Fitting In

When I was younger, I fit in anywhere. I could instantly find friends anywhere. I had no pre-conceived notions about who would/wouldn't make a good friend. Boys were not "Icky." Girls were not pretentious. I could slap a coffee filter on a G.I. Joe figure to have him parachute from the third story window immediately after cuddling my Cabbage Patch doll.

I knew what I believed, but was happy to hear everyone else's views. Many Sunday mornings, after sleeping over at my best friend's, you could find me with her in her Lutheran Sunday school class. I went to Catholic school. At lunch, among friends, I debated the value of Yom Kippur vs. Catholic confession (9-year-old me was quite certain one day of fasting and coming to terms with G-d myself was much preferable to cowering in a confessional being judged by a priest and 30-something-year-old me still feels exactly the same way).

So many people fear public speaking. Not me. I love it. I'm comfortable in front of crowds. I wanted to be an actress. I'm a born leader and I enjoy (almost) every minute of it. The best compliment I ever received from my mother was when she asked, "Why did you never become a rabbi? You know all this stuff. You've always been a leader. You would have been good at it."

Now, though, I find it increasingly difficult to fit in. Among most of my friends, being Jewish makes us the odd ones out. With one group of fellow Yids, we're too observant. With others, we're not nearly observant enough. With some people, we're the wrong religion entirely and therefore not even a candidate for friend. I have to bite my tongue around some friends so as to not make political comments that I know will tick them off. Many of my friends are far older. A number of those have grown children, so when I'm exasperated by the toddler tantrums, my friends look at me like I have three heads and go back to helping their daughters' plan their weddings. Others are young and single and are equally baffled when the toddler tantrums or the kindergartner insists on wearing his Batman mask, bathing suit and not much else. They're too busy planning their road trip with friends (from which they will post ten THOUSAND pictures to Facebook) to hear my explanation.

So it's nice that we have finally managed to find a little space in the world where we've collected people with whom we feel comfortable. I can randomly bust into song and not only will no one stare, but some friends will actually JOIN IN and sing along. One or two might even grab their guitar or play along on the piano. And that, right there, makes all the slings and arrows in life so much more bearable.

"You meet people who forget you. You forget people you meet. But sometimes you meet those people you can`t forget. Those are your friends." --Dana Scully "the X-files"

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways (and eat the cookies).

My husband rocks. He has been on super daddy duty ever since I had the baby. I lost a lot of blood and was put on bedrest. He's home for 2 weeks to help. I'm not supposed to leave the bed/couch for much of anything. On the few occasions I've tried, I've gotten very tired and sore very quickly.

He's done all the laundry even though it has taken forever (again, please vote for us so we can get a new washer and dryer), he's taken the baby when she wakes up in the morning so I can get some more rest, he's handled the late night diaper changes, he's had to make all the meals, he's kept the kids corralled in the playroom so that I could rest, he's done all the running around, he's done all the food shopping, he's done all the cleaning. He's doing it all.

On Sunday, he went food shopping and came back with my favorite candy bar (remember, I was on the GD diet during pregnancy, so I wasn't able to have sweets). Later that day, I woke up to him handing me a cookie--a freshly baked cookie he made from my favorite cookie dough he secretly bought and not only did he bake the cookies for me, he even saved me some dough too (my favorite). Oh and he did all this while holding the baby so that I could get a nap.

I'm typing now with free hands because he's cuddling the baby.

We've been through some really rough times together, especially when he came home from deployments. So I'm particularly grateful to see this side of the man I love. I realize how truly blessed I am--how blessed we all are.

The wee one took pity on me and decided enough was enough. No more torture for the mama. Instead, WE HAVE A BABY.

She (yes SHE) was born last week. It's a girl--a gorgeous chubby little girl with wisps of hair and bright blue eyes.

She was born at home. No cutting me open this time. My body did it on its own. I pushed her out myself (with the midwife's help) and then reached down and grabbed her to pull her up to my chest. That was something I desperately wanted--to have my baby on my chest. Every other time, my babies were whisked away from me either in a rush to the NICU or just to another room so I could be put back together. I have never even held my children in their first hours. In that time, I was always lying flat on a table while doctors sewed or stapled me back together. This time, I wanted to know what it was like to have the baby immediately come from inside me and rest on my chest from the outside. I got just that and it was amazing.

Dh cut the cord. That's something he has never done before and something I always hoped he would. This time, he did.

