No "Growth" For Me

I've been wondering if I should feel like a "bad Jew." 

I don't mean pork, obviously. I mean in that once I had kids I've been in, as my friend describes, "survival mode." All day, all night, it's about keeping my offspring alive and somewhat content. It's a full time job.  

The shiurim I used to listen to have fallen to the wayside. When can I listen to them? How could I even hear them, with two loud babies? 

Even my reading material—when I finally get a chance to read, I need something light and escapist. I spend all day tending to the needs of two self-centered creatures; when I get the chance, I want my mind to unspool, not get worked up about my failings. 

Then I saw a reel on IG from a frum woman who feels exhausted from the constant emphasis on "growth" (I personally hate that word; I've always associated them with tumors). Are we ever permitted to just . . . be?

It's not like I'm twiddling my thumbs. I spend my days telling myself not to lose it with Ben, not to lose it with Ben, not to lose it with Ben, only to lose it with Ben. He's testing boundaries right and left, and it's testing my temper. 

It's not like I feel guilty. I come from European stock, which means they find the highest value in mothers killing themselves for the next generation, without demanding more.

Elul is a conversation of dun-dun-DUN!!!, but I don't care. I don't have the energy to care. I'm tapped out. 

Because it's technically 24/7 chessed, people. I've already resigned myself that Ben will marry a girl who can't stand me and they'll rarely visit. 

I know, I know, seek professional help.

I think that many of us have a lot on our plates. Some of us are caregivers, part of the sandwich generation to boot. They are asking God for assistance just to get through the day, and can't spare a thought to spiritual improvement. 

In a funny twist, I find that I'm in a better frame of mind on the Yomim Noraim than I used to. Pre-motherhood: Invariably, at davening, someone would bring their kids, make a racket, disturb my prayer, and make me so angry I knew I failed the divine test. For the last few years I've been home, in pajamas, davening sporadically, taking care of my offspring, but calm and mellow and exuding peace and love to all humankind (sort of). 

Last year my sister-in-law told me, "I've turned into you!" Now that her youngest is old enough she's started going to back to shul on Rosh HaShana/Yom Kippur, only to be driven mad by the antics of children. 

"The munching of the chips—the popping of those sensory toys—I just can't—" 

Maybe it's best that I'm home, doing mundane things on a sacred day. But the work is sacred to, in its own way.

Plans B, C, D . . .

Han had an insight the other day. 

In the Megillah, Mordechai tells Esther that she must try to save her people. He says that if she does nothing, the salvation will come from another source, but she must still try.

If you look at the Megillah, Han said, you don't see a Plan B, but according to Mordechai, there were other ways we could have been saved. 

It was like when we were dating, he said. When you are in it, you don't see the Plans. You don't see where it will come from. But they are there. 

I concurred it was true. For all my efforts, my visiting shadchanim, I didn't expect my aunt's friend who I barely knew to be the one to set us up. I didn't expect her to be a fierce advocate on by behalf, staying on top of the shidduch until it came through.  

The Megillah took place in a time of galus, past the time of supernatural miracles. But it is no less miraculous because it took place through a string of "convenient" coincidences. This is how Hashem speaks to us now. 

Esther did not get the shidduch of her dreams. She was taken from all she knew, the home she loved. Her child was raised Persian. But she was the savior of her people, and her name is praised for eternity. 

We can spend so much time looking in one direction, expecting only one way of doing things, when Hashem may say, "No. I have other plans for you." They are there, humming away in the background, whether we see them or not. 

The Chanukah Story

Do you really know the story of Chanukah? 

I certainly don't. It was told in school in a few sentences, not much in depth. I carried away so much misinformation that I made a fool of myself on a college paper by referring to "the Greek Empire." My professor left a notation in red ink that there was no Greek empire. 

Huh? 

Then I learned that the Jews were not dominated by Greek-Greeks, but by the Hellenized Seleucid Empire. Ooooooh. 

That's why, if you don't want to look stupid, like I did, I recommend listening to Dean Henry Abramson on the Chanukah story. Very educational.

A Fetik Holiday to All

I can't believe it took me until now to find latkes historically inaccurate. After being unnerved by a Jeopardy! clue that stated that the latke is a knock-off from—get this—a Greek sidedish, I gave it a google, leading to "What's a Latke, Really?" by Yoni Appelbaum.

Yet I had known that potatoes were indigenous to South America, making their European debut after the explorers lugged them back in the mid-1500s. 

As for frying in oil, Eastern European Jewry did not have canola. They had schmaltz, animal fat. If shooting for miraculous similarities, that ain't exactly from an olive. 

"Ma, did you have latkes in Hungary?" 

Snort. "Nope." 

Via Dinner With Rachel

Ah. Chremslach for Pesach, at least. I always liked those better than latkes. Babi did make donuts, though, for Chanuka—fánk.

But both latkes and donuts have limited appeal. Latkes are only good while still warm, and keeping them that way without drying them out is tiresome. Donuts are great fresh. Not longer than that. 

