Ellis at 19 Months

Ellis's little quirks that I never want to forget, because they're all so fleeting:

• She loves this book of sounds with farm animals. The farmer is looking for one of his piglets, and everywhere he goes to look for it, he just sees other animals, and you can press the buttons to hear their sounds. Ellis loves it because she knows the names of the animals and the sounds they make, so it makes her feel like she's mastered something. She knows what to expect. She responds in exactly the same way with every reading, which I find so endearing. One page ends with, "Uh oh! One of the pigs is missing!" and she repeats "missing." Just that word out of the whole page, and every time. Then when the farmer checks the barn, there's a barn owl at the top of the page. She squeals and points and says, "Owl!!! Hoo, hoo!" every time, as if she didn't know she'd find it there, despite having just read the book three times. She just gets so excited by owls and elephants, recognizing them everywhere and pointing them out in the smallest of places. Then when the farmer finds the pig, the book says, "There she is! She's resting in the shade of the apple tree," and Ellis says, "yeah!" I die.

• At day care, the staff pat the babies on the backs to help them fall asleep. They say Ellis is one of the ones who needs that, but they start with the youngest/neediest and half the time she's asleep by the time they get to her. Anyway, Ellis has started doing this with dolls and even with us. She pats her stuffed animal on the back and then just walks away when she decides he's asleep. My wife, Nicole, sleeps on the couch many nights because bedsharing makes her very anxious but Ellis goes hysterical at being put in her own space, so she has a setup of sheets and a blanket down there. One of Ellis's games now is to pull the blanket over Nicole, pat her and say "shhhh" with a finger to her lips, and then wake Nicole up. She will push Nicole's face down if Nicole is supposed to be pretending to be asleep but isn't, and she wakes her up pretty roughly when it's time! It's the sweetest thing to see her do these little rituals. She also offers food to her toys and sometimes even lets them nurse with her!

• Ellis's language is astonishing. She's learning multiple new words every day, and has started to pair them together to get a point across: "elephant sticker off," "shoe on," "mama, up." One time she wanted to go outside and had to string together a whole series of words. She started by saying, "Mama, hand," and walking me to the back door. Then, "coat on? shoe on? Door. Door!" This morning she wanted to play with her little Daniel Tiger figurine but couldn't find him. She knew where he was, but I didn't, because I had been working the night before when she played with him with Nicole. She said, "Dannel. Trolley. Dannel trolley. Attairs (upstairs)." She then took the trolley and went to the bottom of the stairs and waited for me. We went up, and sure enough he was next to the bed. Communication does much to ease everyone's frustrations. It's an incredible thing to watch develop! For AGES, she's been saying "na na" to indicate she needs or wants something - food, a toy, help doing something, etc. It was so constant that it was often annoying, and now we can go a whole day without hearing it sometimes. She just has so many words now that she doesn't often need this generic word to get our attention.

• Some of her baby words are evolving, and it's actually a pretty sad loss! For apple, she used to say "bapple," then it became "appool," and now it's just "apple." She says "nan?" for "again" and I dread the day we lose that. It's been with us for so long, and was so refreshing when she was able to say it because it's something she needs to communicate frequently - when she wants a playful move repeated (like playing airplane), hear a song again in the car, read a book again. She says "epplane" for airplane and "effant" for elephant.

• When Ellis asks for a song to be repeated in the car and I say, "Okay," she says back to me, "Okay, baby." It's absolutely hilarious because it's like holding a mirror up to myself. Like oh, I must really say that a lot to her!

• The other day, Nicole was going to get a snack of Lucky Charms, thinking she was being sneaky but she wasn't, not nearly enough. Ellis caught sight of it and went nuts, so Nicole sat on the kitchen floor with her and traded off spoonfuls. Ellis sat right across from her, cross legged and with straight posture, like she was waiting for an organized activity to take place, and just waited patiently for her turn for a spoonful. Then she looked at me and said, "Mama, sit," and patted the floor next to her. I sat down, and she pointed at the cereal, waiting for me to take a spoonful too. I never want to forget that moment, the three of us sitting in a circle cross legged on the kitchen floor, taking turns eating Lucky Charms.

I've waited my whole life for this stage, and now that I'm in a place to better appreciate it, I'm just savoring every morsel. These little games, the interactions, the squeals and giggles, the full body tackle hugs. Her repeating the names of her friends over and over to herself in the stroller, singing to her music, clapping her doll's hands to a song or putting it to bed, saying "mama" and my whole heart just collapses into a puddle as I scoop her up and say "yes, baby?" and feel grateful that it doesn't yet bother her for me to do that.

Adjusting - Our New Normal

Oh how life has changed! If I could have the best of all possible worlds, I would be able to pick Ellis up from day care around 2:00 after her nap each day, and just have more time with her than I do now. But in the absence of that possibility, this is the next best. We are all so happy.

When I first started dropping Ellis at day care, she cried and clung to me a little. She would ask to nurse, presumably for the extra snuggles as well as trying to delay the inevitable. I gave her kisses and told her I would be back later, and then I left to sob on my way to the car.

In just over a week, she was no longer crying at drop-off. She would give a little sad look at me over the staff's shoulder, but she would reach for them as I handed her over, and she didn't cry. In less than a month, she was kicking her legs with excitement to see the other babies she recognizes (10 kids between the ages of 7 months and 2 years) and snuggle into me with a shy smile as a couple of them called her name excitedly.

All the mixed emotions! Mostly I felt (and feel) just so, so happy and relieved. I have seen her reach out for each of the three staff. She feels comforted when they hold her (she doesn't let just anyone hold her) and reacts with giggles and smiles when they get playful with her. She looks forward to seeing the other kids, and it's wild to me to hear them saying, "Ellis!!" and running up to hug her. (Most of the parents are teachers, so they've mostly been there an hour already when she arrives, and she is usually the last to be picked up.) She eats and naps really well for them - the power of routine!

Staff told me that the first couple of weeks, she would occasionally go to the door and fuss and sign to nurse, basically trying to find me or figure out when I would come back. Then she would start to go to the door saying "mama, mama" after other kids would start getting picked up. After a week or two, she didn't blink during the day, and now runs excitedly into my arms and asks to nurse, but then afterward wants me to put her down so she can keep playing! It's like she's excited to have me join her there, but kind of wants me to stay there with her, not take her away. I couldn't want anything more for her than that.

Mondays and Tuesdays I work from 1:00-9:00. We get the whole morning together, and it's amazing. We have music class at 10:30 on Tuesdays, and then Mondays are free for doctor's appointments or little fun activities, like the park or a botanical garden. My wife picks her up after work and we try to have an easy dinner setup for those nights, because I know from experience that nighttime can be so hard on your own, between dinner and bath and bed and feeling exhausted yourself. I try to make it as easy on my wife as I can, such as by setting out her pajamas and diaper and towel on the bed. My wife struggled at first to get her to bed, because Ellis was used to nursing to sleep and would keep crying for me. It took her a couple hours the first few times, until Ellis got used to it. Just like with day care itself, she had to learn what to expect. She soon learned that I would always come back, that she would wake up later in the night and I would be there and she could nurse. She now falls asleep for Nicole much faster than she does for me - this past Tuesday, it took ten minutes!

I'm impressed with Ellis's resiliency as much as my own. I'm kept very busy at work, and it's work that I'm enjoying. Being busy makes it easier, because the day speeds by and then I'm power walking to my car to get to her as fast as possible, and that reunion feels soooo good. Weekends and days off are like total treasures. I have so much more patience when she is fussy or clingy, because there is too much time where I'm not around to indulge that. I'm more attentive, more involved, more hands on. Less "biding the time" and more being fully present with her. She gets nurturing and attention and free play and reading and crafting during the day, and then she goes back to a mama with endless affection and doting and attention. I feel more exhausted in a lot of ways, working full-time and not getting to then come home and kick my feet up with Netflix like I used to before I was a parent, but I also feel more re-energized in others.

