A Happy Birthday

I'm struggling here to figure out if school happened today at all. The Girl did the donkey for a pin-the-tail game, and Judd the Red Chicken did the tails...So, I guess we did art.

Today is The Sister's birthday. We got up early to do a little birthday decorating, made some eggs, and went back down to the Lower East Side. The Sister tries to eat responsibly, so we realized that if she was ever going to experience Doughnut Plant bliss it would probably have to be on a special occasion, like her birthday. We figured that the eggs would act as a sufficient protein block (so, I guess the kids had a nutrition/health lesson), and we headed south. 

After partaking, we walked a couple of blocks to our favorite fish store (so, I guess they had a Biology lesson), and Judd the Red Chicken bought some new fish for his aquarium with some money that his Grandma gave him. He felt that today would be appropriate, not only because the fish store is so close to where one gains doughnut euphoria, but also because he wanted to name a fish after his aunt. If you ever want to see a bunch of cool aquarium fish and giggle over the fact that only in NYC would there be a store that sells both pet fish and bait you MUST go to Pacific Aquarium.  The people that work there are crazy-kind.  They will talk to my son and answer every question he has for a full twenty minutes even though they know he's only buying a three-dollar fish.  

This afternoon, after the fish all got to know each other, The Sister spent her day doing a family tradition that the kids started doing a couple of years ago.

Back up so I can give proper homage: we know a couple that are exactly what you want your kids to be when they grow up. They have a tradition that we copied. And it's actually because we copied it from them that I am sharing it now. I kind of think that service is usually best when it's secret service... but if this cute couple had kept their tradition a secret, we would never have learned of it... so here's to sharing good ideas in the spirit of promoting propagation, not for a pat on the back.  

Here's the tradition: on their birthdays I let them cut school to spend the day doing acts of kindness -- with the goal of doing as many as their new age.  The Sister was turning 17, so she had 17 services to do. She was a bit overwhelmed by it, so I told her it was her choice. The kids, however, rather obnoxiously insisted, so she agreed.  I think this was her final list:

1. Helped the neighbor set-up her new iPod dock/clock (she actually did this yesterday, but the kids thought she should count it, as they always try to include that neighbor in their days of service).
2. Held the elevator for a long time for a group of people (this is kind of a big deal in New York where people will look you straight in the face as you're rushing to make it, and lean over and push the "Door Close" button -- they will continue looking you in the eye as the door closes between the two of you).
3. Made the kids' beds beautifully (they told her that she was welcome to do this daily).
4. Swiped her Metro card in the subway station for a flustered lady whose card wasn't working.
5. Opened the door for an elderly gentleman.
6. Handed out flowers to people on the street.  Note: one lady was so taken by this she exchanged phone numbers with her because she wanted to introduce her to her son who's in his first year of college. Personally, I think the service cancels out if you get a boy's email address out of it, but as The Sister pointed out, she gave out other flowers, too.
7. Gave cookies to the doormen.
8. Bought a bag of groceries and gave it to a homeless lady.
9. Gave $3 to a homeless veteran.
10. Gave balloons to a couple of kids.
11. Took the kids to the park for a few minutes so my doughnut-induced headache could have a fighting chance to go away.
12. While at the park, picked up trash.
13. Helped clean up around here.
14. Helped a confused person in the elevator.
15. Returned some mail to the neighbor that was mistakenly put in our box. 
16. Wrote a letter to Mom.
17. Wrote a letter to a friend.  

There are some things to be learned from a day of service: 1. If you look for it, there are a lot of opportunities to help out 2. Most people are doing a lot of little kind acts everyday 3. When  you try to serve, some people are gracious and grateful, and others are suspicious and mean. The Sister shared how she felt when a woman was rude to her when she tried to give her a flower -- the kids jumped right in with their stories from the trenches. 

Sometimes the experience is beautiful -- like when The Boy gave a flower to a lady who started crying because it was her birthday, too, and nobody here knew because she was far from home, and she had been feeling sad. She asked him for his name and told him that every year on their birthday she would think of him. Gorgeous. 

Then there are those who must think that the kid is going to hand them the tulip and then demand ten bucks or something, so they throw up a hand or hunch their shoulders and say, "No!"... or just grunt. Whenever that happens I feel so badly for the kids. It actually takes some gumption to go up and offer, so when they're rebuffed it hurts -- kind of makes them feel icky, like they did something wrong. 