There were many recitations of the Shehecheyanu. I said it over and over again. I can't tell you how many times I said, "Oh thank G-d." As has been the case with all my children, the first words I spoke to my daughter were the first few verses of the Sh'ma.

When it was over, dh and I went to bed--OUR bed together, the same bed where our youngest was born. I was on my side, he on his, the baby sleeping between us and we held hands and stared at her completely fixated and in love (with her, with each other, with life).

Our baby is here. She is healthy. She had the best possible entrance into the world. She helped fullfill so many dreams and hopes.

In all my life, I have never felt so powerful. I have never felt so in awe. I have never felt so thankful. I have never felt so close to G-d.

And the award for "Most Wonderful Husband on the Whole Freaking Planet" goes to...

my husband.

G-d bless that man!

When it was time to pick the kids up at Hebrew school, I was in the middle of an in depth phone conversation with a friend. Did my husband interrupt to tell me it was time to get the kids (I usually pick them up)? No. Did he roll his eyes, sigh and play the martyr? No. What did my wonderful husband do? He went to get them without a word so that I could finish my conversation.

The following day, when it was time to get them from dance class, I was once again on the phone deep in conversation with the same friend (I swear it's not a conspiracy). I had picked out a recipe I wanted to make for dinner, but didn't get to start. Dh found the magazine, figured out which recipe I was planning on, and started making dinner. When it was just about time to go get them, he mentioned it while he cooked. I got off the phone and asked him if he'd rather I went to get them or took over the cooking. He went with option A which was actually the easier of the two for me.

Remember, when it comes to Judaism, I'm the more traditional of the two of us. While we've been active at our current shul for a few years, dh hasn't gone to high holiday services there (the military had a way of always either deploying him during the high holidays or refusing to give him time off). This was his first year attending Rosh Hashanah services there and this shul expects men to wear tallit (women have the option as well). Dh has not worn tallit since his bar mitzvah. When I mentioned he'd need to wear them, he hopped online and found (and memorized) the blessing for doing so. Upon arriving at services, he couldn't quite figure it out. So when we dropped the kids off before services, he actually ASKED SOMEONE how to do it. Yes, a man was willing to ask for help. Aren't you shocked? And it was neat too. He asked an acquaintance of ours explaining, "It's been a very long time since I last did this." The guy said, "We're glad you decided to wear one today," and he went on to tell dh that he was, "Honored to be asked for help."

I, too, felt honored to be standing there next to him donned in tallit. We've been together over a decade and I've never seen him wearing tallit in person (I have seen the bar mitzvah photos). Aside from feeling privileged that he was willing to do it, I was in awe by the fact that he cared enough to do it for me even when I know it was awkward for him.

For these and so many more reasons, my husband definitely deserves an award of some sort. Oh and he also deserves my undying love and affection, but he already had that.

Awe-inspiring people

Have you ever been truly in awe of someone? There's so much stupidity around us, so when I find someone that amazes me (in a good way, not in a "Oh my stars and garters, these people have actually reproduced" way), I hold it dear.

About a year ago, I got back in touch with an old friend. In high school, we were just acquaintances. We had AP Physics together and he was nice, but we never hung out. I ran into him at a rest stop on my way back to college (we both went to school out of state--the same state, different schools) on more than one occasion and we stopped to chat then moved on.

Well, now he's a doctor, a pediatrician. And what is he doing with his time and talents? He's touring truly underprivileged places in the world providing care at his own cost. He's not advertising this fact as a way to get attention. He only mentioned it when I wrote to ask.

When my cousin passed away last year, this friend wrote me a quick note that was very sweet. I was truly touched. He didn't have to do that. We hadn't really kept in touch. Heck, I didn't even tell him about my cousin. He found out indirectly and went out of his way to write.

Mind you, we were never romantically linked, so don't get the wrong idea. He's a newlywed (his wife is gorgeous. They make such a cute couple) and I've been happily married for a long time. So it's nothing of that sort.

I'm just amazed at the person he has become. He's the type of person that you sometime doubt exists. To know that there are truly kind-hearted people out there really helps renew my faith in humanity. If you need a definition of mensch, he fits it perfectly.

These are the people in your neighborhood.

The whole blogging thing is insane. I often find myself thinking about or praying for people I know only through the world of blogs. I have never met these people. I will probably never meet these people, yet I'm interested in their lives.