I have occasional guilt, which I try to work on even as I try to accept that it's normal and the maternal condition, whether employed outside the home or not. As explained on an episode of my favorite podcast One Bad Mother, we're all exhausted and fighting guilt and trying to find time. That's mothering, no matter what our differences.

We couldn't afford for me to stay home full-time. There weren't enough corners to cut to make up what we would lack once our renter inevitably moves out. (We've had a roommate, a close friend, for the past almost year, and she will be here probably another six months.) We were struggling even with that income, and without it, forget it. But the guilt comes in as far as the fact that I'm happy with this lifestyle, that it's not "just" because I "have to," but rather a family routine and situation that feels very comfortable and fulfilling. I miss Ellis every day, but I feel so lucky I got her first year home. I'm so grateful that I witnessed her first major milestones, and that I was there for round the clock one-on-one care that she couldn't have gotten in a day care setting. Not everyone has that luxury, and I may not a second time around. I'm so glad that she's there at an age where she can run around screeching with her little friends, play outside, do simple crafts. And I'm glad I get to enjoy a career that I love, where I feel helpful to people and have already seen rewarding outcomes with work I've done with clients, and which afford us the ability to breathe when it comes to basic necessities, and also a little bit extra.

We've adjusted and we've got a good thing going for ourselves. We're doing a good job with this family thing.

Back to Work

The day has finally come. Our goal was for me to be home Ellis's first year, and we made that. She is 14 and a half months, and I start my full-time job on Monday.

I'm so emotional. I was in denial for so long, until I went to visit the office and sign some documents. HR had said the earliest I would be able to start was the second week of August, due to all the clearances they would need. I told myself that organizations tend to be a bit chaotic, so it would probably be the third week, and since I would be going on vacation the week after that, maybe I could tell them that because of childcare, I couldn't start until after Labor Day. I chose the latest possible fingerprinting appointment, and stalled on bringing in my marriage certificate (they wanted it to prove my change of name since my diploma is in my maiden name, and asked that I bring it within a week; I waited exactly a week). Despite all this, when I went to visit the office, my new supervisor said he had already scheduled a client to see me on August 8, in case I wanted to come in for a day or two the week before to get acquainted before jumping in. That made it really real that I would be starting in A WEEK, and I cried the whole way home, and then off and on for several hours afterward.

It finally hit me, and I felt all the emotions. Anxiety and insecurity about the job weren't even at the forefront. It was all about leaving Ellis. Devastation at being separated from her so soon. Disappointment at all the things we would miss out on now that she's old enough to do more. Guilt and sadness at leaving her with other people the majority of her day and just getting her in time for dinner and bedtime routine. I wanted this baby SO BADLY, and tried so hard for her, and now I'm handing her over to someone else for most of her good hours, for most of her early life?? It feels so unnatural!

And then I remind myself that I've been relishing our time together in a way that isn't sustainable. We got a cleaning lady a few months ago, which has been critical to marital harmony. But I was using babysitting money to pay for this service, and we can't keep her if I'm not bringing in income. There is no room for it in our budget otherwise. And before we finally broke down and hired her, we spent most of a year fighting over cleaning. Ellis is high needs and clingy, crying and grabbing at my legs just while I make breakfast in the mornings. Cleaning has been next to impossible. I also just suck at it, to be honest. I can't keep a schedule, and I spend every day feeling guilty about all the things I SHOULD be doing and postponing them to the next day.

I remind myself that it's summer, and it's easy to be sentimental when we can be outside all day every day. Ellis is SO happy outside. I remind myself of what winter was like, feeling stir crazy and yet not knowing what to do with her in the cold. Dreading bundling us both up just to, what, go to the mall again? Another library? If I'm not working, we can't afford regular trips to children's museums and play spaces. We can't afford classes or groups. I felt a rock in my stomach every Sunday evening at the emptiness of the week ahead, not knowing what to do with her every day. I started to write out a schedule so I wouldn't go crazy, and some days it was just "dry cleaning and grocery shopping" and I didn't know what to do with the rest of that day. It's easy to forget that right now when I can just sit outside with her in the sunshine all day or go to the pool.

I remind myself that the grass is always greener. That with no change on the horizon, I sometimes felt an existential panic. That it's only with a deadline, an end in sight, that I'm panicking and appreciating every second. Living like I was dying, as the song goes. I don't care if I use a ton of gas driving to all the new parks and places. I don't care if I charge lunches on my credit card while we're out. It doesn't matter because soon our time is over. If it WEREN'T soon over, I would still have that Sunday evening knot in my stomach about how to fill our days, ALL THOSE HOURS, in the upcoming week. It's the deadline that's making every moment so precious. That's just the truth.

The reality of staying home with Ellis would include a lot of things that I spent a full year trying and failing to do. I wouldn't be able to afford to take Ellis places (not many free indoor places in the winter, and I really struggled with cabin fever last year) and would have to be really on top of housekeeping, which I kept telling myself I would get better at and just couldn't seem to. It just wasn't a lifestyle that was working for us. I'm going to miss my baby terribly, but I need to stop feeling anxious about my shortcomings and create a new normal that works better for our family and makes us all as happy as possible.

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The above was begun the weekend before starting my job, and I didn't have time to finish it, as so often happens when I try to sit down and write. Ellis is not a good sleeper, and I'm lucky if I clean up the kitchen and her toys and sit down with a snack and TV for an hour or two before she's up and I just go to bed for the night.

But now it's Friday of my first week at work. So the rest of my thoughts and feelings that were in anticipation are lost now, but I can write from a different place.

WE MADE IT.

Choosing a day care was tough, but I found a great spot walking distance from home. It's a licensed family group day care, a smaller and more intimate setting than day care centers. A space will open up after Labor Day, but she spent two days there while I was at new hire appointments, and she did so well. She had a blast with the other kids and the toys, she ate well, she napped well. This reduced my anxiety so much. She cried when I returned and clung to me nursing for a few minutes, but then wanted back down to play. She would just check periodically that I was still there and come back for a quick nuzzle occasionally.

We're piecing together childcare until September, and this week she went with my mother-in-law. I work 1-9 Mondays and Tuesdays, so I got a half day with her before dropping her off, which I loved. However, it made me feel BEYOND exhausted at the end of the day because I felt like I had a pretty full day of parenting, a full day of work, and then no time to unwind before bed and doing it all over again. But it was worth it to have two half days less of her being in someone else's care, and to have that extra time together. My wife put her to bed those evenings. She was in charge of the whole nighttime routine, which I know from experience is difficult by yourself. When Nicole would have late meetings in the city, I dreaded the evening, even though I was alone with Ellis all day just fine! Evening is just so much tougher on your own, between dinner and bath and bedtime. We have a good team routine set up.

Ellis had a tough time falling asleep without her usual routine, but the second night was already much better than the first. Nicole was a trooper, really coming through to help make our family's new life work. She just carried her straight to our bed (usually she spends her first few hours in the crib and we bring her in after the first or second wakeup so that everyone gets more sleep), and I came home and curled up next to her.  At her next wakeup, she couldn't believe I was there, and waved at me as she sleepily latched on and closed her eyes. It was just what we both needed. Bedsharing has become an incredible source of connection for us after a day apart, and I don't want to give it up anytime soon.

The 9-5 days were much easier, even though it meant a full day of babysitting for Ellis. I had so much more energy at work and got to enjoy our regular evenings at home as a family - because though I get Monday and Tuesday mornings with Ellis, I don't see Nicole really on those days.

