What a week it's been

I threw a tantrum today. Like a 2 year old, I stomped my feet, screamed and cried. And for something a 2 year old would cry. I was making breakfast and the yolk of my fried egg burst and I screamed, went mad crazy and cried. And I blamed my poor husband who wasn't even in the kitchen. I blamed him for not being in the kitchen, because he makes better fried eggs than I do and had he been in the kitchen this would not have happened, so clearly, it was all his fault. And he was graceful. He took the spatula and finished breakfast while I sat there on the kitchen table. And you know what? I guess it's ok to lose it every once in a while and it's ok to be vulnerable. Because we are all going through a really tough time, one of those tough times kids will learn about in history class 100 years from now, and we all need to cope in whatever way works for us, and sometimes, that means others in our family need to be the adult while the other one cries like a baby.


This has been a tough week. Not for me, for the world. And while it does make it better knowing we are all on the same boat, because the level of sympathy and understanding is great, it sucks that we are all living through this. It sucks that there is no visible end on the horizon. Every time the President gives a press conference it's to strengthen the rules of the lockdown. And the numbers keep rising. We've been cooped up for a week and the numbers are still rising! An entire neighborhood in our city is under quarantine, the streets were sprayed down with some kind of disinfectant, the streets are empty, the stores are closed, and the numbers keep rising.


This whole situation feels surreal. The last week is a blur. I don't even know what day of the week it is as I shower every morning only to change into a clean pair of sweats. But I also realize how lucky I am and how much I have to be grateful for. And maybe in times like this we need to lower our standards of the things we are grateful for. So here's my list, low standards and all:

• I'm grateful for the opportunity to live in a country where the government is taking strong measures to contain the pandemic before it's too late.
• I'm thankful that the people I get to be locked in with don't drive me up the wall.
• I'm grateful that I finally got to see the bottom of both my laundry baskets.
• I'm grateful for the walks around the block we are still allowed to take (as long as we are 2 meters apart from other people we may encounter on the road)
• I'm grateful for cake and cookies. Because in times like this, a little sweet can go a long way.
• I'm thankful for not having to wear jeans, because I don't think they'd button with all the crap I've been eating.
• I'm grateful for the extra hour of sleep now that there is no school drop off and commute.
• I'm grateful for my job, because not only do I have work to do that keeps me busy and my mind occupied, but because the company has been incredibly understanding of the fact that with kids around and anxiety lurking, we may not be able to work the same way we normally do.
• I'm thankful for being able to manage my expectations and for not letting incomplete to-do lists and not-followed kids' schedules drive me nuts.
• I'm thankful that my gel nails are still decent on their 4th week and my gray hair is not too noticeable.
• I'm thankful for electronics. TV, iPads, phones. Because they keep us connected to the world out there, sure, but mostly because they sedate our kids so that we can have a little quiet.
• I'm thankful for the memes. Oh, so many funny memes. Because nothing brings out the funny in people like a big crisis.

So yeah, sometimes, to survive and to keep our sanity, we need to lower our standards. So I'm not thankful for fancy restaurants, elaborate trips, luxury travels, or pretty clothes. I'm thankful for the little things, and for now, those are the things that make me happy.

TriAliyaversary

Three years! That's right! It's been three years since we packed up our home into a 20ft container and shipped our two kids, our dog, our lives and our dreams all the way across the Atlantic. 

It doesn't feel like three years. It feels like a blink of an eye and like we've been here forever all at the same time. 

It's been three years of a true acclimation. Our first year felt like a vacation. Like we lived here, but looking at Israel through the glass. Our second year, we dipped our toes in the water. We felt comfortable enough to call this place home, yet still trying to figure out how to fit in this crazy puzzle of a society. Today, three years after we stepped off of that charter flight to the sound of Israeli music and the smell of the desert and the sea, we have truly immersed ourselves in israeliut. Our kids speak Hebrew amongst them, we have jobs in israeli companies and have israeli friends, we've travelled the width and length of our country, we volunteer. We've lived through peace and through war. We've made it home and we've made this home.  

