Tales of Bar Zilla

We've all seen or heard of the crazy reality show Bridezilla, where you watch a young and hopefull bride turn into a raging diva that expects nothing but perfection. If that's the case for weddings, what is the case for Bar Mitzvahs? Does the family who is preparing for this milestone also take on a zilla, only in this case they become Bar Zillas?

Evidence of the Bar Zilla creeps into the everyday routing. It doesn't start fully blown out. It doesn't start out with an obsession with invitations, and hotel accommodations, and party themes. No, it starts out simply with a wish and a hope that your family can make it into town, and that your child takes his hebrew studies seriously. But slowly, the Zilla creeps in. It may start when you get your date and begin to think about where you want to host the party. Or it may begin when you start attending other friends' and families' mitzvah events.

In my case it started when I began assembling the invitations, which will come as no surprise to anyone following this blog. Bar Zilla grabbed hold during those assembly moments and took over, in full force. No longer was this an event to mark a milestone in my son's journey through Judiasm. No, this was a full blown mid-life crisis to which sending invitations signaled the concrete reality that the future was now the present.

So how do you grab back onto reality? How do you remind your self that in the end, your kid is still going to be a Bar Mitzvah, even if you decide to have or not have a centerpiece on the table for the Saturday night party?

Hearing from so many of you who are following my little stories are grounding moments for me. I've heard from people whom I haven't talked to on a regular basis in years. You've shared your memories and some have even shared some great photos from the past! These exchanges are what grounds me. When it's all said and done, what we'll talk about is how simchas like this one brings families and friends together. How simchas like this one gives permission to connect and reconnect. Not everyone can attend. That's okay. Either way you are present in our hearts.

I know another Bar Zilla moment will creep up again. But, I find comfort in knowing that you are all providing so much support. So please accept my appreciation and thank you for listening... or eh...reading along.

Watch your Mailboxes!

Okay...as promised, here's what happened with the invitations...put to song, of course!

(sung to the Passover Sedar song Dayenu. Dayenu means, it would have been sufficient)


If the invitations had matched Andrew's Talis, but didn't need to be handmade. Dayenu!


If the invitations were handmade, but didn't need to be cut and pasted together. Dayenu!


If the invitations were cut and pasted together, but didn't need be printed by a professional. Dayenu!


If the invitations were printed by a professional, but didn't need to be reprinted when they forgot to print Andrew's name in Hebrew. Dayenu


If the invitations were reprinted with Andrew's Hebrew name, but didn't require a village of friends and family to help assemble. Dayenu!


If the invitations were assembled by a wonderful village of friends and family, but didn't require address labels. Dayenu


If theinvitations used address labels, but Andrew didn't insist on adding all of his friends at school and SMP and Talmud Torah and neighbors and the state of Israel. Dayenu!

Okay...you get the idea.


This year we mailed the invitations, next year we'll see you all at the Bar Mitzvah!

If I were a rich (wo)MAN

A few years ago, Andrew asked if we were rich. I asked him, what do you mean? He said, well one of my friends says we must be really rich because we have a Computer and a PlayStation. I thought about this for a minute. And then decided to reply, no...we just really like to collect things with screens.

But I got to thinking about his question. What truly makes a person rich? I've met "wealthy" people whose hearts have been foreclosed on by friends or family. I've met many "poor" people who live life to the fullest by enjoying the gifts of friendship and love.

If I had that moment back. If Andrew asked me that question again. I'd simply say, yes. We are exceptionally rich. Rich with love, family and friends.

I've never felt wealthier than I do today as the RSVPs make their way back to us in the mail. To know that family and friends from across the country are making the trek, is more than humbling.

Here are a few of the highlights:

• Our New Jersey cousins added the Bar Mitzvah to their honeymoon itinerary. Note that they start out in the Bahamas!


• My cousin Jessica is coming in a day early to schlepp around with us! We are thrilled to have her!


• My cousin Ryan in Denver is doing bench presses in preparation for lifting the Torah -- well, I don't know that he's really weight training, but we are so happy to have him do the honor!


• One of our dearest friends told us they were supposed to be in China for work, and that they rearranged the trip so they could be at our event.


• We are grateful for our family in Canada who are going to drive down for our event!


• While not everyone is able to be at our simcha (Hebrew for event), they will be there in spirit!

So yes, we are rich. We are exceptionally rich. We have a family who loves us, forever friends whom we can count on and who hopefully know that they can always count on us, and we have each other.

Striking the Right Tone

Throughout our lives, I believe, people are on a constant path to find their voice. Watching your child find theirs is the most special experience a parent can witness. Here are some of the wonderful ways Andrew has made his voice known over the past 12 years.

3 months
Andrew found out he had a voice when he was three months old. When he began to verbalize sounds he would stare intently, and with great expression he would make the ooo and owww and ohhh sounds. In fact, when we went in for his intake meeting for daycare he had a lot to “say”.