On Monday, I dropped her off at my mother-in-law's and she had a really hard time. She was fine 20 seconds after I left, but that leaving is HARD and probably always will be. When I came home, she smiled at me and hugged me gleefully before asking to nurse. She then clung to me the rest of the time we spent there. Tuesday, she clung a little less. She did frequent check-ins, but wanted to play. Wednesday and Thursday, she was so secure that I could cry. She walked around the whole house, going into rooms where we weren't. She didn't think I was going to leave again, because I haven't been. She's observing the routine of our days now. She knows we'll spend a little time there, and then go home together. My mother-in-law said Ellis doesn't let her out of her sight during the day, wanting to be underfoot if my mother-in-law is trying to do a task, which is also how she's always been at home with me but not really with others. She transfers that right to my mother-in-law when I leave. But when we're both there, she's just so free.

I like our new normal. I'm enjoying my job and it keeps me busy enough that I don't just sit tearfully at my desk like I thought I would. It also helps knowing she's safe and loved and having a blast. The only thing I wish I could change is the amount of time. I do hate that it's time for dinner, bath, and bed when I get home. I wish I could be home by 2 or 3 and still have some playtime. But I'm grateful for the two full mornings a week we have to still go to music group and do other things together.

It's also hard to miss some things. I'm so lucky that I was home over a year and got all those major milestones. I'm beyond grateful. But in just a few days, she's already walking so differently! She has so much space at my mother-in-law's, and there's also a dog there she likes to chase and play with, so she's just had so much free practice. I came to get her Thursday and she was racing around like it was nothing. I wanted to cry thinking how that progress just happened and I wasn't there. I don't know how much I would have noticed it if I was there, it's the absence that makes it so obvious, but that makes me feel like I was gone for such a long time and missed so much!

Last weekend when I was getting emotional about going to work, I thought a few times, "This is just so unnatural! To hand over our small, developing children to someone else to take care of for the majority of their day." I knew that it was necessary for us. I knew that it was necessary for ME in so many ways. And I knew that non-primary caregivers have to work and aren't expected to feel that same strain. Nicole went back to work two weeks after Ellis was born. She's ONLY gotten evenings, weekends, holidays, and vacations with Ellis practically since birth! But it's not expected that that should feel so unnatural for her. It's just how life works. You gotta work to live. But at least she knew Ellis was home with me, and it would be easier on me too if I knew she was home with Nicole instead of in day care. There is so much great about this that makes me know rationally it's the right choice for us, and that Ellis will not only be fine, but thrive. But it does not come without serious emotional conflict.

The silver lining is I don't feel anxious about a single second with her anymore. I don't feel bored and then guilty about feeling bored. I don't feel antsy. Every hour is precious. I've been working since I was 15 years old, and having a routine and living for the weekends and holidays and vacations is comforting.

WE MADE IT. And we'll continue making it. Our family is healthy and whole and adaptable and solidly bonded. We're making it through life together, and it feels wonderful.

Settling into Our Traditions

This is the second holiday season since I converted, and the third since we stopped celebrating Christmas in our own household. The first Christmas, before my conversion and when I had just begun my Intro to Judaism classes, was made underwhelming just by circumstance; we had just moved into our house in early December and life was too chaotic to get a Christmas tree and to find our boxes of decorations. We realized it wasn’t so bad and we didn’t miss it so much because we had enough of it in the rest of the world, and that helped us the next year when we skipped celebrating much more intentionally.

Last year was the first year we deliberately did not get a Christmas tree or Christmas gifts for each other, and I had to grapple with the question of how we create our own traditions and what traditions we can share with family, which traditions we want to try to keep consistent from year to year and which will be flexible depending on whose family we can be with. I feel a little more grounded in that this year, but also still open to changes. Basically we are creating our own Hanukkah traditions and letting Christmas be more open since it’s not our holiday, but our families’ which we participate in secondarily. Some years we may go to my in-laws’ for the traditional Christmas morning bagels and gift exchange; other times, like this year, we won’t go over til mid-afternoon when the other siblings are going over there, and we will have dinner together. Some years we will travel south to visit my parents since our child will be out of school for winter break. I’m not worried anymore about “confusing” our child with whatever happens that day in whichever family member’s home; I feel confident in and comfortable with what we have begun setting up, and grateful for all the love and culture-sharing among family that our child will get to be surrounded by.

Nicole’s brother and his wife, who will raise their children Catholic, will continue coming over to our house for the Passover seder every year. That will be in their kids’ memories, and yet their kids won’t be confused about whether they are Jewish or Catholic. They will know they are coming over to celebrate our holiday with us since we are family. Likewise, our child will not wake up to a Christmas tree and piles of presents on Christmas or have anything else happening at home or within our family that makes them think they are Christian, but they will have memories of how they spend Christmas with their extended family. They will certainly look forward to having dinner with relatives and exchanging some gifts with them. And they might even find the sparkly attraction of Christmas more appealing than Hanukkah. I would be naive if I didn't expect that. Despite its crucially important message about preserving our faith and culture against all pressure and threats, Hanukkah is a minor holiday in the Jewish calendar, and I don't want for us to blow it further out of proportion than it already is in a misguided effort to compete with Christmas. We have our own major holidays, and our child's sense of how being Jewish is honored and celebrated and observed comes from an entire year of rituals, not just this one holiday that may be culturally overshadowed by Christmas (and not without reason - the birth of a savior is understandably a bigger deal; there is not even anything temple-based in the observance of Hanukkah). 

But at Christmas, we will have just recently finished our holiday of light, telling the story of Hanukkah and remembering the importance of maintaining culture and resisting total assimilation. We will have our newly created tradition of having a Hanukkah dinner on the weekend - how nice that there is always a weekend since it’s an 8-day holiday! We will give our child a gift every night, some much smaller than others, and we will also spend that time as a family around the menorah each night, talking and reading and playing games as the candles burn low. We will make latkes on the weekend. We will donate the tzedakah (charity) we’ve been saving all year. We will go to that week’s Shabbat service and watch the big menorah be lit and sing Hanukkah songs with our community. We will attend the synagogue’s family Hanukkah party. And within days or weeks of that festivity coming to an end, we will continue enjoying the larger culture around us - the prettiness of our neighbors’ Christmas lights, the music and decorations in stores and friends’ homes, the Christmas cards that come pouring in from loved ones. We will enjoy it as many non-Jewish people enjoy driving and walking through Williamsburg Brooklyn in the fall to see the sukkahs set up outside Orthodox homes, or as Westerners enjoy going through Chinatown during the hugely celebrated and brightly decorative Chinese New Year.

We are a pluralistic society, and I love that. As much as I love Israel and look forward to traveling there someday, and as much as I think it must also be nice to have most people around you joining in your celebrations, I wouldn’t want to be separated from other cultures. I have always loved learning about and participating in other cultures, while not appropriating them as my own.

Winter is a dark, dreary time, and it’s beautiful that several cultures have festivals of light and giving and family and celebration for us to look forward to and to keep us going until the days begin lengthening again. 

I've Been Published!!

My favorite Jewish parenting site, Kveller.com, which I peruse daily, just published my recent post. I edited it down to make it more publicly appropriate (such as by taking out names and a few distracted sidebars) and asked them if they'd be interested, and they were! They had actually seen my blog and asked me to write something for them several months ago.

They'd requested a piece following my initial consultation at the clinic, but once that appointment happened and the outcome was my crying as I realized I'd need surgery, I didn't feel so motivated to write something. Then after my recent post, entitled "Calm Before the Storm," I thought it might be something most parents-to-be could relate to, so I offered it up. They wanted it and brought me on as a freelance writer for the site, which I'm super stoked about. I've never written for anyone but myself, school, or work before!