So, service -- you need to know how to give it and how to take it, right?

I guess I provided an act of service to the kids by not having them do any formal lessons today.  They certainly don't have a problem accepting service... Oh well, a favorite aunt only turns 17 once. We are so happy we got to spend the day with her. 

Settle In... It Was Field Trip Day... So It's Long...

I knew that it was going to be a blessed day when Dan Awesome-Hair Zanes got on the subway and sat a seat away from me. We got off at Grand; he stayed on.

Off at Grand and a quick cut through China Town where we inhaled all those fascinating China Town things... Two favorite moments: 1. An old woman crossing the street and defiantly shaking her cane at a van that cut too close, and 2. The decision of a jewelry store to decorate with a giant puffer fish -- because nothing says fine jewelry like a bloated, dead sea creature:

By the time we reached our destination we had already had a crackerjack day, and it was just barely 10am. Our destination today was Little Italy, where we wanted to check on the festivities for the Feast of San Gennaro.  

Usually I am all for nighttime activities. Disneyland, I say over and over... and over, is best at night. Take a swim during the day, hang out at the hotel, and then hit the park when the tacky is wrapped and softened by velvety darkness and everything twinkles. Perhaps this Italian street fair, too, is improved at night when the carnival rides are going and the sidewalk cafes are lit with flickering candles.  

But this morning had its own charm. The kind enhanced by the kinship that comes when you smile at somebody getting ready for the day. We experienced Mulberry Street with just a few other wanderers, and watched tray after tray of cannoli being brought out to the satellite stands.  

Our first stop was to get cannoli... Only everybody but me abandoned the cannoli ship when they saw the "cheesecake pops."  Therefore, the cannoli stop ended up being a cannolo stop (did you know that cannoli is plural? I did not until today).   

Next we went into my favorite kind of store. It had a sign that said it was the oldest gift shop in Little Italy, but friends, gift shop does not bring the proper picture to mind. It was crrrraaaaammed with statues of saints, egg cups, Jesus magnets, plastic dolls, maps, kitchen timers, sink strainers,  etc. etc. etc. And everything was coseying up to everything else with a nice fine dust on top and stacks and stacks of papers and boxes underneath. There is something deep within me that forces me to buy something from such places (which freaks out my husband -- it's a fine line between British-library-esque clutter and being a participant on Hoarders). But he was at work, so I settled on a poster of Mulberry Street taken in 1900. I saw a faded version hanging up, and when I told the aged proprietor that I would like a print he knew exactly what random box in the middle of the store to go to (under a stack of papers and another random box) to retrieve it. I thought that I could not be happier, but then he went to the antique register on the counter and used it.  

Had I been thinking clearly I would have lit a candle for that shop. It hurts to acknowledge that such shops are going the way of the Dodo Bird.  

Because The Sister had done her research we knew exactly where to find The Church of the Most Precious Blood. Outside in the back they were selling icons/relics, so we picked out Saint Gennaro charms for $1/each.  The gold ones are prettiest... 

But the silver one (which was $4) has THIS on the back:

Does a Third Class Relic entitle me to Third Class Blessings? I'm 100% okay with that -- I'm very content with my life, so just the tiniest of nudges... We found out that had we purchased a statue we could have asked for the priest to put a special blessing on it. The Girl got a little medal/tag with St. Francis of Assisi on it for her stuffed animal dog... Except when we got home and took off the price sticker we saw that it says, "Bless This Cat." She is sure that her dog would not approve, so we found a chain and she's going to wear it as a necklace.  

The inside of the church is lovely in the way that flickering candles in large colonies waiting to be lit and clumps of artificial flowers and bright paint and a small waterfall and perfectly round halos and old wood and an enormous original bronze Michael Angelo statue of Moses (until I read the banner I thought it looked like King Neptune... but to my credit knew that wasn't accurate) and stained glass and enormous bright gold candlesticks and rotating portable fans always is. I could have stayed for a long time. The kids took out their clipboards and wrote down details that they noticed. I hope they wrote down the people praying. The cannoli and pasta are great, but I also want them to savor the feelings and beliefs.  