My grandfather was the ultimate zionist. He was born here and he moved with his parents to Colombia when he was a child. When he was 18, he came back to fight in the war of independence. He would be thrilled to see his grand daughter live here so happily. 

Today, three years after having gotten off of that El-Al flight with our pockets filled with hopes and dreams, we've turned those dreams into reality and i can say, without the shadow of a doubt, that this is it. This is where we are meant to be

Not even chocolate is safe anymore!

And here I thought my Hebrew was great. I mean, I took Ulpan for six months, I have been in this country for two and a half years and other than cursing and holding a good fight in Hebrew (there is nothing like sending someone off to hell in your native language-good thing the finger is universal), I can hold my own. 

There was a time when I would go out with my friends and they would be speaking Hebrew and I would think to myself "wow, I understand everything" and then they would all laugh at something and I would think "maybe NOT everything". That's not the case anymore. I now laugh at their jokes!

I had a parent/teacher activity at my daughter's gan (kindergarten) the other day and once again, my self-confidence in my Hebrew abilities took a nose dive. The teacher had all the parents sit in a circle and started passing around a box of chocolates. In my book, anything that involves chocolate is a good thing. Little did I know my faith in chocolate would also be tested that day. The individually wrapped chocolates had each a Hebrew word written on the wrapper. Health, luck, success... we were instructed to each take a chocolate and use the word written on it to express that feeling to our kid in this year of gan and say why we had chosen that word. The box started making its way through the parents and by the time it got to me, only a handful of chocolates were left. I quickly scanned the box and guess what? no idea what the words in the chocolates that were left meant! all of a sudden, in a moment of panic the words "hatzlaha" jumped in front of my eyes! not my first choice of a wish to my daughter, but hey, between that and sigsug (?) I went for the safe bet.

"I want to wish my daughter lots of success in this year of gan. She has accomplished so much in this short 3 years of life. She has lived in two countries, learned three languages, been in two schools and I want to wish her lots and lot of success... and I chose "success"  because it was the only word left that I understood" Thanks goodness for Israelis good sense of humor. They all burst out laughing. 

A Mover and a Shaker

If you've been following my blog or my endeavors on Facebook, you know I have a new-ish job. A fabulous job I am super happy with. I get to write for a living, which I love, and the high-tech company I work for is very very cool (game room with air hokey, ping pong table, xbox and beer tap in the kitchen bar kind of cool).

Anyways, a few weeks ago, the editor of one of the industry publications sent me an e-mail. The first few lines read something like "Hi Yael, happy New Year. We are working on a series of articles on movers and shakers in the industry and would love to interview you..."  What??? I thought to myself, this guy hasn't seen me drunk and dancing, which is truly the only time in which I may consider myself a mover or a shaker... but I guess I am a mover and shaker.

So we did the interview and I wanted to share the link with you, because I am so very proud of it and I figure there is nothing wrong with bragging a bit :)

http://financefeeds.net/movers-shakers-next-up-is-yael-warman/

A working mom or a mother who works

Pretty much my entire professional life I had been a mother who worked. I had owned my own businesses and had the challenges that come with it, as well as the flexibility to see my kids dance on stage at school presentations on a Tuesday morning and take them to soccer practice and art class. I had the best of both worlds: the excitement and stimulation of a career and the opportunity to put my family first, without having to make difficult choices.

When we made aliyah, I knew I didn't want to keep doing the same thing I had been doing in Miami and knowing that aliyah is the perfect opportunity to reinvent oneself and begin from scratch on a clean slate, I started pursuing my hobbies (writing and photography), in hopes that they would lead me to a comfortable income. As the second year after our aliyah ended, I got the opportunity to write for a living. Not just writing as a hobby and getting paid a few bucks for it, but to actually have a job as a writer. I was hired by a high-tech firm as their content manager.