I was asked that going forward, since posts are supposed to be exclusively for them and not previously published, I post just a few paragraphs here and then link to the actual article. So if you see that for anything going forward, that's why! Now I'll just have to determine what might be of Kveller interest versus subjects that should just be for my personal blog.

Here's my first piece! (Yes, they changed the title to something slightly more awkward sounding in order to make sure it's obvious to those seeking lgbt-specific topics.)


http://www.kveller.com/blog/parenting/the-calm-before-the-same-sex-parenting-storm/

My First Hanukkah - Creating Our Own Traditions

Last year at Hanukkah, we were in the middle of our Intro to Judaism course to study for my conversion and had just moved into our house, so our Hanukkah celebration was a little slapdash. We gave each other a few presents all on the first night, and we lit the electric menorah that my parents had given us, placing it in our sunporch window at the front of the house. That was pretty much it.

This year we made sure to get each other eight gifts and are only opening one per night. We have more decorations around the house that we bought on clearance for 90% off last year after the holiday - a little sign, two sets of dreidels, a crystal dreidel for our dining room table, dish towels, and two menorahs. We used the book our rabbi gave us that has blessings for home rituals to say the blessings for lighting the menorah.

My family is infamous for the quirky things we make into traditions. Everyone has traditions, of course, but we can be very ritualistic about the most arbitrary of things. Like the recent development in the past decade of a tradition of having a Krispy Kreme donut on Halloween morning - where did that come from and how did it become a thing?? It's one of the things I love about us, and Nicole is very patient and flexible (and sometimes amused). Since Hanukkah is new for me, the creation of traditions were just sort of tumbling out as we went along with whatever seemed "right" to me. So here is what we have already set into motion after just one season - and actually, just two days so far of one season!

We light the menorah and say the blessings. Then we put the next bulb into the electric menorah. Then we sit at the table and have "family time" until the candles have burned out, approximately an hour or less. This family time can include exchanging a gift, eating dinner, reading together, talking, anything. But we stay around the table. A gift cannot be exchanged until the menorah is lit, signifying that the next night of Hanukkah has begun. You can pick which gift you'd like to open from your pile, unless the giver has a reason to ask you to open a specific one that evening.

I am loving Hannukah rituals. I love that it lasts for EIGHT DAYS. It helps it not to be so anticlimactic. For eight days we get to light our beautiful menorah and exchange a gift and celebrate. It's not over too soon. I also love exchanging one gift at a time. I feel like it gives us a whole day to really enjoy that item and revel in it rather than having something get lost in the pile. Tonight Nicole gave me a lush bathrobe, and I will cherish it all day tomorrow while I eagerly anticipate the next gift. Oh glorious torment! I looove dragging it out like this.

Nicole does not love the torment quite as much as I do! She misses waking up to a pile of presents. She misses getting everything at once, and dragging it out day by day is less enjoyable to her than it is to me. We have always been different in that sense - I love the anticipation of a happy thing or event and it kills Nicole to wait! But even as she misses this, her eyes light up as we kindle the menorah and she joins me in the blessings without me having to ask her or give up trying. It warms my heart to watch her love of Jewish traditions grow as we go through the year. I just have to meet her halfway on this to help ease the tension for her. Like tonight we had Thanksgiving dinner at her parents' house, and as soon as it got dark (which was like 4:30!) she was antsy to get home and open another present. We lit our menorah there and I told her that as soon as it had burned out, we could go home. Once she knew what to expect, she was fine and relaxed and enjoyed the family time until it was time to go. I just had to keep my promise.

Nicole's mom said she hadn't realized Hanukkah was coming so soon and said that she had to get better about that and have a gift for us. I told her that we are happy to celebrate Hanukkah within our little household, and that we are fine with having our families exchange gifts on Christmas which is their holiday. I said that our kids will grow up knowing their extended families on both sides celebrate Christmas, and we are okay with them being included in that. We are secure enough in how we are creating a Jewish home that we can allow them to celebrate our families' holidays with them. Similarly, Nicole's brother and his fiancee, neither of whom identify as Jewish, come to our house for Rosh Hashanah dinner - they don't observe the holiday as a New Year for themselves and won't with their kids, but they come to celebrate OUR holiday with US, because it's about coming together as family with what's important to us. If my parents lived here, they'd be coming over for dinner too! It's the family togetherness that matters, and I'm about building connection and inclusion, not barriers.

Speaking of "Thanksgivukkah," I made latkes for the first time this year (and yes, said a "Shehechiyanu" at the stovetop!). Nicole has made latkes all her life, so it was very meaningful for me to be able to join in that tradition. It also helped me in a subtle way to bring Hanukkah into our Thanksgiving dinner since I knew it would otherwise by overshadowed. I used a recipe I found online for sweet potato latkes with homemade cranberry applesauce, and they were delicious! Nicole doesn't eat sweet potatoes and ate at least four of these. They were praised and quickly devoured by Jew and non-Jew alike, and I was so, so happy.

Yes, I am nostalgic for some of what I left behind. Of course I am. But I am so happy and fulfilled by what we are creating together!

Life Updates

1. Last Friday night, Deborah Feldman, author of Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of my Hasidic Roots, came to speak at our Shabbat service. First of all, just HOW FREAKIN' AWESOME to have a bestselling author come to our humble synagogue and spend time with us. She is a natural storyteller, so her speech was riveting, and then she wrapped it up in a decent amount of time so she could take questions and engage with the congregation's curiosity. She signed books at the oneg (shockingly few of us had actually brought the book to be signed) and we got to have a little chat there too. I told her that coming from the South, Judaism itself had been quite a mystery to me, and even now after my conversion, the ultra-Orthodox world she came from was completely foreign and shocking. (Ultra-Orthodox sects, contrary to what one might assume, did not actually exist until fairly recently...it came about as a response to the Holocaust, for Jews who believed that was a punishment for assimilation and felt they needed to make themselves stand out isolated from the world far more than they were.) Deborah said, "You left the land of barbecue to come here?? Please tell me you can still have pork ribs!"

Rabbi on the left, Deborah Feldman on the right

2. Last Sunday was the New York City Marathon, and my brother-in-law's fiancee ran in it. She was never an athlete and just took up running about two years ago after she got out of law school and before she found a job. Talk about inspiring. Nicole and I grumbled privately to each other for a while about having to go into Manhattan on such a crazy day, but we ended up having a great time. It's such a different feel from, say, a parade. Participants are working so hard and the spectators are there to support and cheer on, not to be entertained. We gathered at two different spots to see her pass by, and then we were meeting up with her friends and family at a bar afterward where my brother-in-law had rented out a little loft area for the group.

Watching the race was unexpectedly emotional for me. Seeing two different blind runners who held a rope circle with another runner to keep in line, people running on blades (the prosthetic limbs designed for athletics), people from all over the globe, a woman bursting into tears of exhaustion as soon as her partner stepped out to hug her at Mile 23 so then he ran alongside her for the last three miles.

Between our second spotting and the time we would all be meeting at the bar, there was over an hour to kill. And as we turned to walk with everyone, we realized we had been standing right in front of the Jewish Museum the whole time. I have been wanting to see the Chagall exhibit that leaves in February and figured, like always, we would never end up making it in to see it. We're both such homebodies and it takes a lot for us to commit to spending a day in the city, and the museum is not in a location convenient at all to Penn Station even, which makes it require extra motivation. So we looked at each other and lit up and both said alternately, "Really? Do you really want to? Can we? Is it okay?" Meanwhile my brother-in-law was encouraging us to go. He was so grateful that we had all come out to support his fiancee and wanted us to get out of the cold and do something we'd enjoy while we were there. We didn't have to be told twice.