I don't have a huge circle of bloggity friends like some other bloggers I know, but there are people out there that have struck a chord with me for one reason or another.

So when I made an attempt to get caught up with the gaggle of blogs contained in my Google Reader and I found this post at the Feminist Breeder, I felt absolutely giddy. I've never met her. I don't even know that much about her. I can't even remember how I came across her blog initially.

Yet, whenever she updated, I checked her pregnancy ticker to get an idea of how much longer she had. When I saw she updated and that she had a successful VBAC, I was absolutely thrilled. When I read she had to go into mama mode to fight the staff to do it, I felt both awful for the treatment and proud that she didn't let herself get taken advantage of.

It's a very odd thing. I don't really know this woman. I've never met her. I don't know that I ever will. Yet I hoped and prayed for a good experience for her and now that I know she had one, I'm absolutely ecstatic for her.

She's not the only one. There are other bloggers out there that I often wonder about. Sometimes, something in my day will remind me of them--remind me of people I've never met. In some cases, these are people who grew up in my old stomping ground. Some actually live near me. I may have passed them on the highway, yet I know them only through the updates they post on their blog. Some live far far away from my little corner of the world, yet I feel connected to them. That connection was initiated by a series of words let loose on the internet.

How odd that something seemingly so simple can have that effect! How wonderful and heartbreaking that we as humans are wired to work in such a fabulous fashion!

During high holidays once, our former rabbi pointed out how technology can isolate people. He used the examples of those who become so tangled in their video games or e-mail that they forget a real world exists. He also pointed out how technology can bring people together. He used a specific example of members of a message board banding together to donate money to help a fellow member whose son became suddenly ill.

I'm often aghast at how vicious people can be online. What in the world makes people think they can say the things they do? Why would people post some of the horrible insults they throw at others online?

How we use technology is up to us. It can help us repair the vessel, or it can be the hammer we use to destroy it.

The tool it becomes is completely up to us.

For me, it's super glue and I find the phenomenon bizarrely amazing.

Thursday Thirteen: 13 things I sent my husband

My husband was active duty military until very recently. The first time the military took him away from me (which was before the September 11th attacks), I made him a little box filled with trinkets to remind him of home. That box now lives in our son's room, but ever since I started doing these TT's, I've wanted to post about that box. Today, I have my chance.




Thirteen Things I sent my husband


1..... A ruby slipper earring to remind him, "There's no place like home."






2..... A shell we collected from the beach when we got married. He was gone for our anniversary, so I sent him that to remind him that I'd be thinking of him on that day even if we couldn't be together.









3.....Oh the foreshadowing! This is actually a pin I had from Operation Desert Storm. I included this to remind him that he was always on my mind. I had no idea that the future held another "War" and more deployments to frightening places.






4.....Corny as hell, I know, but I sent him a key because he had the key to my heart.








5.....I sent him this star to remind him that I made wishes for him on stars all the time.









6.....I did this drawing back in middle school. It was actually done on a book cover. I always liked it, so I saved it all these years. I sent it to him to remind him that I missed him.








7.....This is an angel earing I had. I sent it to him to remind him that I was praying for him.








8.....(not pictured) It's no longer in the box, but at the time, I included a burnt match that I had used to light the shabbas candles in his absence. I explained in the letter sent with the box that it was also a promise of the shabbas candles we would once again light together in the future.

The rest are fortunes we had saved which I included in the box. They're not pictured, but I'll share the text.

9.....You make people realize that there exist other beauties in the world.

10.....You have the ability to adapt to diverse situations.

11.....Good luck bestows upon you. You will get what your heart desires.

12.....Follow your heart's desire.

13.....Stop searching forever. Happiness is just next to you.

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Two little words that can change your life.

Did you say, "Thank you," today?

I try to say it, but I realize I don't say it nearly enough. The next time someone thanks you, stop and think about what it really means. Don't think of it as a trite phrase, realize that it means someone has recognized you and they appreciate what you have done. When you realize that, maybe you'll use it more. Make sure you thank those around you. You never know what it might do for them. I can't find it now, but recently, I came across a postcard at Post Secret where someone admitted to wanting to kill him/herself, but nice strangers kept him/her from doing it. Someone else wrote in to say he/she was in the same situation.

