third time if you know, deep down, that it's not a good fit. Therapy is a good place to work on NOT being co-dependent. It's a good place to put yourself and your family first."

Choosing a therapist for children is twice as hard because both the parents and the child need to click with the the therapist. And a bad match is more likely to cause damage.

Therapy Doc will be happy to answer questions over at her blog.

FLYing and landing

I discovered Flylady when I was pregnant with my fifth child. She took the best of SHE, imbued it with her own unique style and transferred it from a filebox to the internet.

Flylady immediately got rid of SHE's biggest problem. She says that the index cards made you feel guilty, and guilt keeps you from cleaning your house. Her attitude is to "Jump in wherever you are. You are not behind."

She divides the house into five zones, one for each week (or part thereof) in the month. In the beginning you focus on getting rid of clutter in each "zone." Once your clutter is gone (and even if you give up on Flylady at this point, you will never accumulate so much again), you work on keeping the zone orderly and clean. Another Flylady trademark, borrowed from SHE, is to get fully dressed each morning including lace-up shoes (so you can't take them off) and makeup (for women). The idea is that you should take your housework seriously, like a real job.

I followed Flylady's plan faithfully for at two or three years. The height of my Flylady experience (or should I say my highest flight?) was the day I ran into a friend while dropping off a child at gan. The friend had an hour to kill so I invited her home. She couldn't believe how neat the house was and how great I looked (I was wearing makeup) even though I had a young baby. For a long time, I didn't want to tell her about Flylady. Partly I was embarrassed to be following this clearly insane woman from North Carolina. But the bigger reason is that it felt like cheating. It's amazing how many hangups we can have about housework. In the end I told her, because, after all, I had cleaned my house, not Flylady.

The friend joined, and felt that Flylady was almost like a mother to her. Her own mother had never taught her homemaking.

Flylady spends little time on techniques, although if she comes across a timesaver she passes it on. It doesn't matter how you clean, as long as you do it. You start by shining your sink every night. Theoretically, if you keep one small part of your house clean the rest will follow. Once shining your sink is second nature, you decide to keep your kitchen table cleared. At the same time she encourages you to get rid of the clutter, the guilt and the perfectionism.

Perfectionism was a big one for me. When I had cleaning help, I criticized them (in my mind) because they left gunk on the sink strainer. In the meantime, without the help my own house was full of dust and clutter.

At some point I got tired of Flylady's exhortations and dozens of daily emails. I couldn't manage to really stick to the routines. Also, while she has toned down the Christian aspect a lot, the longer I live here the more talk about "blessings" bothered me.

I didn't tell my husband about Flylady and during the whole period of decluttering, shiny sinks and rotating Zones, my husband never commented. He is much better about putting things away than I am, and I'm sure that deep down he noticed and appreciated it. He just didn't get around to expressing it.

Frugality is not a high priority for Flylady. If you follow her system you will save money because you won't buy things you don't need, you'll locate what you already own and you'll be a better planner. But she encourages you to buy nice things and to use disposables. Participation is free, but she sells a lot of stuff to support her website. I own her duster, but I'm not sure it works on the thick Israeli dust (I have an Israeli friend who is convinced that dust doesn't exist in America); I prefer a slightly damp rag.

Another thing that caused me to let up on Flylady was becoming pregnant with #6. During the pregnancy we had a crisis involving one of our children, and (unrelated to the crisis) sold our old apartment. We had moved into our previous apartment with one child and moved out with six. The previous owner of the new apartment lost his father the day we were supposed to get the keys, we suffered from traumatic renovations that culminated in moving in with no kitchen, and we celebrated our son's Bar Mitzvah a few weeks later. With the backdrop of my stepmother's terminal illness (she was diagnosed the day #6 was born and died a year later), this meant that last week, 3.5 years after ordering the kitchen, I finally figured out how to shine the glass on my oven doors.

By George, I think she's got it!

My little girl, who is turning four tonight, started speech therapy because she said "ee" instead of "oo" (see here) like a Galitzianer. The therapist was able to correct it in the first session, but pointed out that my daughter also failed to distinguish between a short "e" and "a"; "bad" and "bed" both came out "bad." We hadn't noticed that she had a bit of a cockney accent, like Eliza in My Fair Lady. "Amy" came out as a rounded "aye-my."

At the fourth session she was still having trouble; it's hard to open your mouth just the right amount. My husband practiced singing "The Rain in Spain" with her. And a few days after that last session, she suddenly said the sounds correctly. And so my husband said, "By George, I think she's got it!"

School challenges and culture clashes

I've lived here seventeen years, but some situations still make me feel like I just stepped off the plane.

Commenter Regular Anonymous asked me to post about dealing with difficult school personnel. I am not the person to ask, because I have problems dealing even with non-difficult school personnel. It's a combination of the language (even though I have fluent Hebrew), the culture, and the fact that I am a nice, quiet American. I can overcome the feeling of intimidation in short bursts, but then I retreat. This causes me no end of difficulty, and not just with schools.

I have a friend whose son's teacher was picking on him. They couldn't accuse the teacher because that would make the situation worse. So they asked an Israeli what to do (you've noticed that native Israelis are experts at getting things to happen in schools). He told them to tell the teacher the following: "We are concerned about our son. He is convinced that you are picking on him, but we are sure that can't possibly be true." It worked like a charm.

If you don't have anyone to advise you, or the problem is complex, consider hiring someone to serve as your advocate and mediate between you and the school. There are social workers and psychologists who will work with the school to solve a child's problem. Sometimes switching schools is the best solution, especially in a private school that may not have interest in, or resources for, expending extra effort.