The Chagall exhibit was awesome. He was a Soviet artist who moved to France and then to the US right before the war, so he had a lot of guilt and distress around what was happening to his fellow Jews back in Europe during the Shoah. I'm not even close to what one would call "cultured" or "a sophisticate," and I could appreciate the very obvious change in his works from before the war to during the war. They got much darker, lots of black and red and sad images. It was fascinating. Then on top of this, we got to see the rest of the museum where we'd never been. An intimate and quiet spontaneous date in the middle of a packed, crowded, and loud day.

3.  I'm super excited about "Thanksgivukah," the very rare, less-than-once-in-a-lifetime coinciding of Thanksgiving and Chanukah. I've already found a pumpkin latke recipe for the combined Thanksgiving/Chanukah dinner. The Jewish world is lit up with excitement and creative ideas over this holiday combination, and it's such a fun energy. But I have one minor issue - I don't know how to decorate!! It already feels strange sending holiday cards before Thanksgiving, but when to change out the orange and brown leaf-themed kitchen towels for the blue and white Chanukah towels is causing me more than a minimal amount of distress. We have a little box that looks like a miniature crate and says "Apples, 50 cents" on it that we use for our napkins and salt and pepper shakers on the dining room table. It's perfect for fall and Thanksgiving. But then we have a nice blue basket with white snowflakes and silver tinsel that would be perfect for the same purpose for Chanukah. When do I trade them out??

This is the fatal conflict: I hate decorating for one holiday before the preceding one is over, and I love decorating far in advance for each holiday so I have time to enjoy the decor. So what to do you do when they happen at the same time??

Our rabbi offered to come over and help us put up our mezuzahs, BLOWING MY MIND as to the role Jewish clergy can play in your life....this is beyond incredible of her and I'm excited out of my mind. This is next Saturday and because I'm ridiculously psyched for it, and because she won't exactly be a frequent visitor to our home, I want everything to be perfect. We've been toying with a date for a couple of months, and I had been very excited about cutesying my house up with fall decor...til we finally confirmed a date that is only two weeks before Chanukah, and now I want her to see our Chanukah decor! But while Chanukah colors fitting a winter theme is normally perfect, it's definitely not while we're not even at Thanksgiving yet.

Yes, I could put both baskets out, both sets of kitchen towels. But boy do they clash, and it goes against the perfectionist in my brain (who only makes rare appearances but this is most definitely one of them).

Chanukat

Opening Our Home

After much deliberation, we decided to take in international students through a program at the college where my mother-in-law works (Nicole's own alma mater). My mother-in-law took in international students through this program for about two years, and has been on hiatus for about the last year. We held off on this conversation for the few months that we were renting out a room to Nicole's friend's girlfriend, and we started talking about it again soon after she moved out in June.

We have two spare bedrooms. One is set up with a twin cot, desk, and chest of drawers, and the other is a guest room with a full bed and a dresser. We figured we could have a student in the room with the desk, and still have a guest room for ourselves. However, after the homestudy when the reviewer saw our setup and the space we have, she gently pushed us to consider taking a second student because they don't have enough homes for male students. She promised it would just be for a month (on average, they stay anywhere from one to three months) because he hoped to find a longer-term living situation and stay in the area for school after he passes the English proficiency exam. We reluctantly agreed, figuring what was feeding four mouths instead of three, for twice the pay? So we gave up our guest room "just for a month" and set up a little folding chair and table for his laptop.

The students arrived yesterday, both from China, and it was at once completely awkwardly uncomfortable and so much FUN. The student who is only slated to stay a month is more comfortable with English than the other student, and it ends up they speak the same language so he helps the other. Having two students was the best thing we could do - they have each other to do things with and talk to outside of family dinner time. And Nicole and I are enjoying the challenge of forced parenthood  to young 20-somethings: setting explicit rules, putting up a shower schedule on the bathroom door, planning meals in advance and making sure they're taken care of if we're ever out. It's kind of fun! (It's also fun watching them get used to new and unfamiliar American things, like zucchini! And to hear the one less comfortable in English coo "Hi, Jackieeee" to our cat as he goes upstairs, like he always hears us do. Adorable.)

At the same time, we happen to have two Australian friends of Nicole's staying with us for about five weeks (three more to go). They were only supposed to stay with us for a week or less while they adventure in the Northeast before going to an October wedding in Ohio. However, they had an enormous financial setback right before their trip but already had their airfare and didn't want to cancel the entire trip. So they asked if they could stay with us the entire time since they wouldn't have money to stay in hotels in other cities.

I admit that we did not have a warm, gracious, open welcome in our hearts immediately. We made sure to in our actions, but we struggled with adapting to having two other people in the home all the time, especially since their styles of living are not the same as ours. We let ourselves feel frustrated and impatient and irritable, though we kept smiles on, and we felt guilty about it. But it's a classic concept in psychology that, contrary to common belief in the opposite, changing behavior changes attitude. "Fake it til you make it" is very real and backed by science. And soon we were enjoying having them around and it was suddenly very fulfilling that we were helping them out.

So our quiet little family of two is, for the moment, a house of six. As we watch the boys scarf down our home cooking with great expressions of gratitude, as the Australians offer to cook chili con carne one night and one of the boys asks if he can cook us a Chinese meal another night, as we ask them about their day and speak clearly and slowly using simple words to help them practice their English, I feel a fullness and happiness in my heart. Right now, today, this is our family, and the fullness of our house brings me such joy.

This hospitality, our open door and open arms and open hearts and full table, makes me feel more Jewish even than any of my beloved Shabbat services ever could.

The Big 3-0

(I wrote this the day after my birthday and neglected to actually post it - so it is from almost two weeks ago.)

Yesterday was my 30th birthday. I am not the person who complains about getting older every year. On the contrary, I always thank God for blessing me with another year of life. When I was in my early twenties, a fellow camp counselor, who had just gotten engaged and was sweet and full of joy and life and kindness, was killed at the age of 22 by a drunk driver. It completely shook me up, and I have not been ungrateful for any birthdays since (and honestly wasn’t before, either, just because I was very young and wasn’t feeling age).

Now, all I feel is a little bit of restlessness with goals that may not have been achieved, or things I thought would be happening by a certain age that aren’t. I think this year’s is obvious, and having a milestone birthday really makes it sink in. I think young women set high standards for what 30 should be – what should have been accomplished, and what we expect our thirties to look like. I had wanted to have my first child at 30, and a year or so ago, settled for being pregnant 30. Now I would settle even for being able to say we are TRYING to get pregnant at 30. But we aren’t there.

I won’t go further into that because I want to stay focused on my gratitude, both for life and for the people in my life who made me feel so, so loved this year.

I was pretty disappointed initially, because the two things I really wanted for my birthday wouldn’t be happening. The first was ziplining. It’s on my “bucket list” and I had tried to arrange for a group of my friends to go on Saturday, but it didn’t work out. Everyone had other commitments such as planned vacations. It took a lot of work to try to coordinate it amongst everyone, and then to be the only one who booked was upsetting. I had to cancel my reservation and we all agreed to try again at the end of the summer, but obviously it wouldn’t be happening my birthday weekend.

The second was going to see the play Once. I’ve been dying to see it, and we never go to shows just because it’s not in our budget while we are always saving money for The Next Big Thing (wedding, house, now babies). I had been set on this for months. However, tickets were far more expensive than we had anticipated and we just felt we shouldn’t spend on that right now. For the short amount of time between that and Nicole coming up with another idea, I just felt so disappointed and let down. I admit I had a miniature pity party. But my birthday ended up being so, so wonderful.

Nicole booked an excursion for us in Juneau, which was the one town that no one in our family had booked anything. She then invited the rest of my family if they chose, while understanding they may not want to spend the money to go. My parents agreed to accompany us almost immediately, and my sister and brother-in-law decided to minutes before the excursion. It was SO much fun having all of us together. We went to a salmon hatchery, Mendenhall Glacier, and a salmon bake, and it was an absolute blast. I felt so loved that they would all come on an excursion that they would not otherwise have done.