As the teacher asked about his habits, I rested Andrew in a sitting position on top of a reading table in the Adath library. He looked intensely at the teacher and began to vocalize, as the teacher and I talked about his habits.

You would have thought he was running the conversation. He locked eyes with the teacher, and for all I know he was trying to tell her…“I take two naps a day, I prefer to swing for at least a half hour, I’m not eating solids, but I do watch my parents when they eat at our kitchen table. I like to have books read to me. Snuggles and hugs are a must.” When we were finally able to finish up the meeting, he stopped as well.

24 months
Andrew had a lot of ear infections that led to having tubes put in his ears and the removal of both his tonsils and adnoids. Because of this, his speech was a little delayed and we worked with a speech therapist to help clear up his language. This didn’t stop him from talking, but it did make it hard for him to be understood. Remarkably, after about a year of relearning sounds, he began to deliver proper pronunciations. He was determined, you could see it in his intense concentration during the classes. He’s been going a mile a minute ever since.

8 years old
Andrew had the unique opportunity in Denver to lead a prayer during our cousin Ryan's Bar Mitzvah. The prayer was delivered responsively and required Andrew to learn how to pronounce, read and sing quite a few lines in Hebrew. Once again, Andrew was diligent. He listened to the tape that was provided in advance of the event. He worked with our dear friend and Hebrew teacher, Heidi Roston, to read the words and sing the melody. And when he got up to lead, everyone remarked how well he did, and that he sounded like a little sicken (birdie in Yiddish). At 8 he understood this was important and he worked hard to master the task.

12 almost 13 years old
Today, Andrew's voice is going through a lot of changes. What used to be a soft, yet loud, squeak, is now a low, still loud, baratone. When he calls home, or talks with his friends or practices his parsha, I find myself taking a double take. Yep, that's my kid, who doesn't sound too much like a kid any more.

Some things don't change, though. He continues to make himself heard, whether that's singing a song during his middle school play, or groaning when he doesn't want to do his homework. He's still intent with his words, whether that's engaging in a lively debate about whether Wisconsin will make it to the Rose Bowl, or telling me a joke that puts me into a fit of giggles. He continues to be diligent, as he works to master the words in the Torah, Haftorah and D'var Torah (speech in English reflecting on what he read in Hebrew).

It's not for me to say when Andrew will find his voice, or what that voice will sound like. But, I will tell you that I love his accent. Within his voice today, I hear strength, compassion, irony at times, opinion, love and friendship.

"There is a voice inside of you, that whispers all day long, 'I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong.' No teacher, preacher, parent, friend ... or wise man can decide, what's right for you--just listen, to the voice that speaks inside." ~Shel Silverstein, "The Voice"

Happy Thanksgiving! Essen! Essen! (Yiddish for eat, eat!)

Turkey's cookin in the oven, parades are on the TV, and oh...ya...the invitations are still on the dining room table. But we'll get those wrapped up tomorrow! And in a future post, I'll tell you the story about that one. Not a bad story, but one that I'll be more interested in sharing once the invites have left the house! (how's that for a cliff hanger!)

Anyways...it's thanks giving. Which makes me think about food. Which makes me think about my meetings with the caterers next week. But that is a story for yet another post (I'm killen ya softely with all the suspense here, aren't I ha!)

Anyways...food.

Andrew has a lot of favorite foods, and I attribute his not so persnickety pallet entirely to Danny. When Andrew was a baby, and started eating from the Gerber aisle, his menu delivered a pureed potpourri of gastronomical delight! Simply put, we introduced him to a whole lot of different foods. Danny not only bought the traditional sweet potatoes, carrots, and apple sauce, but he also combed the grocery stories for spinach, peas and other delectable vegetable combinations.

Andrew also got a taste for Jewish cooking at a young age. At a Passover Seder in Fargo, Esther (G-d**Bless her!*) gave Andrew his first taste of a pickle, at 3 months old. We have it on video; the transcript reads like this:

Esther: Aaaaa Peeekle?
Andrew: Wide mouthed, wide eye smiling
Esther: Aaaa Peekle?
Andrew: Wide mouthed, wide eyed smiling and giggling

At that same Seder, he had his first taste of chicken soup in his Avent baby bottle.

I mention Avent, because, when Andrew was a baby, I was obsessed with having that brand. I couldn't tell you today why that was the bottle of choice or even what that bottle had over other bottles. Parenting magazine told me that was the one I MUST have, so that is what I bought!

So, my mom fed him the soup, in his Avent bottle. This act of love was also a homage to me when I was a baby. Her mom fed me chicken soup from a bottle, which I'm pretty positive wasn't Avent!

In the Jewish tradition, food is a way of expressing love. And we've expressed a whole lot of love over the years. We've been so fortunate to have shared meals with friends and family for holidays, Shabbats, birthdays and anniversaries.

And we look very forward to sharing a meal with you to celebrate Andrew's big day.

Happy Thanksgiving!