To my husband who agreed to run around with us today even though he's sick, Thank you.

to the man who works the window at Starbucks even though he's deaf (he handles the face-to-face stuff at the window). Thank you for giving me the opportunity to show my children what people with disabilities CAN do. I hear so often, "He/she can't do that because he/she is disabled." It's wonderful to have a real-life example where I have the opportunity to show the kids that people have far more abilities than disabilities. Oh and thanks for signing with me (without laughing at my feeble attempt) even though I know my ASL skills are lacking.



Thank you to my big kids for all their help. Sometimes, I want to sell you on e-bay, but more often than not, I'm floored at how much you love each other and what you're willing to do to help out with your little brother.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU to my friends who were not only there for me when I needed it, but who even provided tchochkis great conversation and wine.

THANK YOU to 2 of the aforementioned friends who not only stepped up, but jumped at the chance to help when I had to go out of state for a funeral and dh couldn't get off work. We were frantic and had no clue what we were going to do, but two of my friends (including one who really didn't know me that well) watched the girls all day for 2 days. I will be forever in their debt. We have yet to come up with a proper way to thank them. If anyone has ideas, please let me know.

To that cashier at the store who let my daughters use the "Private. Employees Only" bathroom, thank you so very much.

To that teenage girl who raced after me in the mall in order to give me back my son's brand new and oh so adorable sweat shirt that had fallen, thank you. I hope I got across how much I appreciated it, but I'm afraid I didn't.

Thank you to a specific teacher friend who jumped at the chance to help me out with a reading question even though the two siblings I have who are teachers never responded.

Thank you to my niece who is absolutely wonderful and who is NOT insane. That's always a plus in our family even if it is rare.

To those who provide fodder for my funny bone as well as my deeper thoughts through their blogs, thank you. I'm constantly checking my Google Reader to see who has updated today. I admit that there are a specific few who always make my heart skip a beat when I see they've updated. Most of these people, I have never met, yet I eagerly follow along with their lives and their thoughts. Thank you for taking time from your day to blog. Whether your blog entry consists of a humorous account of those around you or an in-depth discussion of all things spiritual, I really do appreciate it. Sometimes, something you write inspires me to think differently or do something I never considered before. The fact that someone across the country or across the world can write something and create a change in me is astounding. Thank you.

To whomever created Frappaccinos, thank you.

To my sister and another friend who went above and beyond and took me to the amazing chocolate shoppe I've been wanting to try and then wouldn't let me pay for my order, thank you.

To my son who potty trained earlier than everyone insisted was possible, THANK YOU. Let me repeat that, THANK YOU.

Thank you so much to a friend's mother who, nearly a decade later, still raves about my wedding even when our own families hated it because it was so "different." And thank you to that friend for relaying that conversation.

Thank you to Kamrin for oh so much. From introducing me to the concept of simplifying, to always being there for others even when struggling through so much yourself, thank you.

I don't always appreciate the way my mother parented and I'm making different decisions for our family, but she was a strong female role model who helped shape my Feminist thinking. Thank you.

Thanks to my dad for being friends with everyone. Sure, sometimes it's embarassing when he insists on trying to speak what little bit of another language he knows (and loudly--oh so very loudly), but I think his openness and lack of fear towards others was a wonderful example for us to see growing up.

Thank you to the local radio station for offering free tickets to a kids' show and thank you to my husband for humoring me and calling on his cell phone even though I was already calling at the same time (I didn't win the tickets. He did).

I could do this forever, but instead, I'll end with a challenge. Make sure you thank at least one person every day--be truly thankful, don't just use the phrase in passing. Make a point of noticing when someone says, "Thank you," to you as well. Don't just brush it off. Realize that they're telling you how much they appreciate you.

“Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart”-Kahlil Gibran

I've always thought my kids were cute. I'm their mom. I'm supposed to. It's natural.

Every once in a while, though, I'm struck by how stunningly beautiful they are.

There were times when I nursed TheBoy that I stared into his gorgeous eyes and just got lost. There I was nourishing his body, his soul and those wonderful trusting eyes stared up at me with such innocence and such love.

I had similar moments with my girls. Babies are at their most beautiful when they're at the breast. You see those sweet chubby cheeks bouncing and those big gorgeous eyes staring up at you brimming with contentment and love. With my twins, though, their first interactions with each other were at the breast. For the longest time, they didn't seem to realize they were separate beings. They never showed a conscious awareness of the other one. Then, one day, while I nursed them both on either side, one reached over and grabbed the other one's hand. Their gazes shifted from me to each other. While they continued to nurse, they flailed their little arms reaching out for the other.

