She's Country- My Musical Evolution

When I was little, like most kids the only music I heard was what my parents played.  My mom was an Elvis fanatic, and my dad listened to old school country- Christy Lane, Chrystal Gayle, Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson.  He also loved a few folk groups from his youth in the 50's and 60's, his favorite of all time was Peter, Paul, and Mary, consequently I could sing If I Had a Hammer and Blowin' in the Wind from memory by the time I started school.  I think this early introduction to music molded me more than I would care to admit when I was a teen.

As a school kid, I listened to the same trendy pop music that everyone did- Wilson Phillips, Tiffany, NKOTB.  I will never forget begging my mom to let me buy my first cassette in 5th grade; it was Whitney Houston's first album and I had to sell my parents on how positive her lyrics were because they were so religious that they didn't trust pop rock.

In middle school I didn't really know where my musical tastes lay.  My two favorite artists from the late 80's were Garth Brooks and the Indigo Girls.  I suppose with folk and country I was headed back to my roots, but I got side-tracked once I hit high school.  Growing up I never had many friends, was bullied and a loner.  In high school I finally found people who liked me- the misfits.  That was the early 90's and in Washington state the big alternative movement was Grunge.  I discovered Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sonic Youth, Jane's Addiction, Nine Inch Nails and many more.  It was at this time that music became intensely important to me.  Music was what our entire identity, from our clothes to our art to our parties, was built around.  We went to concerts nearly every weekend, local bands who were trying to make it in the Grunge scene.  I started exploring the 80's metal that I had missed in my sheltered youth, Metallica, Alice in Chains, Ozzy.  This music shaped my life all the way through college.

After college I went off to Germany and lost music for a long time.  I had no CD's, no radio.  Once I had babies, all I listened to was Barney and lullabies.  It wasn't until we moved back to the US in 2005 that I dove back into music.  At that time I was angry, I was drinking, and I was a mess.  My musical choices reflected that- Evanescence, Blue October, Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin- the 2000's version of alternative.  I would drive to work or school, blasting hard rock at the top volume in my car, screaming and crying.  What appealed to me in the music, just as with grunge in the 90's, was the anger and pain.  I felt that I was different from other people, I lived on the dark side, I felt all the anguish of the world.  The lyrics to Soul Asylum's Runaway Train summed up how I felt:

Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life's mystery seems so faded

I can go where no one else can go
I know what no one else knows
Here I am just drownin' in the rain
With a ticket for a runaway train

In 2009, I got sober.  Somewhere around the same time I started listening to the country station when the kids were in the car.  The only alternative station in the area had really crass, disgusting DJs and it wasn't appropriate for kids.  I couldn't stand mainstream, mindless, shallow pop music, I still can't.  That left country.  Over time listening to the radio it grew on me, until I find myself now with a collection of over 1000 country tracks on my iTunes, listening to the radio or a Pandora country station all day at work and exclusively in the car. 

A couple of days ago, when I was re-reading this blog I listened to the Linkin Park song I had posted here.  It made me wonder if I had strayed to far from myself by this obsession with Country music, so I put on my old alternative channel on Pandora with all my old favorites.  At first it was okay, some bands I still love, specifically Linkin Park, 3 Doors Down and Blue October.  But a lot of the songs just seemed like sad, angry noise to me.  Then the song Call Me When You're Sober by Evanescence came on and I was transported to 2006- driving to class at Wayne State and bawling my eyes out because I was so miserable in my life.  I felt that misery all over again, and became instantly depressed.  That's when I knew that music wasn't for me any more.  I switched to my Country station and knew I wasn't going back.

People say that Country is sad- that it's nothing but break-ups, beer and tractors.  To be honest, there are quite a few songs about those things, but that is not all Country is.  Country is love, it's hope, it's freedom, and it's grace.  Country music is uplifting, it's about being the best you can be and making the most of the life you have.  That's why I love it, it makes me happy, it restores my soul.  I am Country.

Back in the Saddle

I haven't blogged in a long, long time.  I'm not sure I even care to be blogging now, to be honest.  I just know I need to get things out of my head and frankly I can type faster than I can write in a journal.  So here goes.

Perhaps a check in is the best format for this. 

Where am I physically?  I'm 36, married with two kids ages almost 9 and 11.5.  3 cats, 1 house, 1 job.  Living in the suburbs of Detroit and working in the city.  Sober 3.5 years.  Husband unemployed nearly 6 months now, so wearing the mantle of sole provider for the household, minus his unemployment contribution.  I suffer from near-constant pain, from sciatica and other health problems.  I don't sleep well, or exercise, or eat right.  I'm kind of a mess.

Where am I mentally? Here I know I'm the biggest mess.  I'm tired of life and all the stress it brings.  I'm tired of making it through one day at a time.  I'm tired of dealing with problems.  I'm tired of jumping hurdles and running races.  I'm tired of working too hard for too little pay.  I'm tired of pain. I have so much resentment and anger that it's making me miserable, not just to myself but to the people around me, to my kids and husband.

I resent that I am the sole earner.  I know that finding a job is tough and that my husband is trying but I feel like he hasn't been trying hard enough.  I resent that I have to nag him every. single. day. to get things done.  Make a car payment, call the bank, do the taxes, cook dinner.  I resent that he hasn't picked up much slack around the house.  I feel if I were out of work I'd be busting my butt to keep the house clean, the family fed, the work done.  I know he's depressed, and has a host of physical health issues himself, but I can't help but be annoyed when I walk through the door at 5 after a day of intense work and the dinner isn't made, the kitchen isn't cleaned, and he hasn't done any of the things he said he would do that day.

I resent my job, they pay me peanuts and I've got more responsibilities than any one person should have. 

I resent my kids, though I hate to admit it.  I resent the energy they need from me, the way they take so much for granted, how messy and irresponsible they are.

Sometimes I resent my sobriety, because if I could drink I could make all this go away for a little while.  But I know that is not an option, so I keep plugging on, day after day.  And I resent that too.

An Apology

Today, I read something on a blog that really upset me. Who am I kidding, it made me furious. I responded with the same hateful and ignorant attitude as the blogger herself. I shared my rage: with people who didn't get it, with people who did, with my kids, with my cats, with my husband. I brought it out of the internet and into my home, head and heart. I let it ruin my evening and cast a pall on the family. I apologize for that. I apologize to my family, for taking my anger with a stranger out on them. I apologize to my home, for bring such negativity into it. And I apologize to myself: for the time and energy wasted, for sinking to that judgmental level that I dislike so much in other people, for exposing myself to something that I knew would upset me in the first place.

