Shabbos Callers

Before Shabbos, I happen to have quite a lot of stuff to do. 

Besides for hair styling and the Face, I am the only one in my house who knows how to operate the Shabbos zaigers (clocks), amongst other things. Meaning as soon as I get home from work I am a tad occupied. 

It is, therefore, not the most opportune time for guys to call for the first time. And yet, on more than one occasion, they do. 

I was surprised one Motzei Shabbos to find a voicemail, left barely 30 minutes before lechtzen, by a first-time caller. Dude!

One fellow said he would call me on Friday, and after watching my cell from 8 a.m. on he finally called. There was less than 100 minutes left, and I was behind schedule. With my eye on the clock, I decided to be truthful when he asked if this was a good time.  ("You what?" Ma shrieked.)

I may not have as much to do before Shabbos like Tevye's daughters, but there is still a lot I have to take care of. I can't have a casual chat when I have every minute plotted out. Shower (10 minutes, with deep conditioning), hair (30 minutes, not counting air-dry time), makeup (20 minutes), lachter, blech, urn. 

What do the fellas have to do, anyway? Walk in and out of a shower, a quick buzz of the Norelco, hop into a suit, and breeze out the door. If they live at home, I doubt they have many pre-candle lighting chores (if any men out there do, please feel free to share). If they live on their own, chances are they have meals lined up outside of their kitchen. Use your imagination, my males, as to what makes the differences between the genders. 

Kindly be understanding that if you call on a Friday, make it EARLY afternoon, if not the morning. Because if I am going to look civilized on Shabbos, it doesn't just happen.

You are Not Special

Yes, yes, while I do not yet have children of my own, that does not mean I cannot link an article about how to have successful kids. 

Reading historical novels, it's interesting to note that one upon a time children = free labor. "Good work, Mother! With our eighth son, we can finally plow that stretch of land yonder!" 

Or they were exchanged in marriage to bind social ties. The farmers would probably have swapped their daughters for an ox. "'Little cow?' Is that what you call her!"

Thankfully times have changed. With more time on our hands parents have decided to micro-analyze their influence to ensure that their offspring are better versions of themselves. But how to go about that? 

According to the article, be authoritative. Apparently, that's how to motivate. But not by praise before the fact. 

This may seem counterintuitive, but praising children’s talents and abilities seems to rattle their confidence.

Meaning, saying "You're smart" or "You're strong" or "You can beat any other kid single-handedly" is not the way to go. That incites feelings of self-consciousness and pressure. They should be able to tackle a task without worrying that failure could affect their "status." 

The happiest, most successful children have parents who do not do for them what they are capable of doing, or almost capable of doing; and their parents do not do things for them that satisfy their own needs rather than the needs of the child.

One perk of being the youngest is that my parents weren't really aware of my schoolwork. If I had a project, I went about it solo (well, Luke helped from time to time). But when I glued and taped and stapled on my own, I felt so accomplished, way more that the kid who proudly marched in with an obvious "Mommy-Made" diorama. I did it.

Once your child is capable of doing something, congratulate yourself on a job well done and move on. Continued, unnecessary intervention makes your child feel bad about himself (if he’s young) or angry at you (if he’s a teenager).  

The article compares a parent's hands-off method in this regard to when a baby learns to walk. 

You were in thrall to those early attempts and would do everything possible to encourage her to get up again. You certainly didn’t chastise her for failing or utter dire predictions about flipping burgers for the rest of her life if she fell again. You were present, alert and available to guide if necessary. But you didn’t pick her up every time.

You knew she had to get it wrong many times before she could get it right. 

It makes perfect sense that success is found independent from parental intervention. But why do so many meddle?

So if children are able to live with mistakes and even failing, why does it drive us crazy? So many parents have said to me, “I can’t stand to see my child unhappy.”  

Ah. Then it is not about the kid. It is about the mommy. 

If you can’t stand to see your child unhappy, you are in the wrong business. The small challenges that start in infancy (the first whimper that doesn’t bring you running) present the opportunity for “successful failures,” that is, failures your child can live with and grow from. 

Keep in mind this is the opposite of the "Tiger Mom" approach. 

As Shmuley Boteach notes, Chua's method does not permit or tolerate failure. At all. Ever. That is not what Madeline Levy advocates. 

When we do things for our children out of our own needs rather than theirs, it forces them to circumvent the most critical task of childhood: to develop a robust sense of self. 

And be sure to practice what you preach. And that you are happy, in general. 

Give Me Your Boring

Perhaps one of the reasons I am a self-proclaimed non-romantic is the idea that meaningfulness is supposed to be flowers and candlelit dinners and teddy bears with heart-shaped tummies. Now we all know that can't be all the time, the impassioned speeches of love, the "promises," the red roses. 

