**Religion

I understand that religion is very important to some people. I GET that. I don't GET, however, that a lot of people (whom religion is important to) have a hard time grasping that not all people are like them. To me, religion is not important. It is not important to my husband either, and the majority of our friends don't have religion (whatever it may be) play a big role in their lives. My husband and I are of different religions, but I truly believe that even if that were NOT the case, we still would be raising our children with the same amount of religious intent.

I was raised in a home that never hosted religious gatherings - we would only be guests at them. We never went to a place of worship, never ate the foods our religion said we should. We observed one or two holidays loosely, but that was the extent of it. My brother went to religious school but that was only because there was no junior kindergarten in the public system at that point, there was in Hebrew school, and my dad passed away right after his JK year, so in order to avoid more trauma of moving schools after a boy lost his dad, my mom kept him in Hebrew school until grade three. I went to Sunday Hebrew school (one hour a week) for about 6 months and I hated it so much and had a teacher that kept vodka in her thermos, so I was taken out of it.

My brother had a Bar Mitzvah which my mother hated every second of because of the amount of stress involved with putting it together, she spent the whole "party" angry at someone or another, and she never even got around to picking the pictures from the photographer that we liked, so we all we're left with are the proofs in a box in a closet, having paid for albums and enlargements. How is that supposed to make me want to do that for my son?

It is Passover right now - a holiday where you're not supposed to eat bread (among other things). In our multicultural area we have learned about lots of other religions and ethnicities, and like to share ours with our friends as well. Everyone knows I'm Jewish but am not observant, and as a kind gesture a friend brought over a Passover dessert to a dinner party this weekend. I thought this to be incredibly thoughtful and respectful. I told my mom how nice it was of this family to do this. Her response was "I really hope you didn't tell them that you don't keep Passover!". I told her that they well know we don't keep Passover (as we ate hamburgers - with buns - for dinner) and that wasn't the point - it was the thoughtfullness. Her reply? "When your kids go to Hebrew school, you'd better at least not eat bread at Passover!" My reply "Why would my kids go to Hebrew school? I never did." Big error on my part. "Because they're Jewish! Isn't your son going to have a Bar Mitzvah?!" This is the question I have been anticipating for a while now. The answer has always been no, always will be no, and I'm pretty sure she has known that deep down but refuses to admit it. I said the N-word. No.

Silence.

More silence.

"Hello??"....

"Well that's really sad. I'm not going to argue with you right now" Click.

I am fully aware that this is probably devastating for her. She is probably blaming it on the fact that I married a non-Jew. It is NOT the case. These things are not important to us. It is important that my kids have the same religious identity that I was brought up with - the memories and fun we had at the holidays when we got together with all our cousins and made lots of noise while my grandfather read stuff in Hebrew that we had no idea what it meant, lighting Chanukah candles and singing the prayers, and doing the same amount for Daddy's holidays. We host Passover dinner at our house every year. We have family over and make memories - as I did as a kid at my Grandparents house.

This does not make me a bad person, nor does it make my children any worse off in their lives. Instead of studying for years on end to read a few pages in Hebrew when my son becomes a teenager, I'd rather he have more time to play outside with his friends while learning some important life lessons. I'd rather he learns to read better in English and develop his intellect to a higher degree than have numerous fights with me and his Dad to study his Bar Mitzvah passages. I'd rather take those tens of thousands of dollars that would be spent on a Bar Mitzvah and put them towards his education fund. I am a logical person. I know this will hurt my mother but my children come first. I am not a lesser person because of this.

A few times in my childhood we went to synagogue. It was with my aunt and uncle and my mom didn't even come. Clearly it wasn't so important to her...which is totally fine, except that she shouldn't expect me to feel the importance of it now.

If it was so important for my mother to have observantly Jewish grandchildren, she should have considered raising her children that way. Maybe it would have been more important to me - though I still am doubtful. It hurts me that I am being made to feel bad about these things. I think I do a damn good job of raising my children and keeping my household running the best it can. I have awesome kids that I am proud of. They are smart, well rounded and most importantly - HAPPY children, and to me this is all more important than anything else in the world. What bothers me most? That I feel I need to explain myself. People believe differently. They are raised differently, have different beliefs and that's okay. Happiness is the ultimate goal in life people, not whether or not you eat bread on Passover.

**Last Night's Exchange

I had to share the brief conversation I had with my son last night after I found him still awake after being in bed for an hour (a very rare occasion).

Me: 'How come you're still awake Buddy?'

Him: 'I sleep with my eyes open.'

Me: 'Okay, but are you having trouble falling asleep tonight?'

Him (sitting up): 'I always sleep with my eyes open.'

Me: 'Is something bothering you? Is there something I can do to help?'

Him (getting annoyed): 'I told you I sleep with my eyes open!'

Me: 'I came upstairs because I heard your music box go on...can you turn it on when you're asleep?'