Back in Seattle after the cruise, my parents took Nicole and me to lunch at the top of the Space Needle. The restaurant rotates sloooowly so that you get to see the entire Seattle landscape during your meal. It was so beautiful. Because it rotates, some people leave notes on the sill which doesn’t move so that others will find them. Unbeknownst to me, my mother had put a note there saying they were from SC and were taking their daughter from NYC out to lunch for her 30th birthday. When I found the note, there was a “Happy Birthday” wish from someone in another state. By the end of the meal when we retrieved it, there were two more messages, one from Australia and one from Copenhagen, Denmark. So cool!

The Sunday before my birthday, our friend C took us on a picnic at the Nassau County Art Museum’s grounds, which were gorgeous and empty due to construction that week inside the museum. We had tuna salad, chicken salad, watermelon, cherries, grape leaves, and lemonade. C also brought a mini cake that was made in a Montauk bakery and had only whole ingredients in it. After lunch, we went to the Queens County Museum, where C bought me a cute gardening mug and a pail of alfalfa to feed the alpacas, sheep, and goats. Llamas and alpacas are my favorite animal and it did my soul good to pet and feed one.

Sunday evening, Nicole took me to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant that is only a block from our house. On Saturday, I had asked if we could go over to her parents’ for dinner the next night because I like being around them for my birthday. Apparently she had already planned our dinner out, so she called them last-minute and asked if they would join us. Her parents, sister, and sister’s boyfriend were able to go. They gave me gift cards for Starbucks and Amazon and paid for the meal. So sweet of them.

Monday, my actual birthday, my coworkers had lunch with me (including a co-supervisor who was on vacation and came in just for this) and Allyson baked me a lemon raspberry cake from scratch. My best friend N sent flowers to the office for me. That evening, my friend C was driving down to pick up another friend on their way to Florida and stopped in to have frozen yogurt at Red Mango with us, which she treated.

Next week when we get out early the day before July 4th, N is taking me to a movie and dinner. Then later in the month, another friend J is taking me to the movies. (See a pattern here? Movies are my favorite thing and something my wife can’t do as it makes her motion sick.)

I feel so loved and spoiled.

Our "Last Hurrah" (as my wife has named it)

For my parents' 35th wedding anniversary, our entire family (three of us "kids" and our spouses) went on a cruise to Alaska. This has been spoken about and planned for close to two years, and booked for over a year. Nicole and I spent a few days in Seattle on our own before the cruise, and then we had a full week of fun and relaxation with my family. It was amazing, and I could have journaled a full entry every day if I'd had access to Blogger. I did bring a hard journal, but ended up using it more for written prayers in the form of letters to God. Totally unplanned but was a perfect and natural way to express my appreciation of all that was around me, and considering it is my most comfortable form of expression, I'm surprised I haven't done this sooner.

But I digress. Since I did not journal while I was away, I need to keep this to a normal length, and will try to do so by just bullet-pointing the highlights for me to cherish further down the road.

• The Inn at the Market - We splurged on two nights at this sweet inn right in the thick of Pike Place Market. We used the beautiful rooftop patio overlooking Puget Sound so many times in those couple of days, and almost always had it to ourselves.
• Seattle Aquarium - It hung over the sound, used fresh water directly from the sound for its exhibits, and had wave pools for fish to mimic what they're used to in shallow waters.
• Shabbat service in Seattle, and Shabbat non-service on the ship - I will have to do a separate post for this! I love, love, love making field trips to other synagogues, and travel is the perfect opportunity since we are torn from our beloved home temple anyway.
• Spending laidback, quality bonding time with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, and likewise having us kids watch our spouses bond and interact. Irreplaceable.
• Being served hot toddies in our room to enjoy under blankets on our balcony while we watched the calving of glaciers right before our very eyes and heard the thunder of their crash into the ocean.
• Taking a train through the mountains to a snow-capped peak, winding our way on a track that would be far too dangerous for roads and cars, feeling totally enveloped by the pristine Alaskan wilderness.
• Seeing humpback whales breaching while we were at breakfast.
• The abundance of bald eagles in their natural habitat, perched on pilings and icebergs.
• Mendenhall Glacier - WOW.
• Nicole taking me on an excursion to a salmon bake as an early birthday present, and being accompanied by my parents, sister, and brother-in-law as well. Eating fresh-caught wild Alaskan salmon cooked over an alderwood fire and then toasting marshmallows in the rain.
• 11:08 PM sunset and 3:53 AM sunrise
• Floating in Lake Union on a duck tour in Seattle, with a view of the Space Needle, houseboats, kayakers, and a seaplane taking off.
• Dinner at the top of the Space Needle with my wife and parents as an early birthday celebration while we could all be together. Rotating around in the restaurant and finding a note my mom had planted on the stationary sill which now held birthday greetings from tourists from Copenhagen and Australia.
• Sunshiney days in Seattle while it thunderstormed back in NYC.

Thankful that I didn't keep a regular journal while I was there...there would be a heck of a lot of transcription going on right now. These highlights will have to do. And since a picture is worth 1000 words...

Circle of Life

Just last week, I basked in happiness as I watched a female cardinal take a bath in our sprinkler the first day that I watered our newly seeded patches of lawn. She fluffed and preened and shook and was just so enjoying herself from atop our fence in the spray of water that my heart was overfilled with happiness and gratitude.

This morning we came back from temple to a dead baby bird in our driveway. She was perfectly intact and it must have just happened because there were no bugs around her and they just started coming in the time it took us to dig a hole for her burial. She was on her back with her head back, as if she had fallen and her neck had broken. She looked too little to be out of her nest, and I didn't see the nest anywhere. She was so beautiful, every tiny perfect detail of her, and I scooped her onto my trowel and buried her beneath a hedge.

Then I took advantage of the sun between two major rain showers (one of which had made gorgeous music on the roof of the sanctuary) to transfer my seedlings from their cups to the ground. I still felt so sad about the bird, but had to transfer that energy into nurturing new life, life that will help sustain us.

There was too much nature happening in my own backyard today. Beautiful and sad and overwhelming.

Being such an emotional person feels like a curse almost as often as it feels like a gift.

Growing Life (in our garden)

My parents are visiting from South Carolina this week. We timed this trip for spring so that Dad could help us with the yard, and they drove so that they could bring tools and machines to help. They also used this opportunity to bring up things of mine that were stored there since I'm in a house now. The most special item to me is the antebellum cradle, circa 1837, which my grandmother brought home from her antique shop when my mother was born, and which all three of us slept in as well. It is now in my basement, awaiting its future placement upstairs in the yellow room.

Today was our first full day of yardwork, and we got SO much done. We weeded, took the poles down that were supporting our trees but had been up probably for years too long, put our new electric lawn mower together that was a gift from my parents, planted vegetable seedlings in starter pots, tilled my gardening area, and re-shaped and enlarged an area that has bushes so that we could plant our blueberry bush there too. The dirt felt so good and alive in my hands, and I realized how sorely I have been missing my connection to the earth. I grew up by a dirt road we would walk down and watch tadpoles in a puddle. I was both a camper and a camp counselor in the Blue Ridge mountains. I played in the woods in my own backyard, letting my Barbies swim in the creek. Becoming a city girl has left me heartsick in a way that only an experience like this can start to heal.

