During the war of southern aggression (that's a joke only I'll get. Oh well) it was totally wonderful and splendid to see and hear and feel all of the world praying for us to be safe and secure and missile free.
Now that bli ayin hara we've had several days of being missile free, I wish I'd see and hear and feel the entire world being grateful for the same.
We've had drills about what to do if there's a siren. The siren, the siren - the siren was the big topic for a few days. Now finally Sroch realizes fully that the siren means there's a rocket behind it. She's hasn't been scared... but tonight at bedtime we had to say lots of extra tehillim and she wants me to move her into the mamad (secure room) for the night ("with all of my toys and my blankies and my sippy cup and my pajamas and my blanket because I don't want a rocket to come and blow them all up").
Okay, maybe she's scared. But bless her religious heart, she also knows it's tehillim and prayer and God who will protect her.
Llama isn't scared, and enjoyed the running-to-the-mamad drills very much. They haven't actually drilled with her in school, but Sroch has.
Last night at parent-teacher conferences, I saw taped around the school the various class names (Sroch is 1א), where they are supposed to stand in case of a siren. The school doesn't have nearly enough mamad space for all 600+ students, but lots of partially-underground reinforced rooms with no windows.
We are also spoiled here, in Beit Shemesh. If there's a missile shot here, God forbid, we have like over a minute to get into place.
Yes, over a minute to run to shelter is the good life here in Israel.
Listening to the radio, it's hard to get through a song or a commercial sometimes without the interruption of a code red and the accompanying city name. Towns near the Gazan border that I've never heard of before are a constant refrain. And always the fear that the next one will be... Beit Shemesh.
The fear is not that I or mine will be hurt, chas veshalom. My fear is that my children will fear. But as of tonight's bedtime... that may be happening anyway.
On the other side, the cohesiveness and unity of Jews all over Israel is tangible, like a warm cuddly blanket of unification. And the announcer on the radio, asking for a summary of the day's military news, prompted the reporter with - "What miracles do you have to report to us today?"
We're seeing miracles. We're living miracles. No God - we don't take it for granted.
More to come later. I have to go to a bar mitzvah now, because yes, B"H, simchas still go on. As will the Jewish people, forever and ever, amen.
Okay! Normal Thursday night! Make a shabbos menu. Start cooking. Throw in a load of laundry. Stash some chocolate and water in the ממ''ד (secure room). Post on Facebook. Wish for a beer. Put the tehillim in the secure room too. Kiss the kids an extra time. Play some Words With Friends. Get angry. Get sad. Daven some more.
Mazal tov to the H's, who just had their second son, and invited us to be the kvaters at the bris.
We've been kvater to many, many babies. The kvater & kvaterin are the couple who bring the child to the ceremony, i.e. I take the baby from the mother, pass him to Yoav, who takes him to the father and the mohel, etc. And then in reverse when the bris is done.
This is a traditional segula (translation = happy spiritual hint or push to God or something like that) for a couple to have children. It's also more or less tied into the godparent role. For a family like the H's, we were chosen not just because we do not yet have a son of our own, but also because of how close we are to them.
I honestly cannot recall how many times or each family for whom we were kavter. Lots of times, before the girls were born, but barely ever SINCE they were born.
Unlike many couples who wait a long time for their kids, we never minded being kvater, never felt it was shameful or insulting or nebby or pathetic. We were happy to do it - such a mitzvah! And who's to say that all those kvatering jobs didn't pay off big time in our two girlies? Not we.
It's funny - my girlies are such wonderful worlds unto themselves. They are perfect, delicious, wonderful. So why do we still want another child?
I asked a friend that, after she and I had had our firsts (us after waiting 6.5 years, she after 10 years). I said - My Sarah is so perfect, why would I need any more of her?
And she answered - MY Sarah is so perfect, I want a dozen more.
(Bli ayin hara, I believe she by now has five more - wow!)
So bring on the kvater jobs, friends. Bring them on.