The internet is a strange land. For some people, the more they are exposed to, the more narrow minded their view becomes. I fell into that today. I still think the blogger was distasteful and wrong, but I didn't need to become that way myself. There will always be choices, attitudes and belief that I disagree with, that, in some cases, I abhor. My job is to keep myself and my family away from those people. I can't change them, they can't change me (as much as they'd like to). Holding on to anger about it won't hurt them any more than it will help me. So I'm letting it go, and praying that someday, the other people accept that they can't and shouldn't control my choices any more than I can control theirs.

Ch-ch-ch-Charity!

I'm part of this really amazing team on Etsy called April's Army. Members of the team came together because of our mutual love of the website, Regretsy. Regretsy started out mostly as a site that posted links to really f'ed up things for sale on Etsy. As the tagline reads, 'Where DIY meets WTF'. However, it's a lot more than snarky fun. The site is run by April Winchell, a previous writer for the Rosanne show and all around awesome person. She uses the website mostly for good, and only rarely for evil. ;-) She points out resellers, which abound on Etsy now-a-days, helps to get rid of counterfeiters and people steal other's designs, and best of all, generates a ton of money for charities.

Inspired by April's example of charity, our team has opened a shop on Etsy which is used exclusively to raise funds for people in need. Each month, we will run a sale with proceeds going to a specific charity. This month's sales will benefit For Jason, which is a shop whose proceeds are used 100% to help the owner's fiancee in his battle against pancreatic cancer. The sale will start Monday, April 25 and go through Sunday, May1. This month, I helped create a Barbie outfit for an April Winchell doll being made by Loki's Books N More (pictures soon!). I also collaborated on a fantastic doll with BendedBabies. Amy, the mastermind behind the mummy dolls of BendedBabies, and I have a lot in common. I enjoyed working together with her on our piece so much and am really in awe of how she turned out.

I fail

Last night, Fiona was doing something typical Fiona, that is being destructive for no apparent reason. She was pushing her feet against a table with glass sides and broke a pane of glass. I heard the crack, and when I came over to investigate found her reaching through the broken pane to try to grab the glass pieces. I freaked, yelled 'are you crazy?!' and sent her to her room because I honestly didn't trust myself to talk to her at that moment. I had no words, no idea how to deal with the situation. I called Paul, and he calmed me down, assured me that the glass was crap and he's broken them himself (this was a thrift store find). I told him I didn't know what to do with Fiona anymore, I am a complete failure at parenting her, I have no ideas left on how to be HER mom. I thought she was in her room, I thought she couldn't hear. But she could, and did. He went to talk to her about how dangerous broken glass is because, in fairness, how the hell was she supposed to know that? I heard her sobbing, hysterical because 'mama is mad at me! she said she doesn't know what to do with me!' FUCK.

Somehow, he calmed her down, we talked, I reassured her for the trillionth time that I do love her, and we all moved on. Except I can't help but feel I broke another piece of her.

I suck at this parenting thing. I don't know how to be the mom she needs. I do everything wrong, and have since she was little. I can't help but feel that her mental health issues are all my fault. I broke her, I couldn't handle how intense she was, how intense she is, so I'm always telling her to stop. Stop crying, stop singing, stop yelling, stop running, stop talking. Be quiet, go away, leave me alone. Why am I such a bitch? Why can't I just let her be? Why do I always feel I need to fix her?

I want her to love herself and who she is. She is so amazing in so many ways. She defies the status quo, she does what she wants. She is so thoughtful, too thoughtful really, her imagination and her mind take her to scary, dark places more often than not. She is full of life and energy and brings joy to so many people.

I am so scared for her and her future. More than anything, I'm scared she'll turn out to be like me.

She breaks my heart

On our way home from a friend's house tonight Fiona suddenly burst into tears. She apologized for not listening. Not because she didn't listen tonight, or today, or even yesterday; she felt bad because of all the times she hasn't listened in the past. I reassured her that she had nothing to apologize for, that I love her, that she is good and she needs to let go of these things and not be so hard on herself. But the floodgates were opened.

She shared her fear that I will leave her, or that I will be 'taken away'. She sobbed hysterically while she talked about her fear of losing me. She talked about her fear of going to school because of some horror stories boys in her class told her about a ghost at the school that cuts off kid's heads (yes, I've already emailed the principal and teacher!). She talked about how I make her feel safe, because I love her. I told her that her teacher loves her too, but she said that's not the same, because I'm her mom.

I said what I could to reassure her: ghosts aren't real, those boys are stupid bully liars (I know, not PC but I couldn't help myself), I will never leave her, no one can ever take me away from her, and most of all I love her always no matter what. The problem is, she doesn't believe me. She beats herself down, she thinks she's unworthy of love, she thinks she's bad. SHE IS SIX YEARS OLD. Why is she so hard on herself? How can I convince her that she is loved? How can I convince her that she is an amazing, beautiful, talented, smart, kind, vivacious, wonderful girl? Everyone who meets her is charmed by her. She has a light in her that burns so brightly, but she can't see it.

I am so scared of what her future holds. A lifetime of medication, of therapy, of depression and anxiety. Will her diagnosis shift to something even more sinister than what it is now? Will she abuse drugs or alcohol or herself in her depression? Will she live, or will she try to kill herself? What will her life be like? Will she ever learn to love and forgive herself? Will she ever learn to treat herself with respect and gentleness? How can I teach her these things?

It breaks my heart to see my little baby so incredibly sad and scared. It breaks my heart that my reassurances fall on deaf ears. I wish I knew what to do, how to be, to make it all better forever.

What I've Done

Anyone who is my friend on Facebook already knows that I went to see Linkin Park play at the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit Tuesday night. It was, as Fiona would put it, OSUM! I don't want to forget a thing, so here's what I remember seeing, thinking and feeling. Warning, really long post to follow. I've split it up with headers so you can skip to the actual LP show if you want.

BEFORE THE SHOW
The show was scheduled to start at 7pm. I work downtown, so I went in to the office late and stayed until 6. It was a short drive (less than 5 minutes) to the Joe Louis but my anxiety was in full swing. What if I couldn't get parking? What if I got lost? What if someone accosted me on my way to or from my car (this IS Detroit we're talking about!)? Around 5, I poured myself some coffee to hopefully give me a jolt long enough to last through my drive home, but I about halfway through drinking it I noticed my hands were sweating, and I was having hot and cold flashes. These are the first two signals my body sends me when I'm starting to have a panic attack. Shit. Thankfully I carry Xanax for just such emergencies and when I notice the signs early enough, one little pill can prevent me from having a full fledged panic attack (which SUCKS. If you've never had one, you have no idea how much. I hope you never have to learn). So I popped the pill, dumped the coffee (caffeine + anxiety = BAD) and calmed myself down enough to get on my way safely.