As I sifted the beautiful, soft Long Island soil between my fingers, marveling in the difference between that and the unrelenting red clay of my homeland, I saw worms come up, squirming frantically upon their exposure. I watched them wriggle and then carefully carried them - at least five in total - to the other gardening area that was ready, in an attempt to minimize the loss of life that would occur when my father used the tiller on this plot. My family was very patient as I carried out my rescue mission, and teased me affectionately when we later saw a robin looking to snack on one of the very worms I had saved from the tiller. But can't you see how much more peaceful and natural that is? That didn't happen because of me, and served a purpose in the world, which makes all the difference.

As Nicole and I finished planting the blueberry bush and stood back to view her, looking so small and fragile and vulnerable as a mere stick in that large plot of soil that we had just created out of patchy lawn, we smiled at each other and I said a soft "Shehecheyanu" that only we could hear.

What a feeling to help nurture life, and the very life that will sustain us if we can keep her alive long enough.

I can't wait to start on the vegetables.

My Golden Calf

My backpack was stolen yesterday during a work outing. We were given permission to leave the office at 3:00 as our semiannual teambuilding activity, though our only plan was to have happy hour to say goodbye to a social worker whose last day it was. There was almost no one in the place, but when I went to leave at 5:20 PM, my backpack was no longer next to me.

In it was:

my work ID and keys
my planner with all my work and personal events, which are not recorded anywhere else
my iPod Nano that I just got from Nicole for Hanukkah a few months ago
my Kindle that I got from Nicole for Christmas several years ago
my book "She's Not the Man I Married: Life with my Transgender Husband"
my URJ magazine folded back to an article I wanted to discuss with my rabbi
my notebook where I have kept notes since my first day of Intro to Judaism class October 25
my latest unread People and Entertainment Weekly magazines
handouts from my Intro class - all of them
a photocopy of a handwritten letter from a 7-year-old client that I've just carried around because it reminds me of why I do the work I do

And maybe most sadly, a handwritten transliteration of the Shehecheyanu my rabbi wrote down for me last week for me to memorize for the mikvah - so treasured, because she's basically a rock star to me, that I jokingly told my friend Allyson that I wanted to make a conversion scrapbook just as a reason to keep it. And no, asking her to write it down again would not at all be the same.

I panicked and then I cried. I was so upset that someone could do something like that, and felt lost without my stuff. (Though I was very lucky to have moved my wallet and housekeys from my backpack to my coat pocket earlier that very day.) Losing the expensive items sucked.  I don't have the money to replace my iPod anytime soon, and I know I will never prioritize buying another Kindle. I've learned I much prefer actual books, though I love the Kindle for travel (great not to have to pack several books when I don't know how many I will get through) and have appreciated having it precisely because I knew I wouldn't have another one after it dies.

But those weren't even the most upsetting things. Without my planner, I am going to feel so lost on Monday; where am I supposed to be, and how much trouble will I be in if I'm not there?? Chaos! And my Jewish class items. Everything I have written and collected since class began, including from events at my own synagogue.

I was rushing twenty blocks uptown for a classmate's conversion ceremony, and Allyson took the cab with me. She kept saying falsely optimistic things like, "Maybe it will turn up later and they'll call you." Then outside the synagogue, she hugged me and said, "I don't know if this is insensitive to say, but you know, they ARE just things." I said, "Actually, that's the most reassuring thing you've said this whole time."

Was my life and my health and everything important to me in that backpack? Of course not. How silly to feel such panic over it, to feel so unmoored. I know that it's a natural feeling in response to such a violation and loss, and I'm not criticizing myself for feeling it, just bringing back some perspective.

My staff and colleagues and old emails will help me fill in the blanks with what I'm supposed to be doing at work over the next few weeks, and the world won't end if I miss a few. And my Jewish identity is not wrapped up in handouts and notes and special tokens - I'm pretty sure I'm going to be Jewish next Friday with or without them.

Idols, all of these things. I won't be quite so dramatic as to say I worshipped them, but I certainly placed more value on them than I should have, and maybe that's essentially the same thing. Losing them does not change who I am, and in fact, it's a pretty damn good reminder of what's really important. My skills and passion as a social worker are not contained within a planner of carefully maneuvered nonstop appointments. My sense of being (almost) a Jew is just as much in my head and my heart as it ever was; I don't need paper crutches to reassure myself, to feel like a prepared student trying to pass an exam. I'm still here and I'm still me. I don't NEED this stuff. Stuff is not life.

But I sure do miss my pretty purple iPod.

My First Passover (sort of)

I say "sort of" because I have attended a few at Nicole's parents' but this is my first time hosting. Last year, my mother-in-law half-seriously suggested we host - "YOU guys should be doing this now, since you're getting so Jewish." We had been attending services all of three months, and I panicked and said, "I have no idea what I'm doing, I haven't converted yet!" Well, I still haven't converted, but this year I asked three months ago whether we could host and have been excited ever since.

Passover shopping was so much fun. I had no idea all the things that are marketed toward us! Wheat-free breakfast cereal, chocolate chip cookie mix, etc. We went to Fairway, which has an entire kosher deli area, and indeed they had a whole section set up for Passover. Much better than Stop & Shop where we had to hunt around to find even one shelf, and the only matzah they had wasn't even kosher for Passover. My mother-in-law had agreed to make a brisket and a baked chicken since we are squeamish about making big meats like that, so we bought her the chicken and then all the fixings for our side dishes and seder plate.

I am SO BLESSED to work for a Jewish organization that honors the holidays on which you are not supposed to work. Growing up, these holidays were just strange words on the calendar, much like "Boxing Day (Canada)". I didn't actually know anyone who celebrated them or who even knew what they were. When I began working at my current agency in 2006 and learned we closed for certain holidays, they were freebie days off and I loved it. When I started the process of conversion, I thought I would feel disappointed that they were no longer such freebies because now they would come with things I had to do. Instead, I LOVE doing these things and feel so fortunate that I have the time to. Instead of feeling disappointed or even resentful that I couldn't just get off at 1:00 and go hang out in the city or kick up my heels and watch a movie, I felt grateful that I had time to cook. I knew I'd be hosting this seder no matter what, and it helped immensely to have that extra time.

I had so much fun breaking out our wedding china for the first time. In fact, so much of what we used at our seder had been a gift - the silverware, candlesticks, crystal bowl, tablecloth, and cloth napkins. It was fun remembering who gave us what and finally feeling an occasion to use them.

Our seder was a bit unconventional as we tried to navigate it on our own for the first time. For instance, we got to a point in the haggadah where it said to eat the meal and then have the third and fourth cup of wine afterward. At my in-laws' we have always finished the entire seder before eating, so Nicole was nervous that we were doing something wrong, but I insisted we just go along with the book. Maybe her family has been doing it wrong this whole time, who knows?

I also made a few adjustments to our seder plate that I'm sure are totally unkosher. I didn't want to go buy a lamb shank bone. I'm not sure why I was so resistant to that, but I was. I just knew that they're in high demand right now so the prices get jacked up and all for something symbolic - it's clearly not the paschal lamb itself, so why can't something else symbolize it just as well? My mother-in-law uses a wishbone from the chicken she bakes, and I read elsewhere that some people just use a piece of the actual meat they'll be using, so that already seemed like an endorsement of some creativity. Then I happened across something a couple days ago that said vegetarians (despite not eating the bone, clearly an animal was still killed to get it) may use a fresh beet cut open to look bloody. That clicked with me immediately, so I got a bunch of beets, cut one open (it really did look bloody!), and then cooked the rest with their greens. Of course I also read later that you shouldn't eat roast meat because it can seem like you are taking the paschal sacrifice back outside the temple for yourself, so that probably goes for the beets too, but I wasn't about to waste them.

Then for the maror, Nicole completely objected to horseradish, despite my telling her that it's not supposed to be an enjoyable snack, that the displeasure of tasting it is exactly the point. So I got romaine lettuce, which felt like a cop-out since it's not nearly so bitter as horseradish, though I did read that it's an acceptable substitute.