Over the past few days, I've been overwhelmed by my children's beauty.

I recently got some pictures of them that I just adore. I looked at the photographs and was shocked by how gorgeous they are. I always thought they were cute, but I've gotten lost in those pictures and I've been left wondering, "When did you grow into such beautiful beings?"

Today, we went to story time and I was struck by it once again. The big kids made such a point of helping their little brother without ever being asked. They treated him so gently and so motherly. I have two sisters who have spent their entirely lives trying to physically injure each other, so I'm particularly thankful for and in awe of the connections I see between my children.

Earlier this morning, TheBoy took something that belongs to Girl1. I held my breath and waited for the eruption, but rather than scream at him, she spoke very sweetly to him and she let him have it without a fight.

I've made a point of pulling the big kids aside today to tell them how proud I am of them. And I am. They're absolutely gorgeous, both inside and out. I'm so very grateful for and so much in awe of them.

I'm lame, but this is my idea of quality time.

The Parents Bloggers Network wants to hear about how families play together. I got to thinking about it and realized I'm pretty lame and this might make me seem kinda lazy, but hey, here's what we do.

Around 4 or so in the afternoon, I tend to just get exhausted and exasperated, so I round up the wee ones and head into my room. I lay down and they play on my bed. They ride on my back and I'll shake back and forth usually pretending to be a car. The kids even yell, "Go go, Gadget car." No, they've never seen Inspector Gadget. I'm just a dork.

The other day, The Boy even sat on my back and yelled, "Go go!" The big kids love it. It's their chance to play, but they also see that their brother is learning from them. He yelled that because he heard them do it. They're also taking that time to teach him to jump, pretend he's a train and be all around obnoxious, but very cute while doing it. He adores his sisters and just loves the attention. They love the thought of having a potential partner in crime. I can just imagine what they must whisper to each other in the night, "Dude, we managed to destroy 80-year-old heirloom book cases, shove stuff up our noses and eat through DVD boxes when there were only two of us. Imagine the havoc we can wreak with three."

They also like it 'cause it's time with me. I don't even have to do anything other than talk to them, but they lap it up. They just love being on my bed (or in a train, or a space ship or whatever my bed is to them that day), bouncing around and chatting with me.

When they were tiny, my very favorite part of the day was the morning. Let me tell you, I'm a night person and I have insomnia, so you know mornings had to be extraordinary if they were my favorite. Back then, The Boy slept with us and when he woke up, I'd sign, "Milk," and he'd get super excited. I LOVED his huge grins with the chubby legs and arms flailing. So we'd call the big kids in while the baby nursed. They'd climb in bed with us. We didn't know an exact date, but we knew dh would be leaving before too long, so we really clung to that time. We never did anything other than hang out, but I loved it. It was the whole family together.

When dh deployed, our mornings became even more important to me. Even if I was utterly exhausted because I didn't get any freaking sleep, when I saw the kids cuddling together and heard them giggling, it made me feel a bit better. I'm not saying laughter is the equivalent of a Mocha Frappacino with an extra shot of espresso, but it helps.

The Boy moved out of our bed before his first birthday, though (his choice, not mine). So now the only time I get to cuddle with all the kids is in bed in the late afternoon.

I don't have to plan anything. I don't have to stock up on supplies. I don't have to do cartwheels to keep them entertained. We're all just there together and I like it that way.

Now the disclaimer:
This post is brought to you in conjunction with Parent Bloggers Network & EA’s Wii-Boogie, a family gaming experience. Shake it. Sing it. Create it.

Another benefit of breastfeeding: Breastmilk contains sanity

I've been feeling kind of numb. I haven't left the house. Haven't been to the gym in over a week (remember, I was there every day, 6 days a week and I usually go nuts if I have to miss even one day). I haven't felt much like dealing with the kids. I haven't done any school work with them (although, in an attempt to shut the bigger ones up, I gave them some work sheets to do by themselves yesterday).

So, today, I am especially grateful to be a breastfeeding mom.

When I got The Boy this morning, he immediately signed, "Milk please." I sighed because I really didn't want to. Reluctantly, I sat down on the couch, turned on the t.v. and nursed the baby. I was initially ignoring him and just flipping through news channels (I don't like Larry King in the evening hours. Why the hell does Headline News think I want to see him and his outdated guests in the morning? Dude, your channel is called "Headline NEWS." News is right there in the title. Quit showing all these idiotic commentators and their ridiculous shows and just give me my freaking news).