AT THE ARENA
Driving to the Joe Louis was a piece of cake, and parking was great. There was security EVERYWHERE. Guess us Linkin Park fans can be a rowdy lot. I was pleased to see that I wasn't the only middle-aged, 'normal' looking person in the crowd. Sure, there were a lot of punk kids but there were also couples who I could easily work with or attend a PTA meeting with. Entering the arena, the first thing I noticed was alcohol everywhere. In addition to vendors selling it every few yards, there were guys selling cans of beer in at the foot of every set of doors to the arena itself. Oy. Personally, I don't like to drink at concerts, I want to remember every second and not be a bit foggy. But I knew I'd be surrounded by drunks and I was a little afraid of what kind of people I'd be sitting next to. Did I mention yet that I was all alone?! No protection!

I was in my seat by 6:15 and spent my time waiting for the show to start feverishly checking Facebook. I was very glad to have a smart phone to be able to keep in touch with friends, it made me feel less alone. The two seats on either side of me stayed open until Linkin Park started, which was kind of weird, but kind of nice too. The people behind me were drinking steadily, but they never got so drunk as to be obnoxious. The people in front of me did, but I tried my best to ignore them.

THE FIRST TWO BANDS
The first band was a mix of techno and metal. I didn't care for them. No idea what their name was, they were British and the accents mixed with the loud music made it impossible to understand a single word they said. The second band was better, more metal/ hard rock but still I don't think I'd buy their album even if I knew their name. Yes, they were just as unintelligible as the first band. Watching them, and the crowd in the pit in front of the stage (I was in the nosebleed section, as you can see from the photo) was interesting. It reminded me a lot of my early twenties, going to concerts in college and later in Germany where the name of the band or how good they were didn't matter, it was about the experience. The pounding music, the flashing lights made me feel that feeling of being lost in the music again, for a few brief moments. It was cool, and I sort of miss being able to descend that deeply in the music, but in the end my pounding head, aching legs and too present brain let me know that I am way too old for that anymore. It makes me a little sad, but I accept it.

LINKIN PARK!!!
The band opened with New Divide, the theme song from Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. This is one of their very few songs that I don't know well, and the only song that made me feel a bit like a poser as everyone around me sang along and I only mouthed the words to the chorus. I honestly can't remember what they played next. One really great thing to their show, if you texted a code to a number during the show, you got emailed a link to an audio download of the ENTIRE show! It's not available yet, but I am so psyched for when I get it and can relieve the entire experience again and again...

DIGRESSION: PLAYLIST
Here's what I can remember of the songs they played, in no particular order:
Numb
Bleed it Out
Iridescent
Crawling
Waiting for the End
Leave Out All the Rest
No More Sorrow
Wisdom, Justice and Love
When They Come For Me
Burning in the Skies
What I've Done
Faint
Papercut
A Place For My Head

I know there was more, they played for about 1.5 hours, but I'm getting confused because I've listened to all their songs so many times that I can't remember if I'm hearing it in my head because they performed it or just because I know it that well and can recall it so easily.

BACK TO THE LINKIN PARK EXPERIENCE
Every song was amazing, they didn't play a single song I don't like. I was super excited when they played a clip from a Martin Luther King Jr. anti-war speech which they put on their album under the title 'Wisdom, Justice, and Love'. The text:

I come to this magnificent house of worship tonight,
Because my conscience leaves me no other choice.
A true revolution of values will lay hands on the world order and say of war:
This way of settling difference is not just.
This business of burning human beings with napalm,
Filling our nation's homes with orphans and widows,
Of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into veins of people normally humane.
Of sending men home from the dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged,
Cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love.

They followed it with my current favorite song: Iridescent. This isn't the best sounding video for it, but most closely resembles my experience

And in a burst of light that blinded every angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
With no one there to catch you in their arms.

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failures all you've known.
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go.
Let it go.

Really, this song, these lyrics, sum up the whole experience for me. I felt so connected to Chester and Mike when they were singing and I really understood where they were coming from, especially Chester. He's got 4 years sober, and most of his music in the last years has been about facing your demons, letting go of your past, forgiving yourself and others. Just look at the lyrics to What I've Done, which is a song I've always loved but never really GOT as well as I did this night. The video is clearly about the shit we humans have done to fuck up the Earth. But watching Chester, singing with him, it was clear to me that the song is about recovery and self-forgiveness.

In this farewell
There's no blood
There's no alibi
'Cause I've drawn regret
From the truth
Of a thousand lies

So let mercy come
And wash away

What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done

Put to rest
What you thought of me
While I clean this slate
With the hands
Of uncertainty

So let mercy come
And wash away

What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done

For what I've done
I start again
And whatever pain may come
Today this ends
I'm forgiving what I've done

In fact, the whole concert was about recovery and self-forgiveness. It was exactly what I need at this moment in my life and it made me feel so strong and so confident in my choices. So much was illuminated to me about myself, I am so thankful I went. Thank you so much to Chester, Mike and the whole band for being so fucking honest. A lot of people don't like the new sound because they are stuck in the same old rut of hatred, anger and self-loathing, but the new music is about life, love and exploring new things. I love it, I need it, and I'm grateful for it.

Life is Good and Other Things

Alicia over at How I Became a Tattooed Mommy tagged me with this prestigious award. Which is a very good thing for me, since I haven't had much impetuous to write here lately. Perhaps not such a good thing for you, but that's not my problem. In order to accept, I have to thank Alicia (hertzlichen Dank, meine Liebe!) , answer some questions about myself, and pass it on. Here goes!

Q1. If you blog anonymously, are you happy doing this? If you aren't anonymous, do you wish you started out anonymously so that you could be anonymous now? As you can tell, I am not anon here. Sometimes I worry about my kid's peers finding dirt on them and blackmailing them with it, but I figure that at least half of their peers' moms have blogs too so I'll just help them dig up dirt in return. I don't think I actually answered the whole question, but you don't mind, do you?

Q2. Describe an incident that shows your inner stubborn side. Inner stubborn side? My husband would be laughing his ass off right now. Um, let's see... drawing a blank here. I'll try to come back.

Q3. What do you really see when you look at yourself in the mirror? Really, do I have to answer this with honesty? Okay, here goes: sallow, poxy tired skin, frizzy hair, a doughnut around my stomach and butt, yellow teeth, eyebrows that need to be plucked... I could go on but you get the picture. I'm depressed now. thanks self

Q4. What is your favorite summer cold drink? a butter bear over ice from Biggby's. Espresso, caramel, and chocolate. YUM

Q5. When you take time for yourself, what do you do? Surf the web, read blogs, take baths, watch reruns on Netflix. I'm currently working my way through every episode of Stargate ever made. I'm on season 5 out of 10 for SG1. Thank god for the 90's.

