I introduced my 12-year-old son to Wordle. At the same time, I introduced him to וורדעל. I love that both prospects are exciting, and we're chatting with each other throughout the day about it (I still shudder at the fact he has a smartphone even if whatsapping together is a huge comms improvement). You know... Continue Reading →
I came home from the office one day last week and had this realization. It's gotten better. Or... it becomes *different* as the kids get older, and so much becomes more tolerable, doable, and you know what? Also better. Do my pre-teens still mime at me from behind my laptop while I'm on a Zoom, thinking I can... Continue Reading →
To the boy who is ~5 inches from towering over me, It's getting real. Twelve years of you, of figuring all this out, it's always been real, yes, but now it's puberty real. It's preteen real. It's who is this giant boy in my house real. So we're both navigating it. You have questions, and... Continue Reading →
My youngest turns five today. Zooey, we're full-on into that tug-o-war over getting bigger and staying baby... It's not even day on, day off; it's sometimes in five minute intervals. But I don't begrudge you that; it's been a year of fading boundaries, loose definitions, lost assumptions. Out of everyone, this year might have done... Continue Reading →
I'd say that over the last decade, this feeling I'm about to describe has always been present in amounts, more often taken for granted - the swath of peace that came with you as a newborn, the displays of empathy that radiated from you as a toddler, the abundance of friendliness you have displayed as... Continue Reading →
If last year's birthday felt totally eye-glazed and desolate... the year that followed was like being trapped in a box but actually, the box helped you break out while stuck inside. I'm not sure where to begin as far as how you've forged ahead, and continued growing, refusing to fall behind or be let down.... Continue Reading →
Memes and friends and global outlooks warned me that as my son would get older, you'd become less affectionate or more wary of showing emotion. You wouldn't know it by looking around our house...
You might think, Zooey, that as the fourth or last to do something, it would be less exciting. We've seen the others take steps, we've seen the others ride bikes, we've seen the others draw a face for the first time. But that's not what makes you, or any of you, special or interesting; the... Continue Reading →
I am new at this having-a-daughter thing, even if I'm nine years in. In fact, each passing day I am new at it. Are we ever not new at it? You may have an older brother, but you're definitely the oldest sister; your sisters look up to you - especially Nettles, who worships you at... Continue Reading →
“Ima, I want to call Grandma.” That’s how it’s been for days since we left New York, rushed, unplanned, in the style of not letting dough rise. We basically fled the city, across the ocean, back to the Middle East, straight into quarantine. Straight into days of looking into your eyes, which have been glazed... Continue Reading →
It gets harder every year. Yom HaShoah. Yom HaZicaron. Every year the ticking accelerates. Every year I realize all over again how important it is to not take any of it for granted. Every hug, every cuddle. Every whispered secret. Every question. Every silent moment, holding hands. Feeling up-down-up-down of a tiny chest against my... Continue Reading →
Ten things I love about you this year: 1. You read like I do. Viciously, hungrily. 2. While you've always had your own sense of style, it's starting to become sharper. And you care. 3. The girls in your class respect you. Because you respect them. 4. You still find it hard to control your... Continue Reading →
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