Then, I happened to get a whiff of the top of the baby's head. Luckily, he had a bath last night, so instead of that day-old spaghetti smell, it was that sweet baby scent. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. I noticed it calmed me down and made me feel better.

I turned off the t.v. and continued to sit there and sniff my son. For some reason, he wanted to nurse for a while and he asked to switch sides a few times. Normally, I would have been annoyed, but today, I didn't mind at all.

While nursing him, I noticed his sisters were playing pretend with their stuffed animals. So I started asking questions and talking to them about their pretend ice cream party with the 4-year-old panda bear and the 19-year-old giraffe who is training to be an astronaut.

When The Boy was done, he got down off the couch, flashed me a big grin and walked away.

A little while later, I said the Sheheheyanu quietly to myself so as to thank G-d for giving me the gift of breastfeeding and for allowing me to recognize the quiet beauty and serenity in the moment, in the act, in the children, and in myself.

Random link Friday

That is one of the cutest things I've ever seen. Watch all the way to the end. When you think it can't get any cuter, it does.

I also came across the remix version:

Feel the love.

I must take this moment to rave about just how very much I love my husband and my kids.

I wound up going to the ER as soon as dh came home last Thursday. What started out as a bothersome ankle became very painful. It got to the point where I couldn't walk on it at all. So we all headed to the ER. No broken bones (woo hoo), but I had soft tissue damage in my ankle and in my foot. I went home with an oh so fashionable orthopedic shoe and a pair of crutches oh and some pain medication. Can't forget the pain medication. I tend to scorn much of Western medicine, but bless them and their pain meds.

My husband is the most wonderful man in the world. Our house is designed for tiny little people (I'm not just talking about the kids), so trying to get crutches to fit through doorways, hallways, and around furniture was not fun. My amazing dh not only brought me whatever I needed, but he wrangled all three kids. Without being asked, he took off from work on Friday because he realized (long before I did) that I couldn't take care of the kids when I couldn't even pick The Boy (who isn't yet walking) up. Dh didn't complain once. I adore my husband.

And now we move on to my kids. I must say thank you, Irim, for your lovely compliment the other day. That really made me step back and realize that even though my kids have a tendency to drive me nuts, they are very sweet and very polite. We went out the other day and dh got annoyed with them over something. I told him, "Someone on the blog commented on how polite they are and you know what? They really are. We need to remember that." He agreed and wasn't nearly as annoyed with them as he had been.

Yesterday, they came home from Sunday school with a note from their teacher. The girls have homework. They discussed the things you find in a Jewish home. So we're to take them on a tour of the Jewish items in our home and they're to bring one in to class next week. We went on a tour and they have some ideas for what they want to bring (I'm going to cheat. In addition to whatever they pick, I'm sending them with their Mizpah necklaces. The Mizpah means "Watch-tower." It's taken from Genesis: May the L-rd watch between me and thee when we are apart from another." I said that prayer when dh was gone before we had kids, I said it when the girls were in the NICU and I taught it to the girls and we said it every night in dh's absence. They got their necklaces at their naming ceremony when they were tiny).

After our tour, I asked them, "What is the most important thing in a Jewish home? What is in our house that REALLY lets people know we're Jewish?" Girl1 blew me away when she answered, "G-d." I was thinking, "The people," but you know what, I like her answer even better. I made sure to tell her that and then we discussed how the people are important too and how our behavior is important because we reflect G-d.

Oh and on that note, I want to share this discussion with you. The girls left me a struggling a bit the other day. In the car, they asked, "How do we hear G-d? Because we can't hear what He's saying." I was taken aback, but I told them that we don't really need to hear Him with our ears. His words are in the Torah and by learning Torah, we can learn what He wants us to do. Then, we can hear him in our hearts because we know how He wants us to behave. Girl2 protested, "But I can't read Hebrew. So I can't read the Torah. Then I can't hear G-d." I explained that they're learning Torah every day. When they share and play nicely, they're learning Torah because they're learning that's what G-d wants them to do. When they go to Sunday school and they learn about shul, Hebrew, and our ancestors, all those things are found in Torah. When we say prayers, those are all from the Torah. Once I explained that, they were quite pleased with themselves for being so very smart. :-)

I love my kids. They may leave me exhausted, but they also leave me giggling, beaming with pride, and in awe.