Q6. Is there something you still want to accomplish in your life? get totally out of debt is my #1. After that, save enough money to actually retire someday. that second one probably won't happen. Geez, I'm depressing today! Sorry

Q7. When you attended school, were you the class clown, the class overachiever, the shy person, or always ditching? I was the overachieving shy person

Q8. If you close your eyes and want to visualize a very poignant moment in your life, what would you see? I'm going to steal from Alicia here, holding my babies for the first time. I still can hear myself saying 'HI, I'm your mommy!' in that amazed, joyous, crying voice as I took Saskia, then 3 years later Fiona, from the doctor's hands. Awwww.

Q9. Is it easy for you to share your true self in your blog, or are you more comfortable writing posts about other people or events? I mostly write about myself. I'm too much of a narcissist to devote much energy to writing about other people.

Q10. If you had the choice to sit down and read a book or talk on the phone, which would you do and why? My degree is in Library Science. Does that answer your question?

And now to pass it on: These are all blogs I check DAILY. Which means they totally rock, go read them NOW.

1. Cristina over at HomeSlice
2. Ellie at One Crafty Mother, although she's at Blissdom for the next week so I don't know if she'll post
3. Kara at One Year of Home Schooling Uncensored
4. Sarah at Finding My Ground

striving for new, learning from old

It's the beginning of 2011, so of course my mind has been whirling around thinking of what I should say for that obligatory new year post. I've thought about writing out my resolutions and my take on resolutions, and I've thought about writing what I learned in 2010. So here's a little on each.

2011
I tend to think that big resolutions are silly and pointless. The "I'm gonna change my whole life" types of resolutions rarely are followed through with. Instead I've been trying to make small changes for the good. Here's some changes I'd like to make.

1) Be more aware of the food I eat and more diligent in checking things for allergens. If I can't find out the ingredients of the donuts in the conference room, the peppermint mocha at my favorite shop, or the candy in the dish in my boss's office are, I shouldn't eat them.

2) Run. Okay, so this is actually a big one. I'm doing the couch-to-5K. I have never been a runner, but I know that the exercise my body needs most is cardiovascular. I'm halfway to 40 this year and I can't walk up a flight of stairs without losing my breath. Besides, running is free* and will help me with losing some of the baby fat that, considering my youngest baby is going on 7, I really should have lost by now.

Sidebar:I did my first day of the couch-to-5K today and it was wonderful and awful. Wonderful to be outside, moving through my quietly beautiful neighborhood as the snow fell. Awful to be in pain from head to toe after 20 minutes: My back and head hurt the worst, a sharp, jarring pain. My chest hurt, I was gasping for breath, my heart pounding, my legs jelly, the muscles from my feet to my calves aching as they stretched. When I got home I found I was 5 minutes short of the time I was supposed to do, so I did 5 minutes of sun salutations & decided that I should end every run with them. Not only did the poses stretch my legs and back, the deep breathing calmed my heart and lungs and the downward dog (which I hold for 5 breaths) got blood flowing back to my brain, ridding me of the headache. Awesome. I'm actually looking forward to my next session on Saturday.

3) Be kinder and more loving to my husband. If you know me well, you know where I'm coming from with this one. If you don't, you don't need to.

4) Be kinder and more loving to my kids. Fiona in particular needs more affection to fill that never satisfied hole in her, and Saskia is 9. In just a couple more years she's going to hate me, so best I get in some good foundations while I still can.

5) Learn more about my religion and be more involved at Temple, or at least make it to Shabbat services on a more regular basis.

2010
This probably needs it's own post, or a whole series of posts. But since it's on my mind, a few things I learned this year:

1) I am capable of big change. Really. Big. Change. And I'm proud of myself for doing it.

2) Intelligence is a gift to be treasured.

3) I often start sentences with, "I'm not very creative..." as a cop out. But I AM creative. And I enjoy being so.

4) It really IS all up to me. My attitude and my perceptions shape my reality, so I might as well make them good.

5) God is loving. He is not in the habit of punishing people, ever.

6) Humans have free will. So yeah, we fuck up a lot, but we can always make a different choice the next time around. Nothing is predestined.

7) I love Fiona BECAUSE of her idiosyncrasies, not in spite of them.

8) Saskia is WAY too smart for her own good. But just because she has the capability to think as an adult, doesn't mean she is one. She's still a kid. I need to remember that.

9) I have a panic disorder. It is not going away, ever. Accepting that, I can deal with it.

10) My husband is a good guy. He's smart, he's loving, and he accepts me for the crazy bitch that I am. He's a keeper.

Bonus
I am doing less in order to do more. I learned from 2010 that I can't have such a full plate. Kid's activities, volunteer work, my job, my obligations as a mom & wife and human being have been overwhelming me for a long, long time. I learned that it's okay to do less, and in ridding myself of some of my obligations I've found that I have time to do more. I have found time to sew, time to run, time to cuddle up with my hubby and time to play games with my kids. All give me so much more than those extra sports, Girl Scout events, and classes ever did.



*Except for the new shoes, gloves, hat, and sports bra I need to buy just to get started.

It gets better*

I just had a conversation with my daughter; one of those big, meaningful conversations which I as a parent want so desperately to get just right, yet I have no idea what to say. So I pause, and I think, and I try to remember what it was like to be 9, when everything seemed so HUGE. When I had secrets, and fears, and no one to talk to about them; when I believe that betrayals, and mistakes, and bad feelings were forever. Then I open my mouth, and speak from my heart. Tonight I said something like this:

I remember what it was like to be 9. When you're a kid, or a teenager, everything is so big and every situation feels like it will last forever. Secrets feel huge, like their eating your insides. You feel like you have no one to talk to and that you have to handle everything yourself. Things can be so scary, and you worry about making mistakes all the time. One day you'll be in a situation where someone is doing something, or wants you to do something, that feels wrong, like a knot in your stomach. If that hasn't already happened, it will, many times throughout your life. In that moment you have to decide what to do. Do you go with your friends, or with what you know is right? It's really hard to do the right thing, sometimes it feels impossible, like you don't have any choice at all. But there is something you need to know: the only person you have to live with your whole life is yourself. Even though it feels like the end of the world if a friend is mad at you, or stops being your friend, it's not. It gets better. No bad situation or feeling is forever. I know it's hard, but I'm here to help. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to go it alone.