Baruch Hashem for our lives of prosperity; every home is equipped, year-round, with extra-virgin olive oil—shemen zayis zuch. However, it has a low-smoke point, meaning it is not ideal for frying. So instead of using the oil of the neis, we use the oil of . . . dubious origin to celebrate the holiday and consume needless calories. 

I think this year, I shall commemorate Chanuka with salad dressing. How authentic!

 

Quiet Resolve

In preparation for the upcoming yontif, I've been listening to a set of CDs by Rabbi Yisroel Reisman on Megillas Rus. We've had them for years, and have played them repeatedly, but he never gets old. 

On the first CD, Rabbi Reisman discusses the debate about the permissibility of a Moabite convert. In the times of Rus, there still wasn't the later clarification that a woman from Moab was permitted to enter into Bnei Yisroel; "Lo yavo Amoni u'Moabi" (D'varim 23:4) was considered, by some, to also apply to the women. 

The megillah, it is said, was written by the prophet Shmuel, who was the contemporary of Rus' descendant, Dovid. Dovid's validity as king was questioned based on Rus being a Moabite; Shmuel established halacha, and sealed Dovid's claim, with this sefer. 

Consider, Rabbi Reisman said: Rus is a Moabite woman, and not only a convert, but a convert without established halacha backing her up. To add insult to injury, according to the commentaries, Boaz died the morning after their wedding. 

 

How often does it happen that when something happens—a natural disaster, an untimely passing, a drop in the economy—people profess to know the reason why? The "reasons" I've heard for the horrific earthquakes in Nepal defy belief and Judaism: We are forbidden from claiming to know what Hashem's motivations are. But we do so anyway. 

Let us play a little game of imagination, shall we? 

There is a new lady in town, lovely, really, but she comes from a background which may be forbidden to enter into the Covenant. Then she has the gall to wed the wealthiest and most prominent man in town. Two strikes. 

He dies the next day. 

What would we be saying?

Not only that, how would she be treated for the rest of her days?

Rus abandoned all she knew and devoted herself to Na'ami, following her instructions without question. But that also meant abandoning acceptance and respect for a life sentence of loneliness and recrimination. She was not vindicated until many, many years later. 

None of us are permitted to cloak ourselves in the robe of judge—for only the Eibishter is the Judge. He granted Boaz extra years just so he could fulfill the mitzvah of yibum with Rus, the most noble of women. 

According to Rabbi David Fohrman, "Eshes Chayil" is a song of praise to her. For she remained firm in her resolve to continue her husband's name, to be a servant of God, to be a comfort to her mother-in-law, while being ostracized and blamed.

Lessons: 

1) None can claim to know God's mind. 

2) No one can mistreat any one.  

3) If you are doing what you know, in your heart of hearts and brain of brains, to be right and true, let none gainsay you.      

Purim Best

When it came to dressing up for Purim when I was a kid, Ma had very specific Hungarian guidelines. 

"You should look pretty," she insisted. 

I was a cowgirl for years (I was happy with that; I had a fake pearl-handled revolver, along with adorable pigtails) until I grew out of my costume. Then, alternately, I was Chinese (thanks to the cheongsam my aunt gave me), a Spanish niña (¡Olé!), and one year a rather dapper male in Luke's outgrown suit and trench coat, my hair tucked into a gray fedora (I was 11, a last huzzah if you will). 

There are so many cultures out there with beautifully garbed females, along with stupendous makeup—women, think twice before climbing into that banana costume! 

No.

Guys, you are included in this one as well, except you must look good, if "pretty" isn't the adjective you seek. (Please don't cross-dress. While that may be cited in some texts, I want to heave when I see a 5 o'clock shadow paired with smeared lipstick).

Instead of wearing the orange coveralls of a convict, or a clownish rainbow wig, or the hot dog getup: Ladies, be lovely and exotic. Men, dashing and handsome.

That's why Esther is such a grand choice for girls; being dressed as a queen is automatically pretty. Especially if one tries to go for the authentic: 

Tiffany Dupont as Queen Esther in "One Night with the King"

Now, for the dudes. Is it just me, but when I consider the most dashing masked man of them all, I come up with: 

Zorro! Zorro! Zorro! 

Even George Hamilton's Gay Blade won me over, in all its farcical glory. 

  

Get my Hungarian drift?

A glamorous Purim to all!   

Yontif Face: Lip Color

As I mentioned beforehand, most long-wearing lipcolors are universally alike in that they are super-drying. While it is hypothetically possible to have lipcolor on for two, sometimes even three days, it won't necessarily look attractive, and your lips will feel naaaaaasty. 

The best long-wearing options, I have discovered, are best found in the drugstore, since the cheap dye used tends to really sink into lips, becoming almost stain-like. 

I have said that it is better to go with a lipstick rather than a longwearing two-ended product like Revlon Colorstay Overtime Lipcolor, since it flakes off painfully and unevenly after exactly 25 hours. A lipstick, at least, will fade off gradually. 