After a lunch of pasta we found the church on the opposite end of Mulberry, St. Patrick's Old Cathedral.  This one is not as cheerful, but is mellow and lovely.  The kids wrote a list of observations.  They will be comparing and contrasting for an upcoming writing assignment.  

The one thing that we missed out on by not going in the evening was being able to go into the Italian American Museum -- which is showing a film on the feast every evening at 6:30pm  through the 23rd.  During the rest of the year it is open only on weekends, so it will be a good reason to head back to Mulberry Street (we can show The Dad our favorite sights).  Today we enjoyed looking at the displays in the window.  There used to be a Queen of the Feast, this is from 1930:

As if our day hadn't delivered enough bounty we were introduced to one more sweet thing.  Right off of Mulberry, on Broome, there is an awesome, awesome find.  It's called Papabubble and they make hard candies.  They start with a huge mass and create the design and then stretch and stretch and stretch until they end up with really skinny little tubes that they cut into pieces and let harden.  What they end up with are these gorgeous little candies that showcase tiny flowers or fruits or spooky creatures (we bought the Monster Mix) on the flat edge. It's one of those places where the packaging makes you feel happy.  

We came home happy.  We are tired and all nursing colds, but like Judd the Red Chicken said right before making some stilts out of Costco nut containers, "It's good to remember that good places are so close."  

I put the poster on our front door -- like a window into Old New York; a reminder of that shop.  I want to remember to enjoy the city every day we leave our apartment, because it is a good place, and it doesn't hold still for long.  

Giorno Benedetto!

Get Your FREE Tickets!

We just got tickets to something that is very exciting, and I want to share now so the three people that read this blog can get tickets as well.  

Here's the link for the FREE tickets, and some information about the installation.  I love two ideas in particular: 1) we will be able to see what Christopher Columbus sees everyday, and 2) the concept of something in plain sight being well hidden.

Here's another link to a New York Times article that has a picture of the room (for the three of you that read this blog that don't live here... That's probably really pushing it to assume that there are six of you...).  

Surely after we go my kids will never walk past Columbus Circle again without remembering when they were a guest at Chris's... And perhaps by extension, as we walk past other things, they will think, I wonder how this can be rethought... or if it should be rethought... 

Oldies but Goodies

Old people.  I like them.  I know that a lot of people like babies.  To me a baby hasn't done much but show up, but an old person has proved that he/she has some chutzpah and good luck.  Their very existence makes me hopeful.   

Though today is still a holiday, we did do some stuff.  My favorite thing was getting to take my kids to an event that I thoroughly enjoyed several times last year while they were in school.  

On Tuesdays at noon there is a free jazz concert at the Bruno Walter Auditorium, a part of the Lincoln Center public library.  The Gotham Jazzmen.  

It's not just any jazz performance mimicking Louis Armstrong; referencing Eubie Blake. The musicians are musicians.  And they got that way by being musicians for a looooong time. There are no music stands; there is no sheet music.  Just five gentlemen who must have more music retrievable in their heads than I've ever even heard.  They say jokes on stage that only they, and the hardcore jazz aficionados in the audience, understand ("We'll do it in eight.  Hahaha.  We'll see how this goes...").  

The kids brought their clipboards and worked on some math and drew some pictures.  The Girl started her Christmas list.  They could have fallen asleep and I would not have cared.  I'm convinced that the quality and spirit of the music was so strong that we were absorbing it through our pores.  Further, the personalities on the stage caught their attention enough -- they frequently looked up during the jokes ("C?  You can't start this one in C!  Well... there's always a first... A one, and a two, and a three...").  We are pretty far removed from the world of such musical understanding, but at least my kids know that that world is out there.  And impressive, fun, brilliant worlds are not just inhabited by the young and the beautiful.  

Listening to the music today my mind started drifting... 

Several years ago my grandma and her friend -- both retired at the time -- went to the local public elementary school and volunteered their services.  Constantly hearing about the crushing needs of our school system they thought that the red carpet would surely be unrolled, and small, yet appropriately appreciative little hands would line up along the sides of that carpet, hold their pencils aloft and create a tunnel for these sisters of mercy to walk through...  

The gals dressed sharp, but made sure to wear comfortable shoes, for they were fully prepared to do some hustling... 

They were sent home faster than a Ziploc with pee clothes.  The principal explained that it was too complicated to have volunteers in the school.  