My daughter's know I was bullied in elementary school. We moved to the city when I was going into 5th grade, and my unpopular, uncool, country bumpkin self was the perfect target of the mean, popular girls. They put mean notes in my desk, pinched me and hit me when the teachers weren't looking, ripped up my jacket and bag in the coat room. They told all the other kids that if anyone played with me, they would be shunned by the popular girls. So pretty much no one did, except for one other girl who was equally unpopular. It was a year of hell, and I never told anyone. Why? I look back now and wonder why I thought I had to take care of it myself. Was I too ashamed to tell my parents? Did I think they would make it worse? Or were they just so distant that I didn't think they would care? I wonder why they didn't notice anything, why they didn't question and pry until the truth came out. Maybe they did and I just don't remember, maybe I just wasn't willing to tell. Whatever the case, it was awful, and I was alone, and I don't want my daughters to ever feel anything like that.

The ramifications of bullying exceed so far beyond the initial hazing. My bullies left off after a year, and I was even accepted into their clique for a little while. I went to sleepovers at their homes, hung out with them at school. Why they let me in I will probably never know, but I know why I went so gladly into my tormentors arms: I wanted friendship and I wanted to be part of the 'in' crowd. But even then I knew I wasn't really a part of the group. I was conditioned to see myself as a loser, a loner, and a freak. I was broken, and it was just the beginning.

I'll skip the teenage angst and melodrama, this is after all a sort-of family blog. Sufficed to say, I was miserable for many, many years during which ending it all seemed like a very attractive proposition. Thank God, I never went that far, and a long time later I began to realize that life had gotten better. I realized that if I had acted on those feelings back then, I would've prevented just as much good from happening as bad. I wouldn't have had all the wonderful experiences I've had; traveling in Europe, meeting my husband, having my children.

It gets better. It ALWAYS gets better. No matter how dark, how painful, or how devastating our experiences are, they always pass. I promise.




*I'm not trying to co-opt anything with this title, I just believe in the message. These three words, this phrase, say it all really. The rest is just filler.

And the winner is...

lucky number 19! Congratulations Alicia, you are the winner of Ellie's beautiful raindrop ring and earring set. I'll be contacting you to get your shipping details and you can expect to receive your gift sometime after Ellie returns from her conference in LA.

Thanks everyone for participating!

Happy Holidays!

What?! She's talking about holidays?! It's October, is she nuts?!

Let me explain...

I had this idea last night while perusing the etsy shop of a friend. It seems like many people I know have been putting their creativity to work over and have opened online shops. So I decided that this year, I am going to do my best to do all my holiday shopping from friends. Granted, I can't fulfill all of my children's wishes this way, but parents, siblings, teachers and friends will be easy to shop for given the creativity and talent these ladies possess. And because I have a feeling their products will be in high demand come November & December, I decided to start early! Besides, the first day of Hanukkah is December 2nd, and that's right around the corner!

Then I thought, wouldn't it be great if we all tried to shop this way? Instead of heading for Walmart, Target or the mall this year, how about we all try to support our friends and loved ones in their creative endeavors? Hence, this post. I'd like to start a list of all the amazing, talented people we know and love. If you or one of your friends has a shop you'd like to share with us, please link to it in the comment section and I'll update this post to add the link here. Let's support each other and make this a unique holiday season!

To get us started, check out these fabulous ladies shops:

Shining Stones - Gorgeous jewelry designs by Ellie

Poppy and Prue - Adorable and affordable soy candles by Kate

Sassy Monsters - the cutest baby and kid clothes ever! Sweet, sassy, and well-made, these clothes in Cristina's shop are the bees knees.

FREE STUFF!

Sorry about the spam title, I am just SO EXCITED about this and I couldn't resist! I am hosting my first ever giveaway, courtesy of the amazing Ellie from One Crafty Mother. I honestly can't remember when I discovered Ellie's blog but I know it was in the last year or so and since then it's been my crack. Kidding! Considering that a lot of Ellie's writing concerns her recovery from alcoholism that joke is in pretty bad taste, but in a way it's true. Ellie is a phenomenal writer. Her experiences and insights have so much to offer anyone, no matter what issues they have in their life. I've found a lot of inspiration from her writing, and from her jewelry! At least once a month I go to her store, Shining Stones just to ogle the pretties. So imagine how psyched I was when I received the honor of being able to giveaway TWO of her beautiful pieces right here to one of my lucky friends! See, aren't they gorgeous?!

So now you want to know how to win these pretties right? It's easy, just do one or more of the below to enter! The contest will run until October 15th when I will pick a winner user random.org.

1) Leave a comment with your email address below to let me know you'd like to be entered into the contest (use randomname AT provider DOT com to fool the spam bots)

2) Follow me using Google Friend Connect in the upper left hand corner of my blog, then leave a comment to let me know that you did so.

3) Follow Ellie at One Crafty Mother then leave a comment here to let me know that you did so.

4) Follow Ellie on Twitter : @onecraftyellie then leave me a comment to let me know you did so... but don't ask me how to do it cuz I've never been on Twitter.

5) "Like" Ellie's Facebook page One Crafty Mother and leave me a comment that you did.

6) Go to the shop Shining Stones and leave a comment letting me know your favorite piece with a link back to it. For every comment you leave you get another entry into the contest!

Remember not to nest your comments or they won't count! In addition, for the next two weeks until October 15th you can get a discount in Ellie's shop on any item! To take advantage of the 15% discount, go to Ellie's shop here: www.shiningstones.etsy.com and select your item(s). At checkout, click on "other" for method of payment, and put the following promotional code in the message to seller: GIVEAWAY15. You will get a message saying "contact seller to arrange payment", but Ellie will contact you to set up a direct bill (at the discounted rate) via paypal, check or money order.

So go click! Shop! Comment! Enjoy!

Why convert?

Some background: I was raised in a Christian family but ever since High School I’ve had a problem with the idea of Christ as the Messiah. Over the years that has crystallized in an understanding that I don’t believe in the immaculate conception, the resurrection, the divinity of Christ or the Trinity. I do believe in God though, and I did want a religion, but my beliefs precluded Christianity from ever being an acceptable choice. I tried Unitarian Universalism for a few years, but while I enjoyed the environmental/social/human rights stuff I missed the spirituality. I needed a religion. So I started to read, and in Judaism I found everything I was looking for.

What attracted me to Reform Judaism?