For the first layer, the lipstick in question doesn't have to necessarily be labeled "longwearing." For instance, the best endless lipstick I have ever owned is Max Factor's Vivid Impact Lipcolor in #16, Ms. Understood. It stayed on, with care, for three days. (When Max Factor withdrew its products from the USA, I stocked up via Amazon.)

Another rule of longwearing is that it will usually be darker rather than lighter colors. I'm guessing because of the dye. 

Covergirl Lip Perfection, for instance, has a few shades that bloggers claim stay on like nobody's business: Spellbound 325, Eternal 350, Hot Passion 305, Fairytale 405. But they are all bright, flashy colors. 

As I mentioned last week, I tried out Maybelline's 14 Hour Lipstick, and I really love Perpetual Peony, a pale pink. 

So what I did erev Shavuous was to first apply and blot a few layers of my Max Factor lipstick—about five in total. 

Then, I picked up the Maybelline 14 Hour Lipstick in Perpetual Peony and proceeded to layer that as well, also about five coats worth. The consistency isn't conducive to blotting, but I tried as much as I could. 

The result distinctly tamed down the vivacity of the base color, as well as provide a nourishing "topcoat," if you will, for the super-drying powers of Ms. Understood. 

And boy, was it nourishing, as well as long-lasting! 

I was very careful for all of Shabbos, even drinking the wine and soup with a straw. I ate my cereal with a dessert spoon. I cut every scrap of food to tiny bite sized bits. 

Then, the the first day of Shavuous. Still there, albeit with some flakiness at the part of my lip closest to my teeth. But it wasn't very noticeable. 

Day 2 of Yontif: Holding strong! I became irritated with the flaky bits by the afternoon and picked at them, and they pretty much peeled right off without taking any lip skin with it. My lips were not super-dried out and cracked the way they were the previous yontifs with the Max Factor alone. 

Three day yom tov with lipstick, baby! It can be done!  

I love the color so much that I've started doing this dual-layer shtick for Shabbos. I just don't need as many layers; about two of each.

Keep in mind: You must be very, very careful when it comes to eating and drinking if you intend for the lipcolor to stay on. It's a bonus to help you stay on diet.   

Yontif Eyeshadow

It has become obvious to me that amongst my matte powder eyeshadows, not all are created the equal. For instance, whenever I wear Illamasqua eyeshadow in Incubus over Shabbos, even with shadow primer, it is very possible a good chunk of it will be worn off by morning. 

However, the Stila Matte Mineral Eyeshadow in Sajama (a deep blue-ish gray) that I bought on Ebay lasts pretty much, well, forever with primer. I kid you not—three days of yontif, three days of eyeshadow. It's like a holiday miracle. 

When I initially bought Sajama it had already been discontinued; I had simply done a search for "matte gray eyeshadow," and there it was on Ebay. From what I have read about the other discontinued Stila Mineral Matte shades, such as Nanda Devi (a chocolate brown), they are also amazingly long-wearing. 

Nanda Devi

I'm doing research do find what other colors have great staying power—I have heard that Make Up Forever and Nars eyeshadows last long, but I really can't prove it at the moment. I simply purchased another pan (it doesn't come in a holder) of Sajama.

Sajama

But know this: Sajama is very dark. 

Via karlasugar.net

Sajama is second from the left, and Nanda Devi second from right. Certainly not for those who prefer milder shades. 

I have noticed that darker pigments will last longer than lighter ones. Since I don't mind some makeup drama, that works for me. But for those preferring less intense color, the search may take a while.

(Yes, I know it's not Yontif for a while yet, but this is the time to plan. It's so sad to see frantic women in the drugstore makeup aisle on erev holiday, unsure what will last. I once gave a woman a whole tutorial in front of the Revlon display. Experiment now.) 

Shabbos Face: Indestructible Eyeliner

Having taken care of the initial layer of face by priming and foundation-ing, time to move onto the eyes. 

I start with eyelining first since it is easier to fix any errant traces before eyeshadow is applied.

In order to make powder eyeliner last a really long time (and, my, does it last) I invested in Make Up For Ever Eye Seal. I have discovered that it works best with loose powder, rather than pressed, and the previously mentioned Bare Escentuals Liner Shadow is a great match with it. 

  

Shake or tap a very small amount of liner powder out of the holder into a plastic disposable, like a plastic cup or plate. Drip a drop of the seal onto the liner powder, and quickly mix together with the liner brush, creating a richly colored liquid. Then line the lower eye-lid (not the waterline). 

A dampened q-tip can fix any boo-boos. 

The seal, after it dries, makes the brush bristles rock hard. Before I line, I take a cup (plastic or otherwise; my choice is the enamel cup I use for my paintbrushes) add a little water and soap. I let it soak over Shabbos. Then it's good as new. (Whenever drying brush bristles, run the towel in the direction of the bristles, not against.)

When I use this seal, it won't even wash off on Motzei Shabbos. I have to moisten a q-tip in oil or makeup remover to get it off. I started instead to use it for the two- or three-day yom tov, and man, it lasts all three days. No kidding.