Archive for January, 2012

A typical conversation with Niv

January 22, 2012 Leave a comment

N: Ima, what are you doing?

L: I’m using this machine called a babyliss to straighten a few pieces of my hair.

N: Why?

L: I want to see how it looks.

N: Don’t you like your curls?

L: I do like my curls. But I thought it would be fun to try something different.

N: Oh. Ok.

L: (huh. that was surprisingly ea…)

N: What if your curls don’t come back?

L: They will when I wash my hair.

N: How do you know?

L: Because when a person who has curly hair uses this to straighten it, the curls will come back when the person washes them.

N: Have you done this before?

L: Nope, first time.

N: So how do you know for sure the curls will come back?

L: I just know.

N: How?

L: Well actually a hairdresser has done this to my hair before, so I know once I wash my hair the curls will come back.

N: So you HAVE done this before? You said you haven’t.

L: (oh for f…) I said I haven’t because this is the first time I’m doing it. By myself.

N: You need to decide. Either you’ve done this before or you haven’t.

L: I did explain it. I haven’t done it to my hair, but a hairdresser has.

N: Ahhh.

L: Yes.

N: So you’ve done it before.

L: Right.

N: So if you’re doing it again, that means you don’t like your curls.

L: Niv, put your head down on that pillow, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Right. Now.

N: But…

L: No buts. Now.

N: Oooof, you NEVER answer ANY of my questions!!!  NEVER EVER!

Categories: Israel, Parenthood

Bless her heart

January 19, 2012 2 comments

The other night Niv had a meltdown. It was past her bedtime, but she really wanted to draw a picture and write a long message to her friend who’s mom just had a baby. I sat with her and patiently spelled out every word of every sentence. It was not a short letter. She drew a lovely picture of monkeys and asked to put it all in an envelope.

And then she made a mistake on the envelope and went stark raving mental. She was clearly tired and past her coping with failure threshold and the fallout wasn’t pretty. I let her cry and tried to calm her but the final straw was her shouting rudely at me. I said “right, enough”, and told her to go to her room. Aha. Sure. At this point Moran came into the room, grabbed the envelope from her and threatened to tear it up. Lovely. Just great. Because that will most definitely calm the beast. He didn’t rip it up, but he did pick her up, fighting like a wet cornered cat, and put her in bed.

That’s when she stopped crying. And started screaming:

OOOOHHHHH! How fun! How fun for us that there are parents who will RIP APART children’s drawings! And envelopes! Thank GOD for parents like this, that will grab their children’s creations from their hands and tear them up! How lucky we all are! WHAT FUN!

She’s 5. The future terrifies me.

Categories: Uncategorized

It’s Friday morning, the sun is shining…

January 18, 2012 Leave a comment

This post from Melchett Mike reminded me of something that happened to me a few years ago. Moran and I were walking down Shenkin street on a busy Friday morning (on the pavement obviously), and suddenly there was a guy on a bike barreling towards me full speed. It was also obvious that the bike rider was chromosomally challenged in one way or another, which is, er, fine, you know. I’m not knocking the guy. Seriously. I mean, he’s out there, riding a bike, independent and all that. Good for him. Please no hate mail! Aaand back to my story. As I scrambled to get out of the way, he shouted at me (with a lisp) something so priceless that it’s become one of our daily catchphrases:

“THUTHI VAKASHA METHUMTHEMET!” (zuzi b’vakasha metumtemet. Eng: Move please idiot).

The ironies in that short sentence are both stark and subtle, and many. For starters: 

1. He is riding full speed along a PAVEMENT, not a bike lane nor a road. And he’s shouting at ME to move.

2. He is shouting for me to move, and then politely screams “VAKASHA” (please). ????

3. After shouting PLEASE, he calls me a metumtemet

4. I’M the metumtemet?

That’s what makes it so brilliant. And I can tell you this – it was worth it for the sheer satisfaction I get when I’m reaching past Moran for the salt and I shout “thuth vakasha methumtham”.

Categories: Israel, Uncategorized