God: The Jewish concept of one infinite, unknowable God perfectly meshes with mine
Torah: ‘The people of the book’, Judaism revolves around Torah, the Tanakh, Midrash and other methods of study. Hey, I’m a librarian, I love books! And I love the idea of having a pattern, a way of life and of worship spelled out for me.
Ritual: Keeping kosher, lighting Shabbat candles, having a Passover Seder, building a sukkah, hanging a mezuzah. I love that I have these ways of bringing God into daily life and making ordinary activities, like eating dinner or walking through a doorway spiritual reminders of God’s presence in my life.
Action: Jews live in this world, here, today. They do not live for some possible future in heaven. They work to make the world a better place daily. Justice, human rights, social action, volunteerism and charity are ingrained into Jewish life.
Worship: I love attending Kabbalat Shabbat services. The pure joy in worship that I experience at each service brings me to tears nearly every week. I have never known such a joyous group of people before.
Sabbath: The concept of taking a day of rest, of allowing oneself to rejuvenate and to celebrate and embrace life instead of just rushing through it is incredibly healing.
Welcome: Everyone I have met and interacted with at my synagogue has been so kind, welcoming and helpful. I have never felt more ‘wanted’ in my life!
High Holidays: Atonement, returning to God, asking forgiveness. What beautiful concepts, what a necessity to live in loving kindness. That these concepts are ritualized during the Days of Awe and Yom Kippur is to me more evidence that this is the right religion for me.

What have I found at Temple?

Really it can be summed up in one word. Home.

Tomorrow morning I enter the mikvah and take my Hebrew name, Chana, along with my youngest daughter. Tomorrow afternoon we will be Jews. Shalom.

Adolesence revisited

Saskia and I went to the bookstore yesterday to pick up a birthday present for a friend, and of course while we were there we got her and her sister a book. It was so much fun for me to see her oohing and ahhing over all the books; she found at least 10 in the first few minutes that she wanted, and as time went on the list just kept getting longer. At the top are 3 of her current favorite authors, Beverly Cleary, Andrew Clements, and Judy Blume. How I remember pouring over these exact same authors as an adolescent and pre-teen! Books like 'Dear Mr. Henshaw', 'Blubber', 'The Report Card', and 'Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing' spoke to me about exactly what I was feeling at that age. The characters could have been me. The fear, the anger, the confusion, the sadness, the changes! How did those authors, those adults, speak to me and other kids so well? How did they remember with such compassion how truly awful it is to go through puberty and to be a pre-teen or teen? I didn't ask those questions then, but I do now, because if I am going to be the best parent I can be, I need to remember too. So with this in mind at the bookstore I picked up the epitome of adolescent literature, 'Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.' Saskia, seeing it was a book by one of her favorite authors, thought it was for her. I explained that it is for her, but not quite yet. That this book is required reading for a girl, that it is part of the right of passage into becoming a woman, and that she will read it some day soon. Her interest was piqued, to say the least. But she respected that she needs to wait a year or so before she is ready for the book.

Last night I picked up the book and didn't put it down again until I had read it all the way through. Oh, the memories! I honestly had no idea that the book was as relevant to our current religious quest as it is. All I remembered was the sneaking of the anatomy book and Playboy, the 'We must increase our bust' exercises (as an aside, what girl DIDN'T try those exercises in secret at some point?!), the first menstruation, the bra shopping (the horror!). And while as an adult now I recognize the importance of the religious questions pursued by the character Margaret, it is still the issues of puberty which I think the book deals best with (and the reason it is one of the top 100 banned books of the 20th century).

While reading, I was transported back to the time of those firsts for me. I remember I was given the book by a friend in secret because our mothers didn't want us reading such things. Our mothers didn't want to tell us much of anything! The feeling that I remember the most is one of being so alone! Going through these changes in secret, not knowing or understanding what was going on. NEVER talking to my mother, because what did she know (or care!)? As an adult I'm horrified that I, and so many other girls of my generation (and every generation I suspect) went through that time alone. After all, our mothers and grandmothers had been through it before us. Why didn't they talk to us?! Why didn't they prepare us?! Didn't they remember what it was like? The raging hormones, the growth (or not) of our bodies, the feelings, both physical and emotional. What a horrible time of life it can be when you are all alone.

Rereading this book, I vowed to remember what it felt like to go through those changes. I vowed to be there for my daughters, to prepare them, to listen to them, to have sympathy for them when they are raging, or crying, or shutting me out. I hope I do better than my mother did. I hope, for the sake of all the girls about to become women out there that we all do better than our mothers did!

What’s in a name?

***Holy crap, I haven't published anything here since April?! How times flies! I would promise to be better, but I honestly don't know if I can keep that promise, so I'll just say I'll try***



It’s time to pick my Hebrew name. This is a huge deal for me. I want it to represent who I am, what I believe, and the journey I have been on for the last year. I don’t write this for opinions or votes (although don’t let that stop you from commenting if you want), rather to help me define how I feel about each of these names and hopefully feel my heart tug me towards one.

Yo’ana: Means “God has answered”. God always answers my prayers, spoken or not. He has always been there for me even when I didn’t know it or accept it. He has given me a new life in more ways than one. This name also makes me think of the Torah and God’s answer to His people’s cries through Moses. It makes me think of the covenant made between the people of Israel and God, and how by entering into that covenant as a Jew I am answering his call, just as he answered mine.

Yiska: This is apparently the Hebrew equivalent of Christina. Yiska was the sister of Lot in the Bible, more than that I don’t know about her. This is one of the most phonetically pleasing of the names I have chosen. It sounds Eastern European and reminds me of the Ashkenazi Jews who lived in the area where some of my family immigrated from. It makes me feel bound to the European Jews who perished in the Holocaust and reminds me that as a convert I am helping in a very small way to rebuild the people of Israel.

Chana: Means “Grace”; in the Bible, Chana was the mother of Samuel. Ah, I love the name Grace! To steal a quote from the internet: ‘Although there is no Christian notion of saving grace in Judaism, it is taught that God always offers even the most evil men the possibility of repentance (teshuva, "turning"). After such repentance one can atone for one's rebellion against God's ways by positive action.’ This makes me think of Yom Kippur and the Jewish tradition of asking God’s forgiveness for turning away from Him and trying to make the world a better place by making myself a better person. This notion of being a better person is one that has become very, very important to me in the last year! It brings in the concept of acceptance and the understanding that ‘I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes.’

Chasya: Means “Protected by God”. This name is sort of a combination of Yo’ana and Yiska for me. It has much of the same connotations for me as Yo’ana but with a stronger focus on how God has protected me throughout my life and continues to do so. I don’t believe that God chooses to save people’s lives but at the same time I do believe that he has a plan for me and my children and has intervened at a couple of key moments to protect my soul. Phonetically this is one of my favorites too, with the same Eastern European feel as Yiska.