*During the Jewish holiday of Purim, the story of Queen Esther is read to the congregation. When the story is read during the kids service, there are a lot of theatrics and audience participation. One way the congregation participates is by saying "G-d Bless Her" each time the name Queen Esther is read. To this day, I can't meet a woman named Esther and not either out loud or silently to myself say the words, "G-d Bless her".

**Jewish tradition holds G-d's name in high regard, and as a result, the name is not written out on pages that might be thrown away. I'm not sure how this applies to the Intranet, but I'm not going to take any chances :) Paranoid? Yes!

DIY -- invitations

Invitations are more than information on a page. They set the tone. They set the scene. They give permission. I asked Andrew what he wanted, and his reply was simple. Just send out a note that says you're invited. Hope you can come.

This invitation will be more detailed than an evite, but less regal than a royal wedding. In fact, I've decided to take the frugal approach and make my own. (...which you are about to learn is a comic event in itself.)

Poor Andrew. While I'm a very doting parent, I never created scrapbooks or took a lot of pictures over these past 12 years. Thankfully, Danny has! As you are probably realizing, I'm channeling those 12 years of memories into this blog...and the invitation.

Say what you will, with what you end up receiving, but I wouldn't trade in this DIY (do it yourself) experience. Here's how I approached the process.
1. Colors -- As you may remember, colors are a bit of a sore subject with me. (see "It's all about..." post ). So in order to figure out the what colors to go with I drew inspiration from Andrew's new Tallis that his grandma and Bumpa, Esther and Mike bought for him. Ironically, there's a lot of blue.

2. Design elements -- Should it fold? Should it have an envelope for the envelope? Should the RSVP be completed via email, or should I include a card to mail in. How many versions should be created? In town guests, out-of-town guests, Friday night dinner, the service, the party. Is an invite necessary for Sunday brunch. Should I include the card from the hotel? Am I'm driving you crazy yet with all my questions?

3. Do I order, or do I make them myself? -- Loving, caring, inclusive. These are all words that describe me. Patient, perfectionist, passive. These words? Not so much. So making my own invitations has become a group effort. My mom came with me to help cut out the invitations and the stars. Many have read and proofed what I wrote as well as assembled and glued. Let me tell you, it doesn't only take a village to raise a child!

4. How long does it really take to make them myself? --
The process to get these invitations out has been more comic than convenient. And, I'm only admitting this to you...it's a bit of a potchka (Yiddish I think for clumsy, not so easy to do). For example... After using what I thought was the 'glue tape' dispenser to stick on the stars, I realized I was using the refill packet, not the dispenser. No wonder the tape wasn't working so well!

5. Reality has met the road
Ironically, of all the planning I've been doing, getting these invitations ready to send has been the hardest. Even writing this post has taken me most of the week! Later this week these handcrafted creations will be mailed, which means this milestone is is no longer a plan, but rather a party!

11-11-11

Andrew's favorite number? Eleven.

Why? It's the first two numbers in his birthday 1-1-99! Andrew's been active in sports since he was about 4, and for every sport -- t-ball, basketball, baseball -- we've lobbied the coaches to give him either the number 1 or 11. We've been pretty successful, too.

I thought it would be fun today if I gave you a top 11 list, since the dates over emphasizes Andrew's favorite number. So here are the top 11 reflections on Andrew's (Danny and I) journey to Andrew's Bar Mitzvah.

11.
Add up Talmud Torah, Saturday School, Haftorah tutoring, rabbi meetings, cantor meetings and you'll get more than 1,500 classes.

10.
Ghost stories, gossip, homework, being the first to spot a yellow car, jamming out to KDWB and sports talk, are just a few ways the kids in the carpool passed the time to and from Talmud Torah. Not like I was eaves dropping or anything!

9.
A teacher whose dad married Danny and I, a teacher from Israel, a teacher from South Africa. Andrew's Jewish education has proven that it's a small world after all! (insert song here)

7.
A Mazda 5, Mazda 6, Mitzsubishi, Greenie the SUV, Brownie the mid-size car. What do these things have common? Cars that have made appearances at the doors of Talmud Torah many days a week, and Adath for Saturday School.

6.
Tossed salad in a plastic bag, cold cut sandwiches, McDonalds, Subway, Burger King. Just a few of the gourmet meals that have been elegantly served from the moonlit seats...of the car on our way from Talmud Torah to either Basketball or Baseball practice or games.

5.
White shirts, blue pants, accordians, hebrew songs and proud parents. Yes, we attended a few class performances, and Andrew's performance was better than Broadway, of course!

4.
Coffee, hummus, bagels, lemonade, brownies, cake. Foods that are plentiful at all parent-kid events at Talmud Torah.

3.
Driving from Robbinsdale Middle School to Zachary Lane to the JCC. Driving from the JCC to the Levitt's, to the Lehman's to the Fienbergs to our house. A round about route to and from school to TT to home.

2.
Driving, Driving, Driving, Driving. Deserves a reflection all on its' own

1.
Sure feels crazy to think all these events are now in the rear view mirror.