A Break for Girly News!

I am old enough to remember when American Girl books and dolls came out. Naturally it was the books which first drew me in, and I can remember waiting for the newest installments to come out all through elementary school. As I aged out of the series, I continued to keep an eye on the dolls. Those beautiful dolls, so expensive for a working class family, but so exciting with all their accoutrements! It's amazing how much one doll can collect (because you know you're not collecting these things yourself, don't you?).

Now with a daughter I continue to watch the American Girl dolls, but never really thought they were worth the expense...until now. Meet Rebecca Rubin, the newest American Girl!

I am excited about this doll for a number of reasons. First, as a history major and a parent the ability to introduce history in my child's toy (as opposed to "The History of Strawberry Shortcake" ) is a large draw. According to the Times, the historicity of Rebecca's story seems to be on target, which is the first question I always need answered. Second, as a developing Jewish family the ability for my daughter to find a doll she can identify with religiously (as opposed to "Christmas for Samantha" and other holiday stories) is promising. Especially living in a rural area without the Jewish flavor that might be found in a larger community, any chance to help my daughter see Judaism around her is one worth taking.

The third reason is the doll itself. Not only is it a historical, Jewish doll, but my daughter looked at the picture and said "it's me!" She also has the light brown hair with auburn highlights, which until last week fell to the middle of her back. Knowing that I was secretly planning to purchase this doll for her birthday, I had to grin when she followed that observation up with a question: "Does she come with challah?"

Why, yes, my dear, she does! I can hardly wait till Miss Rebecca Rubin goes on sale next week. A hat tip to both Chaviva and Frume Sarah, as they both have featured this new arrival on their blogs before me.

Chag Sameach Shavuot!

My, My, My...

Yes, I'm from the South, as you may have gathered from my title. I do say things such as "my goodness!" and "weyll" (speakers of proper English may know that word by its proper spelling, "well." But when gusting it out as a tired exclamation, there's another syllable added). This is all appropos of nothing, but now you know.

So much has been going on in my life since I last blogged, I don't know where to begin. Without a reliable babysitter my evening service attendance has become non-existent. I'm very sad and frustrated about that, especially since it's been a year since I began attending services. It just seemed appropriate to attend on the same chag on which I started: Simchat Torah. As always, life seems to get in the way when you don't make special arrangements for priorities.

My husband has been gone two and a half of the nearly 18 months he'll be serving. My mother has taken a turn for the worse and will be moved to a nursing home as soon as her mental state is stabilized in the hospital. The dementia which has been slowly affecting her over the past several years has advanced to the stage where she doesn't recognize me or my children, and she's become very volatile and agitated. This move is probably the best thing for the entire family, as she'll be able to receive better care in a professional setting, and my father and younger brother will be able to lead semi-normal lives once again. The strain of the situation on my father is difficult to express, but I'm glad he's able to find peace in his decision.

I continue in my studies, both in school and shul. We are taking a break from our Intro to Judaism class after the High Holy Days, but I was able to meet up with a friend from class to discuss the Torah portion Noach, as well as the election, which at the time was days away. As for that, I can only say I'm glad the campaign is over; now may the work begin!

Preparations are underway for Thanksgiving and soon the winter holiday season will be upon us. I am having trouble pulling myself out of the tired funk I've fallen into. I spend too much time up late at night trying to play catch-up on all the things I probably should have had time for earlier in the day...but yet they remain unfinished. It doesn't help that a mother's work is never done--there's a constant round of laundry, especially since flu season hit us early and hard this year. My poor son has had to deal with several bouts of stomach ailments in the past couple weeks. Good thing the little guy is tough as nails. If only I were!

This has been a bit of a stream-of-consciousness post, but I just don't have a strong topic to write on right now. Must be the exhaustion you only get staying up all night rubbing backs and smoothing hair off fevered foreheads. I hope everyone else is healthy and well...time to enjoy the last few days of fall before the cold weather really hits!

Some joys, some oys...

I suppose I'll start with the joys...might as well have a smile to begin, right?

Today we were in town going to the library when my daughter asked, "Mommy, where is the synagogue?" I pointed it out to her as we drove past, and she added, "I liked going there, when can we go again?" I'm sure I was grinning from ear to ear until we reached our next destination in our errands. How great is it when your child wants to take part in something that's important to you?

Another joy, I watched the film Crossing Delancey this afternoon. During the bris the officiating rabbi/mohel recites blessings, and it was music to my ears to hear Baruch ata Adonai... I love that this is becoming "home" to me, that it's so natural to hear a blessing that I can nearly join in for the entirety.