Cha’ya: Means “Alive, living” and is related to the name Chava. Living life to its fullest is my goal. Being the best person I can be, living a good life, are important to me. I have had many bouts of depression where I didn’t want to live but I have survived through them and really believe that life is a precious gift which shouldn’t be wasted.

Chava: Means “Life”; is the name in the Hebrew Bible for Eve. Pretty much the same as Cha’ya with the additional representation of my new life as a Jew.

G-d

So I've got this other blog which I've posted a whole two times to, which is supposed to be about my relationship with/search for/understanding of God. But since I've only posted there twice and I figure that someday I'll combine this blog with that one anyway, I'm just going to go ahead and post this here.

Tonight we had a fabulous Intro to Judaism class with a fascinating rabbi, we'll call him Rabbi Y for now since I am still not comfortable with giving the internet 100% of the details about my life just in case all those cautious people are right and someone IS stalking me through my blog. Not like I've made it all that hard to murder me in my sleep, but I digress.

At the beginning of class Rabbi Y asked us to go around in a small group and state our understanding of God in a few words. Wowsa, a few words? Me? Hey, I hear you laughing... but this is something like what I was able to say in the time I had

• I believe God is Omnipotent and Omnipresent
• I believe God is Good
• I believe God is ultimately unknowable, and that religions are peoples' way of trying to explain the unexplainable
• I believe God gave humans free will
• I believe God presents us with choices every moment we live. He (for lack of a better term) wants us to make the right choice, but doesn't stop us if we make the wrong one
• I believe this is why bad things happen to good people, because other people made the wrong choice
• I believe God loves us

Next, Rabbi Y had us make a knot by holding hands with two other people in the group, but not those beside us. Then we had to try to unravel the knot. My group couldn't do it. After we sat down again, Rabbi Y asked us where God was in that knot. Most people answered, 'in the head'. This led to a discussion of rationalism and God as the 'ultimate brain' (as I'm currently re-reading 'A Wrinkle in Time' this was a disturbing image for me!). My answer; God is in the hands, because He is in the relationships and connections we formed. According to Rabbi Y this is the existential way of thinking about God, as put forth by Martin Buber in his work 'Ich-Du' (translation: 'I-Thou'). This entry from the Jewish Virtual Library sums up this thought well:

According to Buber, frequently we view both objects and people by their functions...Rather than truly making ourselves completely available to them, understanding them, sharing totally with them, really talking with them, we observe them or keep part of ourselves outside the moment of relationship. We do so either to protect our vulnerabilities or to get them to respond in some preconceived way, to get something from them. Buber calls such an interaction I-It.

It is possible, notes Buber, to place ourselves completely into a relationship, to truly understand and "be there" with another person, without masks, pretenses, even without words. Such a moment of relating is called "I-Thou." Each person comes to such a relationship without preconditions. The bond thus created enlarges each person, and each person responds by trying to enhance the other person. The result is true dialogue, true sharing.

Such I-Thou relationships are not constant or static... [D]escribing the moment objectifies it and makes it an I-It. The most Buber can do in describing this process is to encourage us to be available to the possibility of I-Thou moments, to achieve real dialogue. It can't be described. When you have it, you know it....

Buber then moves from this existential description of personal relating to the religious experience. For Buber, God is the Eternal Thou. By trying to prove God's existence or define God, the rationalist philosophers automatically established an I-It relationship...

Like a person we love, we can't define God; we can't set up preconditions for the relationship. We simply have to be available, open to the relationship with the Eternal Thou...For Buber, it is possible to have an I-Thou relationship with God through I-Thou moments with people, nature, art, the world.

Talk about cool! I am so getting me some Buber to read. :)

The last concept was that God was in the hearts, which Rabbi Y equated with our souls. Here he went into a discussion about the name of God, which we are not supposed to speak or write. Hence the observant Jew's use of G-d in writing, especially in the non-permanent world of the internet, and the substitution of 'Adonai' when one comes upon the name of God in a text while reading or reciting. But I'm digressing again, Rabbi Y shared the theory that the name of God, which is all vowels, may have been pronounced like a breath of air. I can't write it... but imagine a sharp, short breath with a bit of a yaw sound to it. In addition, Rabbi Y told us that the first lines of the Hebrew Book of Genesis which are traditionally translated as 'In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. Now the earth was unformed and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters. ' 'the spirit of God' can also be translated as 'wind'. And one of the Hebrew words for 'soul' is neshama. The word neshama comes from nesheema, which means "breath." So we have a soul, which is our breath, and God which is breath or wind, put them together and we have God in every inhalation and exhalation that we make. Double cool!

But this post is getting long, I'm getting tired, and I have a new book I want to get started on (Living a Joyous Life: The True Spirit of Jewish Practice by Rabbi David Aaron) so I'll just close with a few more ideas about what I think God is after having my thoughts stimulated by the class.

• God is that which is just outside the farthest border of what we can comprehend and/or explain
• God and science are the same thing, just from different approaches
• When bad things happen, God is always in the equation. But he's not the one hitting you with the big stick, he's the one that takes the pain from the bruises, if you'll only give it to him

You Don't Know My Kid (so STFU)

Warning: I'm kinda pissed. No one should take this post personally.


Scene One: Picking up a prescription for my little one's anti-depressant at the pharmacy.

Me: "Fiona's doctor called in a prescription, is it ready yet?"
Clerk, checking computer: "I can't give you that, the pharmacist won't allow it."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Clerk to pharmacist: "What's this about, it says "check age"?"
Pharmacist, looking at computer: "She's too young for that medication. Do you know why the doctor prescribed it?"
Me: "She's been on this medication for over 6 months now. She is under close supervision by a psychiatrist and a psychologist. Her psychiatrist prescribed this for her because IT HELPS HER."
Pharmacist: "Well I don't think it's appropriate to put a kid on anti-depressants."
Me: "Well her psychiatrist who is a specialist in childhood depression and anxiety does. "
Pharmacist: "Fine, we just want to make sure you know why this drug is being prescribed."
.................................................................................................

Scene Two: Our backyard. That dayFiona had been grounded for 2 days from TV for whining, talking back and screaming at me for hours on end...

Fiona, crying hysterically: "I' m sorry!"
Me, calmly: "I know you are sorry."
Fiona: "So I'm ungrounded?"
Me: "No, you are not ungrounded. You need to learn to respect what mama says."
Fiona: "But I said I'm sorry!"
Me: "I know."
Fiona, now sitting in my lap sobbing: "This is all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault."
Me: "Fiona, you need to let this go now."
Fiona: "I can't! It's all my fault. You hate me now."
Me: "I do not hate you. I love you very much. I just don't like the way you are acting today."
Fiona: "No you don't, you hate me. Why don't you like me?"
Me: "I do like you, I just don't like your behavior."
Fiona: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I want to kill myself."
Me: "Fiona, please don't think that. I love you so much. I would be so sad if something happened to you. Life is good, you have so many people who love you. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Fiona: "I can't stop thinking about it! It's all my fault!"