(Sister, complicated is going to be when you want to be pushed into the square of sunlight someday and you can't figure out why the bulk of society doesn't give a wrinkled gnat's arse about you.)  

Alright, I mused as the cornet trilled, you can't have senior citizens in the school because a) they could be pedophiles b) they are unreliable -- they get sick, they fall down, they get lost in Wheel of Fortune reruns... and c) I couldn't think of another reason.  Fine -- they can't put a sensibly-shoed foot in the classroom, but what about our kids getting some old people time by scheduling trips to an assisted living home?  The residents that want to participate could gather in a specific place and the children and the seniors could share talents -- sing, or read, or chat... The kids could interview them and write some essays or biographies.  They could hold their hands.  

Duh -- sorry.  Slipped my mind.  By the time the kids are mature enough for something that requires this level of sensitivity their field trips need to align with the curriculum.  And the curriculum needs to align with the core standards.  And the core standards are what they are going to be tested on.  And that is the formula that is going to make them great citizens and humans with depth. 

So today I played out a dream about adding more humanity to the public school experience while "A Kiss to Build a Dream On" was passing over some piano wire.  

I looked around the room at the performers (very active "senior citizens") and the audience (some quite elderly), and felt crazy grateful that my little family was there.  

Again With Topol

The Fordham University campus by Lincoln Center is smothered in scaffolding and shadowed by cranes, but the statue of Moses is still upstanding in the midst of all the chaos.  A gift that is: "Dedicated to and in honor of the Catholics who helped Jews in the Holocaust."   

The public school children are out of school today and tomorrow for Rosh Hashanah.  This is a reason for living in NYC -- not for the extra days off for the Jewish holidays -- but because there are days off for the Jewish holidays.  I'm glad that something that is sacred for many is acknowledged.  For us, it provides an entry point... Having days off in the fall elicits questions -- like the crosses drawn on foreheads did a few Ash Wednesday's ago...  I always feel a surge of respect for the Catholics who continue with their day knowing that the ashes pull people's eyes onto their faces and instantly broadcasts some of their most personal beliefs.  And now I have a reciprocal surge when my children, unlike many adult tourists, don't even bat an eyelash when once a year we pass many besmudged foreheads. 

The Dad went to school in Jerusalem for five months, and Great Neck, Long Island for four years, so he has been exposed to, learned a bit, and is very respectful of Judaism.  It's much too broad of a sweep to say that those two things -- knowledge and respect -- always go hand in hand (I can think of a good many things that did NOT improve, or gain my respect upon further inspection), but... but often they do.  

My background is different.  About ten years ago my mother, while doing genealogy, discovered that her father's grandpa had come from Germany and was Jewish.  A distant relative told her that he wasn't sure how or when or why the family stopped practicing (to the point of nobody in current generations even knowing they were Jewish?).  He just remembers that there had always been Hebrew newspapers strewn about the house and Yiddish spoken frequently. This concept of tradition and even identity being broken touched my mom. She wanted to acknowledge something that was important to her ancestors and so set out to do so (note: for those who don't know her, my best sum-up is a third aunt from Arsenic and Old Lace).  That year, my husband and I were gifted some chocolate coins and invited over on the first night of Hanukkah to see the newly purchased Menorah and watch as she, while referring often to her scrawled notes, lit her first candle.  It was all very sweet.  She served pork chops for dinner.  

Considering how many good friends we have that are Jewish, I at least want my kids to know that you don't give a gift card to Virgina Country Hams for a bah mitzvah gift.  The kids have such an opportunity here to do what my mom hoped -- learn and show respect for the Jewish traditions.  In the past we've watched Fiddler on the Roof, we've ordered the Seder plate from Fresh Direct for Passover, we've dradled, we've gone to look at the Sukkot huts, and we've dunked apples in honey after reading a children's book on Rash Hashanah.  (There are a lot of Jewish holidays.)  My husband always shares what he learned and we've subsidized with some Wikipedia wisdom.    

In the home schooling "plan" that I had to fill out and return there's a section labeled "Citizenship."   Since being a good citizen means fulfilling responsibilities, and it is a responsibility to understand and in so doing support, and if necessary defend other good citizens, it made sense to me that we should step up our game a bit this year and build on the apples and honey snack.  