I had never really worked in a corporate environment before and I've been dazzled by the corporate perks and offices in tall towers overlooking Tel Aviv where desks share space with game rooms and cool Google-wannabe incentives. I have also discovered, however, what it means to be not a mother who works, but rather a working mother. I have come to know closely, the struggles a mother faces when having to decide between missing their son's performance at school or meeting a client. I've come to know too well, the mother who comes home tired and still finds the strength to sit on the floor to play with her kids, make dinner (even if just a quick omelette, which on most days is all she can handle), and read a bedtime story.

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. I love coming to work every day. I am loving this new working mother side of me. I just have acquired a new-found respect for this breed of superwoman. I recently became part of a group called Ima Kadima, who supports working mothers in Israel. Last Friday, the women from my city got together for breakfast and I had the honor to address them and share some ideas from a book I had been reading called Getting to 50/50. I wanted to share the words I shared with them last Friday with all of you, so if you are a working mom out there, maybe this will inspire you in some way...

"When a lot of us were younger, we went to college, some pursued a master’s degree, we started a career and gave it our all. We started to climb up the corporate ladder. We got married and it was all great, both husband and wife having a striving career and then one day, you decide you want to start a family and after your maternity leave, when it is time to go back to work, you look at your little baby and ask yourself “how am I going to leave this little creature?” and you hear everyone around you asking how will your little one do without you, won’t they need you too much, and so you are led to think you may need to “opt-out” from a career.

Studies show that although women outperform men academically, the picture dramatically changes in the corporate environment, when less than 15% of board seats and senior executive positions are occupied by women and 85% of leaders in most fields are men. This isn’t because women are less capable or talented, but rather because society has this stigma that we are the ones who need to sacrifice our careers in order to raise a family.

Society believes men can have a successful career and a fulfilling personal life, but we are led to believe that as women, that is difficult at best and often impossible.

In most households, it is the woman who has to spend less time at the office so she can make pick up in time, it is the woman who spends her weekends in a marathon against time to do the grocery shopping, errands, laundry, etc.

Add that to the mental struggle you face when you see a flyer that says “story time every Monday at 11am”. How in the world will you ever make that? You think to yourself “Is my kid missing out because I’m a working mom?” Then comes the day when the staff meeting started 45 minutes late and you now have to choose between being late to the little league game or looking unprofessional at work. So one day you think to yourself, “does my salary even cover day care? Should I just be a SAHM?”

But before you start thinking whether you can make do without your income, think of a different alternative, one that involves you and your husband, your partner in life, your ally, to share the load equally. We strive for gender equality at work, but not at home. According to recent data, when a husband and wife both have full-time jobs, the woman still does about 40% more childcare and 30% more housework than her husband does. If we strive to get an equal share of labor at home, then we as women may not need to choose between a successful career and a fulfilling personal life either. There should come the day in which you get to the little league game 45 minutes late, just as your son is ready to bat, and your husband holds your hand and says “don’t worry, I got here early”.

But for your husband to be able to work less, you need to begin to work more.

When women quit their jobs, the repercussions go way beyond an economic impact. It reinforces the women’s second-class position in the workforce and dad’s second-class position in the family. The benefits of both parents working equally outside the home and sharing equal responsibility of housework and children duty far exceed the benefits of one parent staying home.

Research shows that couples who share work and family loads equally enjoy as much as a 50% lower risk of divorce. Couples win when they can stand in each other’s shoes. Men, the fathers of our children, can excel at parenting just as much as we do and when we can see them as equals in the parenting tasks, we don’t feel as though we are facing the parenting challenges alone. Mothers work with less guilt, fathers bond more with their kids and children benefit from the attention of two equally involved parents.

A study based on the richest data ever collected and performed by the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development in 2006 gathered 1364 kids over a period of 15 years concluded unambiguously that kids with 100% maternal care fared no better than those who spend time in child care, which included all types of non-maternal care. The study concluded that childcare is not what parents should worry about, but how they parent should be. Kids in high-quality child care had higher cognitive language skills than other kids including those with at-home moms. Furthermore, you should remember that your child’s time in child-care is short-lived, whereas your time as a parent lasts forever. How you behave as a parent is what makes the difference in your child’s cognitive and emotional development. Stop worrying about who you are leaving your children with, worry about what happens the moment you and your husband get home.

