"While I haven’t tried raising children anywhere else, I really think there’s a purity that the children here have"

Let Them Make Their Choices [Take Your Pick / Issue 772]

I read the article about empowering teens to make their own decisions with great interest. I’ve realized that my kids often ask me for advice when they’re facing a tough decision and, subconsciously, don’t want to take responsibility for the outcome of their choice.

I used to be flattered that they were consulting with me, and eager to share my hard-earned wisdom. But experience has taught me that that’s usually not the wisest course of action.

Decisions often have fallout. And the person making the decision is the one who needs to face — and own — the fallout. It’s very tempting to allow someone else to make your decision. Then, whatever happens, there’s someone else to blame. But it’s not healthy for you or your child for you to become the punching bag. Part of being an adult means owning your choices.

You can discuss the issue with them. You can model how to weigh the pros and cons of an issue. You can offer any helpful information or insights you have about the topic. And then step back. Allow the final choice to be theirs.

Batsheva Berman

Conquering Everest [Mountains Around Jerusalem / Issue 772]

Thank you for your Tempo story about the newlywed struggling to get used to life in Eretz Yisrael.

Yes, living here is a huge brachah that so many dream of.

Sometimes, it feels like a brachah. Halloween and December 25 pass by and you have no idea. Fridays feel like Erev Shabbos, and Sunday is a regular day. Yom Tov is in the air for weeks before. You live in a country where the majority of people are your people.

But sometimes it’s really hard. You wish you had a car. You wish the items in the grocery were familiar. You wish you could just call up your doctor and make an appointment in a language you speak. You wish you didn’t have to stand in line in front of Misrad Hapnim at 6:45 a.m.

I too dreamed of living here. Some boys I dated were much more complacent about living here than I was. I was the one everyone in seminary pointed to for the “will be living here in ten years” question. When my husband (who baruch Hashem wanted to come as badly as I did) and I moved here, we were living the dream. We contemplated whether or not we should keep one day of Yom Tov. And then I was met by a harsh reality of what real life is here. I’m thankful for it every day and know how lucky I am. But it’s really lonely, and I too often wonder what happens when Mount Everest just can’t be conquered.

Living in Yerushalayim for now

A Life of Privilege [Mountains Around Jerusalem / Issue 772]

Family First printed two pieces recently, a Lifetakes and a fiction story, both about the difficulties of living in Eretz Yisrael. It’s definitely true that Eretz Yisrael nikneis b’yissurim, and I don’t want to invalidate or minimize anyone else’s difficulties, but as an American living here for over 11 years, I wanted to share my perspective as well.

Is the bureaucracy infuriating sometimes? Yes. But do you get as stressed by it years down the line as when you first came? I don’t think so. Personally, at this point, when I have to deal with a government official, I’m always relived to deal with an Israeli; I know there’s a caring heart beneath the gruff exterior.

Is it hard to live away from family? Definitely, and Covid has only made it harder.

But there’s so much you gain from living in the King’s palace. While I haven’t tried raising children anywhere else, I really think there’s a purity that the children here have. (Hold the tirade, readers. I don’t have teens yet.) While most of us don’t have cars and do lots of walking and schlepping on busses, at the same time, life is more laidback. Most Americans living here aren’t working nine-to-five jobs (though they may be logging in long hours on the computer at night), and the afternoons in the park, while loooong, also bring us some of our warmest friendships.

While materialism is definitely around and kicking here, there’s still less. Outfitting your kids for Yom Tov (again, at least while they’re young!) doesn’t have to give you a migraine.

We may only make it to the Kosel as a family during Chanukah and summertime, but I still consider that an incredible privilege.

The weather is beautiful most of the year, the sky is that brilliant blue, and at the risk of eliciting eye-rolling, when I walk to work in the mornings, all these years in, there are definitely days I feel my heart sing.

May we all be reunited together here soon.

Name Withheld

We Are Warriors [SisterSchmooze / Issue 771]

Dear Marcia,

Well done for conquering so many new things after your husband’s petirah. You’re a real warrior.

I was in a very similar situation, with a husband who helped around in the house. I never had to worry about finances and bills. I barely knew the PIN number of our joint bank account.

But then Covid hit. Within two weeks my husband was gone. I was stunned at having been left by myself — we had only two children married, and quite a few more at home.

But Hashem in His infinite kindness helped me become resilient and taught me everything I needed to know. Losing a beloved spouse is not something I want to wish on anyone, but we do come out stronger and better. We know that Hashem is and always will be here for us and our children .

So I salute you from afar.

Keep strong. You and all of us in this situation are real warriors. May we have the strength to continue.

With admiration,

B. Loebenstein, Manchester, United Kingdom

Gifted [Sidekick / Issue 770]

I don’t know if anybody actually followed any of Esty Heller’s pretty zany ideas in her Chanukah Gift Giving Guide, but this faithful author sure did. Her surprise teen-niece-babysitter night out was a hit! Thanks, Esty, post-Chanukah parties are the best! (In principle, at least. We’re pretty partied out right now.)

But next time, Esty, don’t overexaggerate in your nonfiction pieces. We do check out your pantry; well, sometimes. On other occasions we check your freezer and fridge as well. So thanks a Cheerio!

Your treated nieces

Looking and Dreaming [Sidekick / Issue 770]

It’s interesting to read the different perspectives parents have on toy catalogs, and to hear from parents who rush to hide the catalogs before their kids discover the oh-so-glorious pages.

In our house, we rejoice when Chanukah time rolls around, and those marvelous toy catalogs come bundled with our weekly reading material. Our kids ogle the latest toys and gadgets and busily circle the ones they love best and wish they could have.

I sometimes even give my younger kids the weekly grocery catalogs so they can circle their favorite nosh and snacks.

I enjoy browsing home decor magazines, but (as a 40-plus mom) I know that though I wish my home looked like those in the spreads, and though I wish I could afford those stunning furniture pieces, I don’t expect these dreams to come true. Even so, I derive a simple pleasure just by looking through the pages and dreaming of the possibilities.

Every week I look at the beautiful recipes and food spreads in this very magazine and even go so far as to rip out a few. Even as I file away the recipe pages, I know that I (a simple cook with little time and patience for patchkedig cooking) will likely never make them.

But here’s the thing: Knowing that these dreams won’t likely come true does not take away from the pleasure I get from looking and dreaming. And what’s the harm in that?

Our kids are no different. I don’t think we should underestimate their thinking. They know that circling those toys won’t make them magically appear in our playroom. But just like I derive pleasure from those beautiful decor magazines, they too enjoy dreaming about those toys.

So, to the toy companies and catalog printers, thank you for providing my family with dreaming material. Keep ’em coming!

A mom who dreams big

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 773)