I asked some families that we know what they do for the High Holidays, knowing that having friends' faces to associate with information would make it more meaningful for us.  I really appreciate the responses that I received.  One family asks the children to consider three things that they could have done better this past year, and three ways that they can treat people better in the coming year.  Another shared with me some of the things that her daughter is learning at Hebrew school, and that led me on a path to find out more about Hebrew school... I am impressed that these young children spend time during the week focusing on self-improvement and charity towards others.  Having had my ankles bashed in by scooters (and then both -- the ankle-bashers and the moms -- look at me as they pass as if I'm the jerk for being in the way, and just DARING me with their pursed eyes to say something), and having heard teenagers say the crudest things on the bus without any concept whatsoever of how that might be offensive to other passengers, I am inspired to learn that there are a lot of children out there consistently being reminded that striving to be better -- rather than feeling entitled -- is healthy for the soul.   

On Monday nights Mormons have something called FHE (it's short for Family Home Evening, which is clearly a super-dorky name).  We are encouraged to not schedule anything else on Mondays (or whatever day of the week the family chooses), so that it's clear that among all the other important things that go on in life, being with the family is something we value.  We go over family business (schedules, reminders, etc.), say a prayer, sing a song (100% painful in our household), have a lesson, eat a snack, and do some sort of activity (often a board game, or a totally random game that is super hard to follow if one of the kids makes it up and changes the rules as we go along).  Tonight I used the following as the foundation for the lesson from this website:

We celebrate Rosh Hashanah with sweet foods, like apples dipped in honey and honey cake, as a wish for a sweet year. Some families also celebrate with symbolic foods like the head of a fish, pomegranates, and carrots.

The head of a fish is so that we can be "like the head and not like the tail." This is a symbol of having a year in which we are on top and not the bottom...

We also eat carrots, and it isn't just to see better in the dark. For Ashkenazi Jews, carrots symbolize the Yiddish word "merren" which also means more. We want more of all the good things in life. More health, more happiness, more success. For Sephardic Jews, carrots are symbolic of the phrase "Yikaretu oyveychem" which means may your enemies be cut down. We ask that those who wish bad for us not get their wish, that they don't succeed.

Rosh Hashanah starts on the first day of Tishrei and lasts two days. Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the Yamim Noraim, the ten days of atonement.

On Rosh Hashanah, all mankind is judged. HaShem writes the judgment for each of us in the Book of Life. This judgment is based on our lives of the year before, and is the decision of what will happen to us in the coming year.

But the judgment is not final. The days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur give us a time to change the judgment for good. We are given the chance to improve our coming year through Teshuvah (asking forgiveness), Tefillah (prayer), and Tzedakah (charity).

On Rosh Hashanah we wish each other "L'Shanah Tovah Tikatevuh" may you be written in for a good year. But Rosh HaShanah is not the end of the judgment, it is only on Yom Kippur that our judgment is made final.

For our song we skipped the hymn and listened to an old family favorite, Fish Heads.  Perhaps not particularly reverent, but I can say that that song FINALLY has been given a purpose (other than being awesome).  Nothing says, "We are on top!" like the lyrics, "I took a fish head out to see a mooovie / didn't have to pay to get it in."

On a more serious note, we chatted about how similar all of these Rosh Hashanah ideas are to things that we believe.  We nibbled on apples and honey and carrots.  We all wrote down things that we want to do better -- I told the kids that their thoughts on this could be private and they could even write in code... which they both did.  Seriously?  

We concluded the evening by cruising around YouTube and finding videos that had to do with Rosh Hashanah.  The quantity (and for that matter quality) of Jewish entertainment has made me appreciate Dr. Pearl in Waiting for Guffman even more -- something I never thought possible (if you haven't seen that movie -- do yourself a favor).  There was a fun Bollywood-esque video, and some thoughtful ones, and some pretty ones... The "Best Of" in our opinion that required two viewings was Soul Bigger.  And here was a special surprise -- a guy that goes to our church, was in fact a nursery leader with me a year or so ago, donned a yamaka and is one of the dancers in the video.  My kids were like: "What's Brother _____ doing?"  

I almost said the bald truth, "Building a resume."  Instead I opted for a more subtle truth, "Learning about Rosh Hashanah... by dancing."  

May you be written in for a good year.