A couple who has only one bread winner has more stress believe it or not. If you stay at home, you’re likely to take on more family work and your husband is less likely to be home in time for dinner, something you’ll begin to resent. Being the sole breadwinner is also stressful. A husband needs to decide between calling one last client or racing home for bedtime and when he is the sole breadwinner, he may think the kids don’t need him that night and stay in the office later. When both husband and wife share the load of bringing money in, the stress is divided, a husband may have the opportunity to find a better job or a more fulfilling job because he is not being forced to stay where he is at at the risk of losing the one income.

Now, most of us here have little kids. We get those notes from school about the kids having to be dressed in a blue tshirt for the next day when they don’t own a blue tshirt and we go into chaos. But consider this: blue tshirts and permission slips will be over before you know it and when your kids are older, having a working mother who can teach them about finance or management in addition to teaching them how to sow or bake will prove invaluable. "

Aliyaversary #2

Two years ago we embarked in this crazy adventure. We left friends and family in search of a more meaningful life. We left the comforts of a big house in order to find our home. We exchanged hamburgers for falafel. In two years we've learned a language, we've made new friends, we've been through war, we've traveled the country in every direction. We've seen the red and arid desert and in the same day we've dipped our toes in the ocean, that's how magical this land is. In two short years we've accomplished so much, yet we are just getting started. One thing i can say though, without the shadow of a doubt, and that is: we are home. 

Thanks churri (Ivan) for getting this crazy idea of moving into your head (and mine). What an incredible adventure it has been.

Jewish Mother Paranoia

I’ve always felt like I can’t be like the ostrich and hide my head in the sand. Things happen and you are better off knowing about them so you can be aware. Whether you decide to let it bother you and sacrifice your sanity, that’s up to you, but not wanting to know about it is like wanting to hide the sun with your hands.

A few weeks ago I posted an article about secondary drowning on a mother’s Facebook group. I had recently been reading a lot about it and with summer here, I thought it best to help other mothers be aware of the existence of secondary drowning and of its symptoms. The first comment on my post was a mother saying we should not read this kind of article, that all they do is scare us. Other mothers immediately started weighing in saying we need to be aware of this and it is serious stuff. I was confident in my belief that you are better off being informed and that I would not let knowledge drive me paranoid and so I went about my business. Until yesterday that is.

I took both my kids to the pool, like I typically do a few times a week. We all love it and by the time we get home, they have swam like fish, eaten like tigers and so they sleep like bears. What’s not to love? My son is 7 years old and has been swimming since he is 4 months old and although I do watch him, he really does not need much of my attention, unlike my 2 year old, whose daredevil personality will have her jump into the depths of the unknown at the first chance she gets. So there we are, in the shallow part of the pool, my daughter sitting on the steps and my son doing rolls in the water. He asked me for help doing a handstand, so taking my daughter off the steps and farther away from the edge of the pool, I proceeded to help my son hold his feet up as he dove into the bottom of the pool to stand on his hands. I grabbed both his ankles and he wiggled away, so I let go only to watch him come out of the pool coughing. I DROWNED MY OWN CHILD! I thought in horror. Having had read one too many articles about secondary drowning, I freaked out. Despite having swallowed water myself as a kid on more than one occasion, despite having played “let’s drown each other” with the cousins while growing up, images of my imminent trip to TEREM (emergency room) invaded my head. For the proceeding half hour or so, as my son continued to roll and dive to collect objects from the bottom of the pool, i kept alert to signs of vomiting, coughing, excessive tiredness. Every time my son coughed my heart skipped a beat.  I asked him to tell me if he felt tired and after swimming to the other end of the pool and back, he came to me and said “mom, I’m tired, but I think it’s because I just swam a lot”. I meant tired as in sleepy god damn it! stop scaring me so much. As I looked at his purple lips, wondering if it was just the cold water or perhaps a symptom of secondary drowning not mentioned by the article I had read, I realized that “Jewish mother worry” had possessed me, and for that, unfortunately, there is no cure.