On to the "oys"...the downside of my daughter wanting to go with me to services is that my husband has laid down the law that he will not allow "his" children to be raised Jewishly. He is adamant that he does not want me to take the kids with me to services or to allow them to engage in rituals with me at home. I also have bowed to his wishes in choosing not to continue attending services for the time being, which is very difficult for me in some ways. I miss the prayers, I miss the rituals, I miss the community I was calling my own. My marriage is also a 'covenant,' however, since I entered into it as a Christian under the auspices of the Presbyterian Church. I love my husband dearly, and I don't believe that G-d intends for this marriage to be broken. With that thought in mind, I am doing my best to maintain shalom bayit, even though it means compromising on something important to me.

The other oy from the film, to match the joy, was the thought occurring to me at the end when Sam says he recited a bracha before going to Bubbe's apartment: sigh "I wish I had a Jewish husband..."

I'm not entirely certain why my life has taken this turn, but I hope there's some purpose, or at least a positive outcome, to all this emotional Laffy-taffy I'm feeling subjected to!

With all those thoughts out of the way, I'm looking forward to Shabbat this week! I wish everyone Shabbat Shalom. :)

Jews, History, and Me

You sometimes hear about women pitting their education and career choices against their home and family choices. There's a fear of being "Mommy-tracked" instead of "fast tracked." Then on the other hand, there are those who choose "sequencing"...meaning rather than having it all, they choose to have it one at a time, or take a break while the children are little. I am one of those mothers, in a way.

I got married and had children soon after high school, since I had no idea what I would do with my life or what to study if I were to go on to college. Although I might have been able to receive scholarships, and certainly student loans, I couldn't see saddling myself with debt without purpose.

After having a child, I decided that I would begin my college career and become a teacher. It seemed like a sensible choice, since teachers are always in demand, and since I had always done childcare. I am at the point now that I'm completely unsure if I want to teach, or whether I'm in fact able to teach. Teaching is a profession which requires patience and "sticktoitiveness" which I often lack, and I would not want to bear the burden of having sucked some student's interest in learning dry because I was a horrible teacher.

However, because I'm halfway through working toward my bachelor's degree on a part-time basis (nearly 5 years now, with one year sabbatical after having a second child), I feel I should try to persevere. After all, I may well change my mind after doing observation and practicum (or it may simply solidify my belief that I can't hack it), but I'll never know till I try.

To this end, I am a history student at present. Before beginning my long journey into Judaism, I didn't notice Jews in history very much beyond the Holocaust. Jews just didn't seem to be that prevalent outside ghettos, the Black Death, pogroms, and Nazism. Now that I'm in history classes again (and I will be for some time to come: I'm majoring in history with a minor in education), I notice so much more when Judaism is mentioned...and when it is conspicuously absent. Not only that, but when Jews are mentioned, I feel my internal ears perking up...what? Me? Us? This is truly becoming my people, my history. This makes it that much harder to hear about the pogroms, the blood libels, the ghettos, the Holocaust...but at the same time, I feel more strongly than ever "Never Again!" I'm also that much prouder of Jewish history, and look forward to learning more all the time. I may even make the focus of my senior thesis something related to Jewish History. I'm looking forward to that as well!

Long Time Gone

If you're a Dixie Chicks fan, you'll know the title reference. All others may feel free to look it up at their leisure.

Do you ever feel that something just doesn't fit? Maybe you've started to wonder if you will ever fit anywhere. Well, as a blonde, Southern, country, formerly diehard Christian who wants to convert to Judaism, I can empathize. Sometimes Judaism seems so right for me...but that's only when I'm considering myself. Most of the time, it is feeling not-quite-right to very-wrong: not quite right in that I don't quite fit with the local synagogue crowd. Very wrong in that my husband and children are not only Gentiles, but Christians. Born-again, baptized Christians who love Jesus, love "Jesus Loves Me" to be sung to them, love to read about Jesus.

And then there's me. Confused, alone, torn in what feels like a million directions. Who is G-d? Who was/is Jesus of Nazareth, Yeshua? Who was/is/will be Moshiach? Where do I fit in all of this?

For Mother's Day we watched Gentleman's Agreement. The movie stars Gregory Peck as a writer who takes on an assignment to write about antisemitism in post-WWII America. At first he is hesitant because he feels unable to give a better treatment to the situation than had been done dozens of times over before. Then he has a light-bulb moment: he'll be Jewish for as long as it takes to get the material to write his piece. At one point he tells his Jewish boyhood friend not only is passing himself off as a Jew working, it's working a little too well. His mother's doctor reacts disapprovingly when he asks to be referred to a Jewish doctor at Mount Sinai or Beth Israel hospitals, his new fiance reacts poorly to the idea and argues over whether they should continue the charade in front of her sister and her friends, and most hurtful of all, his son is called "dirty Jew" and "kike" by the neighborhood kids and runs home crying.

