wig, ya dig?

In an attempt to steer clear of the Hamas-wins-the-election post, I'm choosing instead to indulge in a rare Judaic post. I recently stumbled upon this, in which a young woman discusses her choices regarding the practice of covering the head once married (kisui rosh).

As a former practitioner of kisui rosh, I'm very sympathetic to her choices. I covered my hair for a year and a half before I finally stopped. I believe that I began covering my hair for an excellent reason: looking at the standards of my community, considering the kind of religious observance that I wished to maintain, it became clear that kisui rosh was an appropriate choice. Orthodox Judiasm supports a variety of kisui rosh behaviors, not to mention that the hats were kind of cute. However, when we left that community and I went to graduate school, I found myself in a secular environment to which I was the representative of all things Jewish (bagels and lox excluded). I began to revisit my choice. Was it a matter of community or philosophy? Now that the community was gone, what was left? And what did it say about me that my choices were peer-driven?

I decided that a religious choice is one worthy of revisiting, daily if need be. That religious motivation should be considered, reconsidered and constantly queried or else it risks growing reflexive. And that community is, in fact, a valid reason for making a religious choice - if it is one already intrinsically appropriate. Was this convenient philosophy on my part? Maybe. The damned hats did give me headaches...

Like the burka, kisui rosh is a very, very difficult choice for someone who is living and working outside of the protective arms of the religious community. It is a visual reminder of difference in a manner even more striking than the kipa (a better comparison would be to payot, or the curled earlocks that chasidim wear) - unless the woman wears an expensive and rather uncomfortable wig.

Kudos and best of luck to Shanna in her choice. It is one that I have made my peace with, and have much respect for.

a variant on a familiar tune

Eggs, soy, dairy, wool, mold, peanuts and tree nuts. Overall IgE.

I briskly accepted the lab slip from the allergist, letting momentum carry me forward while my brain stood still. Will stand still, I hope, until we get the results. I'm too easily guilty of planning damage control in advance, and it can take up to a week and a half to get the results.

Did I say that I felt like mama roadkill at our last allergy appointment? Well, yes. But this time I mean it. Oh, my sweet patooties, this is just about too much. I can handle most of that list, but the eggs and the soy - the very idea of checking for just one more ingredient is overwhelming. Sigh.

Oh, I know, it'll settle itself in. As we always do, there's the new rule for a child's care, followed by the initial shock/rage/grief reaction, which I know so well that I can manage it in hours rather than days, then adjustment. Eventually, we look up one day to realize that hey, we've been managing just fine under the new regime. Huh! Would ya look at that.

But today is not that day. mumble grumble rumble grrrrr Food is a wonder and a comfort to me, and I adore exploring flavors, textures, and sharing those pleasures with my lover, my sons. Food is love, pleasure, comfort - and complications. Eschewing the temptation to unpack the metaphor of food and parenting, I give you instead

The Mama's wish list for today:
a peanut butter sandwich
anything chocolate, preferably from Burdick's
a personal chef (I read about this - they come to your home and make you dinner!)
Matt James to fix up my yard
a full night's sleep

overheard conversations

Child: I have to pray to God so that he won't send the lightening and thunder.
Mama: really? Might you pray to God for other reasons?
Child (scathing): No. And I need the very big book way up there.
Mama (sensing a ploy): Nope. You can use your little one.
Child: That's okay - God's not a real person, anyway. Everybody is just making him up.
Mama: what makes God not real? Just because you can't see Him doesn't mean He's not there.
Child: He's hiding in the clouds, up where I can't see him. But he's not real because He doesn't have bones.
Mama: Ah.

********
scene: child at school with nurse, who is giving the infusion of clotting factor, while the mama is home sick. Other children are watching with tremendous interest.

Child: And this is the needle, and this is the gauze, and here is the alcohol, which you need to clean the skin.
Nurse: If you want, we can do this where your friends can't watch us. Are you alright with all of the kids watching?
Child: Yup. It's okay.
Watching Child: XXXXXX, are you getting medicine because you are sick?
Child: No. The medicine keeps me healthy.
Nurse: (silent explosion of pride)

************

And as a reward for those of you who have read the entire post, here's a blog that I'm currently looking at: http://The Kosher Blog
Enjoy!