I'm more of an "everyday" sort of girl. I care about a relationship for the day-to-day. Sure, he can sing "Eshes Chayil" weekly, but how does that help me when I have an overflowing garbage can and too few hands?

Same thing with vacations. While I do enjoy seeing new places (although I am certainly not a good traveler) I don't feverishly plan them the way some others do. If I am leaving the country, nice. If I never do again, okay. Because I don't "need to get away."

Life is the everyday. Not the once in a while. 

Raluca State wrote "I Don't Believe in Date Night." (Horrors!) While it's nice and all, her argument is that getting out every once in a while and shimmying into something non-baby projectile friendly is not what keeps her marriage tight. 

I believe in everything that happens in between date nights.

Life isn't the romance or the getaways. Life is the tedious, the routine, the vacuuming. Sure, it's not dazzling, but it's real. And just because it's rather dull doesn't make it any less important. 

Take child care. Existence for full-time mommies revolve around nap times, mashed yams, and baby talk. While some may consider such a role to be intellectually oppressive, consider the greater picture: She is raising the next generation; she is teaching that child how to behave and how to believe. That can provide a great spiritual high, in my opinion. And I can say that after holding a vomiting niece over the bathtub.

"While you are scrubbing that pot," a psychologist guru would say, "you are doing your tafkid." Yes, even dishwashing can be elevated to a higher level. 

It's also about being in the moment. Let's say a date night is scheduled. Who's to say that either husband or wife will feel like chatting at that time? Deep "give and take" can't be forced. The best conversations don't surface at the perfect setting, but at the perfect moment (oversized t-shirts instead of Spanx). If one can see that the other half feels like sharing, one should seize that opportunity of making oneself emotionally available.  

So it comes back to perspective. Where should an anniversary be celebrated? At a restaurant, or at home, where the marriage actually takes place?  Put the kids to bed early, maybe don a clean-ish top, and turn off any phones. Nothing says "Happy Anniversary" like leftovers.    

So I don't believe in date nights. I think you should focus on your marriage when you're in the house -- no waiters, no specialty cocktails, no skinny jeans and heels. I believe it has made my marriage stronger. I believe it has kept it secure through ups and downs. I believe it can help you have fun with your partner again. And I firmly believe in saving the cocktails, waiters and skinny jeans for girls' night out instead. 

The Good and The Right

On a talk show interview, Jane Lynch (of "Glee") said, "Do you want to be right, or do you want to be good?" 

In my local paper, an article was printed that detailed the lengths a principal went to preserve the feelings of a young student. The next week, a man wrote in, saying that story struck him so deeply that he decided to halt divorce proceedings. For the sake of his children, he said, he can stop arguing with his wife.

Luke went to a shiur that cited the Talmud tale of Reb Eliezer, who was able to invoke the natural world around him to prove the truth of his position. Water flowed against the current, trees uprooted themselves, walls fell down, a divine voice rang out from Heaven, and the other rabbanim were unmoved, since, they said, "After the majority one must incline." 

The shiur-giver said that the purpose of these nissim was not to be validations of Reb Eliezer's position, but rather to invoke understanding from those who would not see his viewpoint. Then they said, "Yes, we see where he is coming from, but that is not the issue; a majority has ruled." 

It wasn't important that he was right. It was they should have the consideration to comprehend his standpoint.

Being "right" often means belittling others; but we, as a people, are willing to let big matters stand aside for the sake of being good. Aharon, brother of Moshe, would lie through his teeth to bring peace between people. And that was okay.

In the 2008 film "Flash of Genius," the main character, Bob Kearns, becomes so absorbed that the credit for his invention was unjustly taken from him that he eventually alienates his wife and his children. 

Nothing should be more important than one's family, to whom one owes all their "goodness." Yes, he was cheated. Yes, it was wrong. But was it worth the price to make things "right"? 

Melting Pot

In the Jewish Action, there was a lovely article by Charlotte Friedland called "Mixed Breed" that should be read by one and all.

Does Anybody See What I See?

Middos are relative. 

Frumkeit is relative. 

"Good looking" is relative. 

"Normal" is relative. 

"Bright" is relative. 

"Tall" is relative. 

Maturity is relative. 

"Educated" is relative. 

"Nice" is relative. 

Welcome to the dating world, where only the medicated survive. 

Hey Bright Eyes

As I previously addressed, I prefer not to color my waterline with black pencil since I think it makes eyes look smaller. 

Previously I had the Tarte EmphasEYES Inner Rim Brightener, which is nude/soft beige. It lasts okay. 

I decided I wanted to get a white pencil for extra drama, à la this ad: 

My fetish for bling aside, check out her waterline. WHITE pencil.