Him: 'Yes'

Me: 'Are you asleep now?'

Him: 'Yes! I'm asleep with my eyes open. I don't close them when I sleep.'

Me: 'So you're okay?'

Him: 'Yes! I'm sleeping!'

Me: 'Okay....um....goodnight???'

Him: 'Goodnight Mommy'

What are you supposed to say to that???

**Half Way

I am the type of person who can never do anything half way. Everything set upon my plate will be done to the greatest of my ability - or not at all. One or the other.

When I was working as a manger at a large homecare agency, two other managers resigned, leaving me to fill the shoes of three managers in different areas. I couldn't do it. I was awake nights thinking about things I should do - but never had the time to concentrate on. I approached my manager and told her that I could just not function if I could not do any of the jobs I was responsible for all the way. I was doing 1/3 of each job and felt as if I was failing miserably. She realigned the department and I was once again able to do my job -- well.

Last week I joined a gym. I had been hoping to find the time for a while, and now seem to have figured out how to squeeze it in. I have been a member since April 14th. Seven days. I have gone seven times. I jump into things - with both feet. I can't just go when I have time. Now I have to make time every day and work as hard as I can.

Some may see this as a good trait - sometimes it's not so much. Some days I wish I could do things half way - have a more laid-back way of doing things, let things slide on occasion. I just can't. I've tried.

**Benign Acute Childhood Myositis

Dr. K. has gone to Owen Sound (refer to blog entitled "Terrible News" dated November 20, 2007). She stuck to her word. She promised me that she would do a monthly weekend walk-in clinic and keep her on-call at the hospital monthly too. She convinced me she WOULD be back in two years and Owen Sound was a temporary home. Her replacement is a nice man named Dr. Y. Nice guy. Me - being the pessimist that I am - had my hesitations. I figure he knows what he's doing, but I never put as much confidence in him as Dr. K.

Last week my son got sick. Fever, cold, cough, nothing major. After four days of fever I figured I'd better have him checked out and was ELATED to find out that Dr. K. happened to be doing a clinic that day! What luck! She swabbed him for strep - no biggie.

Next day. Dr. K. is back in Owen Sound. Damn Owen Sound. I hate Owen Sound. My little boy wakes up and cannot walk. His calfs hurt him so much that I had to carry him down the stairs. He's crying in pain. Flashback four years. He's 2 1/2 years old and is hospitalized for a serious knee infection that spread to his bloodstream in less than 12 hours. I know I have to bring him in. Dr. Y. is the only option. My anxiety grows.

We go. Dr. Y. examines him, asks a lot of questions about his infection 4 years ago, asks my boy a lot of questions, examines him more, puts him on the table, off the table, on a chair, off a chair. And he says it's a complication of influenza. He has influenza (hence the fever) and it happens to kids after the flu. No need to worry. It will go away.

I'm still a hold-out. Not convinced it's nothing. Who has heard of a kid not walking after the flu? He still has a fever! I go home and research. Turns out it's called Benign Acute Childhood Myositis. He's right. It happens after the flu, mostly in boys aged 3-9, goes away in 3-5 days with no ill effects. It's rare, but well documented.

Two days later my boy is his old self. Bounding around the house, jumping off furniture, zipping up and down the stairs.

He won my trust and gained my respect. My son showed up with a rare childhood illness and he hit the nail on the head. I needed that. Dr. K. knew what she was doing when she found him to take over her practice for two years. Phew. My safety net has been reserected.

**The Circus of Life

Doesn't it feel like some days your life is like a circus? I really hope I am not the only one, because this afternoon, I feel like I'm the starring act in some sort of big tent circus event. A simple playdate. A simple, easy, fun, enjoyable playdate. It turns into breaking up fights over who had the magic wand first. DOES IT REALLY MATTER????? Why can nothing go smoothly in this house? Why does it seem like the more I try to do good for my kids, the more we all end up aggravated and frustrated? Even the simplest of things turn out to be uphill climbs.

I keep telling myself that my life is calm compared to some others. I witnessed a fight between a mom and son the other day that made me count my blessings and I may have actually seen little halos grow over my children's heads as I watched it. There are a couple of families at school that I watch in disbelief at the lack of control the parents have over the kids. In these situations I feel so calm and lucky and blessed.

In situations such as today, where a simple play date included tears, screaming, yelling and fights, I feel like we need SuperNanny to come and rescue us. Perhaps some sort of an institution for misbehaved kids who fight over the stupidest of things. Seriously, if I could pick the very stupidest thing in the world that two kids could possibly fight over, my kids would be the only two on the planet fighting over that.

On the bright side, my anger brings them closer together. After the playdate was over, I told them how upset I was over how it went and told them that I didn't want to see or hear from them until dinner time (it was only 45 minutes until dinner, I'm not that bad of a parent!), now they're playing nicely and quietly in my son's room while listening to music. I suppose that means I got my point across...but why don't I feel better about it?