For my AMAZING, DELICIOUS, OH-SO-PROUD-OF-IT charoset, I replaced the walnuts with dates because my coworker that I invited over has a bad nut allergy. Then I put everything on a bread tray since we don't have a seder plate yet. (A Reconstructionist colleague of mine has generously offered to give me hers, a nice ceramic one made in Israel. She is moving in with her rabbi fiancee in New Hampshire and can't bring it with her since it's not kosher for some reason and her fiancee keeps kosher.)

My Orthodox colleague would totally cringe at this photo if I put it on Facebook, but I am very proud.

I later put out an orange on the plate as well, which represents equality for women and the LGBT population, after some male rabbi in the 70s told the first female rabbi that "a woman belongs up on the bimah like an orange belongs on a seder plate." But I forgot it in the fridge and didn't take a second photo when I brought it out.

Here is my totally unfancy matzah plate. They are on an everyday dinner dish and separated by paper napkins. This was quite the improvised seder!

Having the hard-boiled egg on the seder plate, and then the tradition of hiding a piece of the matzah - the "afikoman," or dessert - for a child to find after the meal and receive a prize for it was such a reminder of the similarities between Passover and Easter. It makes sense that the Jews who eventually followed Jesus and became Christians would adapt a long-held tradition to fit with their new religion. So while an Easter egg hunt may feel like a secular activity (or even pagan, considering the very similar rituals and symbols for Ostara), it can actually be connected back to Judeo-Christian roots.

Hosting was super stressful, and I got the Jewish Mom experience of barely being able to eat with people because I was always in the kitchen prepping the next course, but it was so rewarding to see people enjoying themselves. And people raved in particular about my charoset and my matzoh ball soup - my first time making both. I'm getting teary-eyed as I write this - it just felt so good to be making things that felt like home but that I have never done before, and to do them well.

This was the menu - get ready to be jealous.

My mother-in-law brought:
--a whole baked Murray's chicken with leeks
--brisket with mushroom gravy
--potato kugel (store-bought)
--latkes (homemade and DELISH)

We made:
--roasted beets with greens
--sauteed spinach and mushrooms
--roasted asparagus
--salad
--mashed sweet potatoes (store-bought)
--matzoh ball soup (MY FAVORITE SOUP EVER, where have you been all my life??)
--flour-free chocolate chip cookies (from a box)
--charoset for the seder plate

And my brother-in-laws' girlfriend made flourless chocolate cake. She is Catholic and it was so sweet that she put so much work into a recipe she has never tried before. Last year she bought one from Magnolia, but it cost over $60 so she nervously tried it herself - and it came out AMAZING. It's pretty much a fudgy chocolate stick of butter. Heart attack/diabetic coma/heaven.

I was glad we had a small turnout because I knew we would be kind of fumbling through our first seder. But Nicole's family aren't exactly pros themselves (which is why when I first met Nicole, I expressed horror that she wouldn't be able to teach this to her children - thus the beginning of my journey!) and they were so supportive. Nicole's brother even said to her that he was impressed at how smoothly Nicole was able to read the Hebrew blessings compared to last year.

And I love that we are creating new traditions - though Nicole was a bit resistant! Because I don't have a Jewish background of my own, I think she took it for granted that I would just be taking on her family's traditions, that I would be replicating how they do and make everything. But how can you when you're a different person? She didn't expect me to already be changing it up a bit and making it our own. Two examples: 1.) I refused to use the Lipton noodle soup that she bought in the matzah ball soup, because you aren't supposed to have noodles during Passover. Nicole said, "But Mom makes it that way, everyone likes it that way, otherwise it's just broth!" And I said, "Well I'm hosting this year, so people will eat it how I make it. I am NOT using noodles on Passover." She pouted but then never said another word because everyone loved the soup and not one person said, "But where are the noodles??" 2.) "But Mom chops up the apples for the charoset chunky, not small like that. And you can't leave out walnuts and put in DATES! Dates?? I won't eat it! Oh, yum..."

Nicole struggles because she has always been "Jewish enough." She has never struggled to identify as Jewish, no matter how that was or was not practiced, so she is resistant to doing "extra." For instance, she is in shock that I am actually abstaining from wheat and grain products for the full eight days. But she went from making obnoxious comments initially to now saying she would agree to joining me for the first 24 hours. For my change-fearing, stuck-in-her-ways wife, that is a big deal.

It was a pleasure to be able to give my mother-in-law a break. The Jewish observance in her family seems to be dissolving with every generation (and with every interfaith marriage, including her own) and she is the only one who even still holds a seder, so it's on her every year. She kept raving about how happy she was just to be able to make the meat and bring it over and have us doing the rest.

We may only be able to keep it alive another couple generations before it gets watered down again, but we will do our damnedest to impart the importance of keeping these traditions and this culture alive. I am hopeful.

Next year in Jerusalem!

Building Community

Our rabbi has been working on doing some matchmaking between us and another queer couple at our synagogue. She once suggested that we check out a Tot Shabbat, but we felt awkward doing so without little ones of our own. Then a few weeks ago, she said she had been speaking about us to A&A, a couple with a 3-year-old and a 16-month old. She said they are house hunting so she had suggested they speak to us about it, and they were excited to connect since we are also planning a family. They gave her their contact information to pass on to us. I emailed them and we arranged to go out to dinner yesterday and it was just an amazing time. Their boys are adorable, and they are both awesome feminists who enjoy family and friends and adventure. Easygoing and very relaxed mothers, sharing equally in the smallest of tasks and trading off breastfeeding (they both have milk from having been pregnant) and not stressing over their children's energy and curiosity. We just had such a great time with them, and it's obvious that they are friends we would enjoy both on our own as well as with kids.

This followed closely on the tails of a recent date with my friend E and her wife. They came over a few weeks ago for "afternoon tea" and ended up staying til about 9:30 because we were having such great conversation. E and I were the closest of friends beginning my second year in New York, were roommates for a while, and eventually lost touch. I reached out to her recently and we reconnected over dinner before arranging to meet the wives. She is now married, closing on a house in New Jersey, and five months pregnant. I was - and am - so grateful for finding each other again, and at such a similar point in our lives.

All of this made me feel like I'm starting to settle into my life in Long Island. I miss my old friends who are at various points in their own lives, but it's so hard to stay in touch. My best friend N is now in Rockland County where she bought a house with her husband, my friend B just moved in with her boyfriend in Staten Island, and my friend Allyson has been less accessible since getting engaged last year. I'm struggling to stay close to them - with N remaining my #1 girl despite the distance - and while I will continue to fight for those friendships and try to keep them strong, it is a whole different kind of amazing to be building friendships as a couple with other couples. It's very new, feels very adult, and is truly what is making my new home feel like home. To have friends with similar values and in a similar place in life - and in the case of A&A, to actually live close to us - makes me feel happy and warm and at peace. These are the people we would gather together for a baby's first birthday or even a multi-family trip to Montauk or Provincetown. We now have someone we can join for activities at our synagogue - taking our kids to the Purim carnival, for example.

I'm not trying to put all the pressure on this one couple to be everything we need. They are just hope for me that part of growing up is developing this dynamic with various people, and I'm realizing how important that is to me. It's also kind of a freaky reality check that we are close to being at THAT point in our lives - that our peers are settling down and having families and wanting to have game nights instead of going out to the club. Nicole and I have always been the homebody, small-town types, but in our twenties, most of our peers were more of partiers. Every celebration revolved around the expectation of "going out," which generally involves dressing up and drinking and just not our type of fun. It's kind of amazing to feel us getting to a place that is more our speed, being surrounded by people who want to go camping and go out for frozen yogurt.

Maybe this strange island can become mine after all!