Nars Larger Than Life Long-Wear Eyeliner in Santa Monica Blvd was my first try. It goes without saying that of course the only pencil I would try would be matte, and most have a pearl or shimmer finish, so there is a somewhat narrow selection.

I swiped it along my hand, and I was amazed that no matter how I smudged it with my finger, it did not budge. The question is if that bond will be there with a damp base like the waterline. 

Hmph. No matter how many times I ran it up and down my eyelid, only a fraction of color deposited there. Time for an exchange.

Enter Make Up For Ever Kohl Pencil in Matte White 2K. This one was much better than the Nars for the waterline—is actually colored it.

While watching a tutorial on YouTube by Zukreat, I picked up this tip: After applying nude or white pencil to the waterline, set it with a like-colored eyeshadow. So for this, I would use my white Illamasqua shadow; for the Tarte nude-hue, I use the eyeshadow for highlighting my eyebrow arch. 

While I'm Dreaming

While this blog is Star Wars themed, my actual superhero obsession is Batman. Before Christian Bale showed up. 

Batman doesn't need radioactive spiders or alien parentage. Not only that, he's not so cheerful about taking the bad guys alive. Those goody-goody two-shoes superheros can be tiresome.  

So when I stumbled across this survey of "What Your Superhero Crush Says About You," I scrolled through to see what my thing for Bats means. 

Not only is Batman a crime fighter, he's also a billionaire playboy. "You may be attracted to wealth," says Lombardo. "And you probably enjoy the challenge of getting the man who everyone else wants."

Possible Pitfalls: "There will be a lot of competition for his heart, so he'll frequently be tempted by others," says Lombardo.

Wait a sec, that is not me at all! 

I scrolled through the other superheros. The other options weren't so much better. Apparently, they all have really annoying pitfalls.

Eh. I wasn't made to stitch the holes in a superhero cape. 

Master of the Good Name

After listening to an apropos Charlie Harary shiur (a few times) during the 9 Days, his overall message was constantly replaying: Moshiach coming is not based on our passivity. It is based on our activity.

And, the day after the tannis, I was listening to Matisyahu's Spark Seeker. It is a constant theme in his music, but it can always bear repeating. Like a chunk of the lyrics for "Bal Shem Tov": 

It's your life to live, I can't live it for you
It's your time to give, and I can't give it for you
It's your fear to lose, I can't lose it for you
Death or life, so choose, and I put both before you
So, find your word of truth, you've got to find your word of truth

Search heaven and the seven seas
Answer lies inside you
You know it won't come easy
You've got to find your own truth

The first words of the song, as you may notice, is "Rosh HaShana."

I had thought this concept was so original, until, as I was reading along with yesterday's parsha, Nitzavim:

(Devarim 30:11, from the Artscroll Stone Edition Tanach) For this commandment that I command you today — it is not hidden from you and it is not distant. It is not in heaven, [for you] to say, "Who can ascend to the heaven for us and take it for us, so that we can listen to it and perform it?" Nor is it across the sea, [for you] to say, "Who can cross to the other side of the sea for us and take it for us, so that we can listen to it and perform it?" Rather, the matter is very near you — in your mouth and your heart — to perform it. 

No wonder the song begins with "Rosh HaShana." 

The meforash clarifies (if clarifying is needed) that: Far from requiring superhuman efforts or supernatural revelations to be equal to God's expectations, that goal is very much within reach — if people but make a sincere effort to grasp it. 

I was then reminded of Avraham Fried's song, "Ki HaMitzvah," and went scrabbling over YouTube. I found the clearest version, funnily enough, on Grooveshark. (It didn't let me link directly to his song, but if you search for that same exact spelling as above it pops right up.)


I gotta be me . . . because it is all up to me. As Charlie Harary said, redemption won't come from making comparisons to what others are doing or should be doing or shouldn't be doing. It is me.

A git gebensht yur to all.   

Postive Energy

30 Rock, "Lee Marvin vs. Derek Jeter": Liz is complaining to Jack about attending a singles event at the Y. 

Liz: This whole thing is unfair. You're juggling two beautiful women while I have to pay to have kickballs whipped at me. This is gender inequity out the yang.

Jack: This has nothing to do with the slight difference in our genders.

Liz: Yes, it does. The older you get the more distinguished you are. Meanwhile, I'm reading a book called, Hiding Your Arms, Hiding Your Anger: Dating Over 35.

Jack: Lemon, I am successful romantically because because I am confident, open, and positive. You are negative, pessimistic, and in danger of becoming permanently sour.

* 

I have mentioned beforehand that I am anti-positive. But that is for my own internal machinery. For outward purposes, I have developed an Oscar-worthy cheerful demeanor. 

It all comes back to "Put On A Happy Face," aka Suck It Up.