Of course, the movie ends in a positive way, and I've always loved it for some reason. But seeing it now, after beginning the long journey toward Jewishness, it's as if I'm seeing it for the first time. It feels so much more hurtful when one might be the victim, versus the WASP who says, "Oh, how horrible...for you." The situation feels quite a bit different when the shoe is on the other foot, when you can't thank your lucky stars that you were born a Gentile, that your children will never go through that pain because they aren't a minority (or in the case of a convert, related to the minority). It certainly gave me pause.

I suppose I'm just feeling that even though I'm scared for what my choice may do to my family, to my children...I'm feeling that "the rest is a long time gone, and it ain't comin' back again..."

Absolutely Random Post

In which I carry on about absolutely random things in a stream-of-consciousness style.

I have just finished reading posts from a forum which is full of animus. I realize that people will be themselves, only more so, on the Internet. However, are we all really so touchy over supposed slights against virtual friends? The hatefulness I just wasted time perusing was enough to depress anyone, much less those who were fully involved in tearing each other down. Perhaps Thumper's mother had the right idea after all:

If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all. ~Bambi

And yes, in the interest of full disclosure, I do have those days myself. That's when I enjoy my Shabbat more than usual. It's a chance to clear my head, focus on something beyond my small world, and come back renewed and refreshed.

Moving on, don't you hate when you have ideas for posts, and once you get online you realize you've completely forgotten them? I had several posts over the past week which I was working on developing in my mind...and now I don't have even the ghostly wisps of those thoughts left to discuss. So frustrating!

On Sunday I had the opportunity to meet a fellow convert friend for coffee and a walk around town, which I thoroughly enjoyed. We have both been reading through Telushkin's Jewish Literacy, and with the situations in our families being similar, it was wonderful to be able to discuss things from the book with each other. By the end of our walk, we had to laugh at how often we were saying, "oh, well Telushkin said this about..." or "I think it was in Telushkin where there was this quote..." We decided we've become "Telushkinites:" all we know about Judaism we learned from Telushkin. Of course, not seriously, but I have been debating buying a copy of the book to have as a reference. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. We both agreed that Telushkin is highly readable and relateable. Considering the size of the book, and the fact that I plan to tackle "Biblical Literacy" sometime in the near future, I'm very thankful for that!

My friend brought up an interesting point while we were talking. He and my husband knew each other in school, and he is aware of my husband's dislike for my desire to convert to Judaism. He asked me whether my husband might be concerned that if I converted, I might decide that a Christian husband was not right for me any longer, and look for a "good Jewish boy" to marry instead.

Although I appreciate his concern, I doubt that my husband has that particular difficulty in mind when he stands so firmly against my conversion. I think that although he doesn't practice his faith, he still holds strongly to it, and would like me to do the same. I've written before about my concerns for my children and what conversion would mean for them; I believe that's a strong concern of my husband's as well.

After sharing this with my friend, he made the suggestion that I consider not converting, but attending shul as a Gentile. This doesn't sit well with me, because it feels like unfinished business. I'm not sure what exactly is pushing me toward taking that final step in becoming a member of the Tribe, which may be the topic for another post! (Ah, and here we find the secret to proper posting procedure...when a topic for a post comes to mind, WRITE IT DOWN! Or in this case, post it down.)

On a final, random note, I must go fix dinner. My children are hungry and fomenting revolt, starting with tearing up my freshly made bed.

On Conversion and Children

I'm sure every parent has looked down into their child's face as a sleeping infant and wanted for them the best, the least difficult, the most perfect life. I've read more than one article which was based on the premise that babies bring a spiritual reawakening into the home along with their first breath. I can't say that my spiritual reawakening was instantaneous, but there's nothing like the miracle of new life to make someone want to bless the heavens. If this new life ushers in a more devout mindset, a desire to pass this faith to the next generation, all the better. Children are remarkably open to whatever their parents tell them in their early years. Whether that sticks or not is up for questioning, but in the beginning even the Tooth Fairy is real, and G-d is in His heaven looking down on the world, tugging on His long, grey beard as He surveys His creation.

This raises a problem for a convert who is already a parent at that critical time. What do you tell your children? Do you open up their world to such bleak doubt? Once broken, is their trust and faith forever shattered, or will they simply follow the lead they are given?

While reading a children's book titled Many Ways, a book on the commonalities among the world's great religions, my school-aged daughter kept looking for symbols and rituals that were "English," ie, Christian. While I was drawn automatically to the Judaica, the Mogen David, the Shabbat candlelighting, the Torah scrolls, the kipa, she was drawn to the crosses, the baptisms, the choirs, the hot cross buns. When she said, "this is us, Mommy," I didn't have the heart to tell her, "No, that is you, dear. This over here is Mommy." How do you tear your family apart, setting yourself opposite that which you have taught your child, and putting your very self in opposition to hers?