...This conversation goes on for another hour or so, until I stick her in the bath in a desperate attempt to distract her, which works (thank God). After her bath she had dinner and was finally calm enough to go to bed.
...........................................................................................

Scene Two was just one example of the ways in which my daughter is extreme in her emotions and behaviors. I could give you a dozen more, but frankly I don't feel like it. I've read books, talked to people, taken her to a variety of specialists and doctors and we've finally found a diagnosis that makes sense. That takes all her unique ways of being so raw to the world and helps her find ways to live without being so freaked out all the time. Therapy is a big part of this, but medication is a part as well. And that's OK. The meds that she is taking help her. They tame the wild beasts of her mental illness and they have given me back the joyous, energized, full-of-life child that I used to know before her disorders began to manifest themselves. I can't stress enough the ways in which my child has blossomed in the last 6 months or so, and it's all thanks to the help she is getting.

So why this post? Because people judge, and I'm sick of it. The pharmacist who doesn't approve of her medicine. The people who think we are crazy for sending her to therapy. The well meaning parents and educators and doctors who make the assertion that too many kids are put on drugs these days (which I do agree with, btw) and then take it too far and say that all kids on drugs don't need them. The strangers in parking lots, grocery stores and even schools who whisper and give unsolicited advice when viewing a tantrum. None of those people knows my child. None of them has the right to say what my kid does or does not need, how I should or should not parent her. All of them need to STFU.

Pesach

Our first Passover (Pesach) was wonderful, despite the fact that both Fiona and I were seriously ill with strep throat. Actually, she was on the mend with several days of antibiotics in her system, but I was on day one and s.i.c.k. Several Motrin and some allergy meds on top of the antibiotics got me well enough to prepare Passover dinner, and I am so glad! We only had one Haggadah which I don't recommend, which we had to pass around to read from. Since Fiona can't read, we had her recite some of the poems and prayers by repeating after me line by line. She also got to open the door for Eliyahu, and of course both girls got to search for the matzah, for which they demand a reward of chocolate egg creams (they got $5 each instead, I didn't have any club soda). Since my Hebrew is pretty much non-existant and I can't pronounce the transliteration, I found a great website which has audio files of several prayers and songs. We sang along to the songs and listened to the prayers. I think the kid's favorite was Dayenu, but I find Eliyahu HaNavi to be the most touchingly beautiful.

On the menu was a collection of recipes from a new kid's cookbook I got Saskia called "Matzah Meals". We started with matzah ball soup, a huge hit. The main course was gifilte fish (big blech from all of us), potato pudding (yummy, a little like hashbrowns) and tsimmes (apples, yams and carrots baked in a brown sugar sauce). For dessert we had fruit compote and peach kugel. The kugel was excellent, we're definitely making that again!

All in all, we had a great time and learned a few things (like I should really use a fireplace match to light the candles!). Following are a few pictures from the beginning of the evening, in reverse order because Blogger does that! and I am too tired to manually switch around the code. Oh, and no worries, that's grape juice in all of our glasses.

The Easter That Wasn't

As I and my family delve more deeply into our exploration of Judaism, we are beginning to celebrate new holidays and stopping the celebration of others. Easter has been the first real test of this.

I didn’t truly realize how Christianized our secular American society is (or how secularized Christian traditions are) until this past week. Sure I knew it, I just didn’t get it. It’s not like we were ever Christians. As a UU with an atheist husband we certainly never celebrated the birth of Jesus or his resurrection. The holidays were primarily secular in nature for us. They were about traditions like visiting Santa at the nearby tree farm, listening to carols while baking cookies, or hiding eggs around the house for the girls to find. They were also materialistic, with Christmas being the primary gift giving day of the year and Easter the primary candy giving one. Mostly, they were about family and community. And because of this I had no qualms defending non-Christian celebration of these holidays to some of my devout acquaintances, who believe that if you don’t believe in Christ, you don’t have any business celebrating their holiday. I also had no problem arguing for the inclusion of things like Christmas trees or carols at the holiday office party. “Yes, I know that there are people in the office that don’t celebrate Christmas, but it’s just music! I’m not a Christian and I love it!”

But a funny thing happened on the way to conversion. All of a sudden it doesn’t seem appropriate for my family to celebrate these holidays. All of a sudden they feel very religious indeed. The thought crossed my mind that we could have baskets, candy and a visit from an oversized bunny on Sunday, but why? Why celebrate an event that I don’t believe happened? And how do you justify baskets and a bunny when they both have “Easter” in the title?

In the days, weeks even, leading up to the holiday I informed the girls whenever the subject came up that “we won’t be celebrating Easter this year”. Thankfully, Passover was the Monday night before Easter, so we had something else to look forward to, and the girls really enjoyed our Seder. Saskia certainly didn’t seem to mind the exclusion of Easter. In fact I overheard her on the phone Saturday night telling a friend, “We don’t celebrate Easter. My mom is becoming Jewish.” The other girl must have asked something because there was a pause and then she said, “I want to become Jewish too.” Talk about a proud mommy moment! But I digress…

Fiona is clearly more confused about the whole thing, and society isn’t helping. In school they have been coloring pictures of Easter bunnies for weeks. On Thursday they dyed eggs and had an Easter party. On Saturday when she went shopping with me the cashiers at every store asked her a variety of “Are you excited for Easter? Have you painted eggs yet? What do you think the Easter bunny will bring you?” questions. She just looked at them and didn’t say anything, partly because she doesn’t really like talking to strangers and partly because well, what could she say? And it was then that I got it. How pervasive Christian holidays are in secular American society. How frankly annoying it is to have everyone around you assume you celebrate them too, even if you’re not Christian.

I’m beginning to think that perhaps all those people who get huffy about celebrating Christmas and Easter in secular settings like schools and offices were right all along. The fact is, they are religious holidays and they are not for everyone. While I can wish my Christian friends a “Happy Easter” and understand that I am expressing my desire for them to enjoy their holiday, I can’t explain to my children why the Easter bunny doesn’t come to our house any more (they haven’t asked yet, but I’m sure Fiona will eventually) and right now, I wish that schools and TV and grocery store clerks didn’t make such a big deal out of it so I wouldn’t have to.