This should be nice and light....
I was raised as an Orthodox Jewess. I went to Orthodox synagogue, Orthodox school, Orthodox camp, Orthodox college. I became friends with a gentile for the first time in graduate school. It's been downhill since. ;)
The truth is that sometime in college, I decided that the sense of belonging that my religion afforded me was running out. While I loved and love my core people and have nothing but mad respect for them and their faith, I started to feel rebellion creep up. I felt like I needed to be the contrarian. To point out the injustices of our (crazy) faith. To show them that I won't follow the fold. Once I got that delayed adolescent rebellion out of my system (or at least 50% of it), I just lost interest. It stopped resonating. What used to give me the chills (my barometer for spiritual awakening) just left me hollow.
Well, at least some of the time. I still have a primal, instinctive response to certain very jewish things. When I hear certain songs and prayers, i am home. When I see a jewish patient, I care even more deeply for them. Show me a picture of an Israeli soldier and watch me fold. No matter how hard I try, I can not leave this orthodox community. There is no other place for me. Its a dissonance that is hard to describe. As much as I find wrong with it, I can't find anything else that is as egosyntonic (i KNEW i would get to use that word again!) for me.
Orthodoxy=my mother.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, September 28, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Take 2
Egosyntonic- behaviors, thoughts, feelings that are in harmony with the ego.
I love that word. I wish I knew what my ego needed/wanted.
I also wish I knew how to change the name of this blog. Its really annoying me.
So, if you're reading this- you committed to continue reading after first post so I will give you a quick background.
Im 38. Married for 12 years. Dated for 10 weeks prior to engagement. Unclear as to how that happened. It just did. No, I wasn't pregnant.
Hubs is 42 and is always able to make me laugh. He's super quirky and a lot crazy.
We have 3 darling children. Well the last one is darling. They first 2 are nutty balls of chaos. Loud, intrusive, hyperactive, funny, good looking messes.
Firstborn is a 3rd grade boy who is seriously handsome and smart. You can trust me when I say that because I am a mother who knows my childrens strengths and their maddenning weaknesses. Firstborn is a member of "Generation Psychopharmacology" and wears his patch proudly. God bless daytrana and all it's sticky magic. Firstborn also inherited his dear ole' dads tics. Endearing, you may think? You would be very wrong. An eye rolling, throat clearing, stomach sucking, sleeve biting, grunting soundtrack has played in my house for many nights over many years. Its slightly better with guanfacine (med # 2) but mostly we have learned that this is who he is and what he needs to do to live in this chaotic universe. That doesn't mean they don't make me homicidal at times. A lot of times.
He's so damn smart and funny and KIND that it lets him get away with almost anything.
Numero dos is my one and only daughter. Some people refer to her as "Honey Boo Boo" (and by some people, I mean her parents). She is a round ball of laughter, confidence and rage. Her impulse control is poor. She may kick you if she walks by you in the hallway. But she loves you and just wants to connect. That may be by connecting your face with her hand sometimes. I definitely see meds in her future too but at 5 years old, we're patiently waiting. She is the most confident girl I know and I want so much to bottle that confidence and re-open it when she's a teenage girl and some dick of a pubertal boy tells her he's just "not so into her". And then I will go and kill that dick of a boy. She dances like Elaine from Seinfeld who just got diagnosed with epilepsy- but she is convinced she will win "Americas Got Talent". She knows she'll be a wizard when she grows up.
And lastly- my baby boy. He is perfect. 6 months old and smiles like it's his job. He's so quiet, I often check my back seat to make sure I haven't left him at Publix/work/school. He lives in casa de los locos here and just observes. Concerned that he was mute, I flicked him once and he yelped. That made me feel better. He's starting to coo- but even his cooing is so....MELLOW. Maybe all the anti-depressants in my placenta did him some good.....
Keep reading. We're just getting started.
I love that word. I wish I knew what my ego needed/wanted.
I also wish I knew how to change the name of this blog. Its really annoying me.
So, if you're reading this- you committed to continue reading after first post so I will give you a quick background.
Im 38. Married for 12 years. Dated for 10 weeks prior to engagement. Unclear as to how that happened. It just did. No, I wasn't pregnant.
Hubs is 42 and is always able to make me laugh. He's super quirky and a lot crazy.
We have 3 darling children. Well the last one is darling. They first 2 are nutty balls of chaos. Loud, intrusive, hyperactive, funny, good looking messes.
Firstborn is a 3rd grade boy who is seriously handsome and smart. You can trust me when I say that because I am a mother who knows my childrens strengths and their maddenning weaknesses. Firstborn is a member of "Generation Psychopharmacology" and wears his patch proudly. God bless daytrana and all it's sticky magic. Firstborn also inherited his dear ole' dads tics. Endearing, you may think? You would be very wrong. An eye rolling, throat clearing, stomach sucking, sleeve biting, grunting soundtrack has played in my house for many nights over many years. Its slightly better with guanfacine (med # 2) but mostly we have learned that this is who he is and what he needs to do to live in this chaotic universe. That doesn't mean they don't make me homicidal at times. A lot of times.
He's so damn smart and funny and KIND that it lets him get away with almost anything.
Numero dos is my one and only daughter. Some people refer to her as "Honey Boo Boo" (and by some people, I mean her parents). She is a round ball of laughter, confidence and rage. Her impulse control is poor. She may kick you if she walks by you in the hallway. But she loves you and just wants to connect. That may be by connecting your face with her hand sometimes. I definitely see meds in her future too but at 5 years old, we're patiently waiting. She is the most confident girl I know and I want so much to bottle that confidence and re-open it when she's a teenage girl and some dick of a pubertal boy tells her he's just "not so into her". And then I will go and kill that dick of a boy. She dances like Elaine from Seinfeld who just got diagnosed with epilepsy- but she is convinced she will win "Americas Got Talent". She knows she'll be a wizard when she grows up.
And lastly- my baby boy. He is perfect. 6 months old and smiles like it's his job. He's so quiet, I often check my back seat to make sure I haven't left him at Publix/work/school. He lives in casa de los locos here and just observes. Concerned that he was mute, I flicked him once and he yelped. That made me feel better. He's starting to coo- but even his cooing is so....MELLOW. Maybe all the anti-depressants in my placenta did him some good.....
Keep reading. We're just getting started.
Tech-tard
So in my attempt to start a new blog- with a brand new title and twist- I seem to only be able to add to this 4 year old pitiful blog I started many moons ago. Back in 2008, when I thought that writing a blog would help me lose weight. Since that time-I've popped out another kid and am 7 lbs heavier than the initial blog weight....But I digress. The POINT i was trying to make is that it took me about an hour to figure out how to start a blog on an ipad and then when i (sort of) figured it out, it won't let me start anew. It forces me to go back and face my past. "It" is the magical creature who lives in all Apple products and who mocks me and my tech-tard ways.
So, when I read my lonely entry from November 2008, it made me realize how certain things are constant. How some things never seem to change. Do I really want this blog to be about weight? No. It's a topic that I'm growing weary of. I want this blog to be about being a mom to 3 absoulte nutball kids, a wife to 1 absolute nutball husband, a full time nurse practitioner, a woman looking for a deeper connection to the spirit of the universe. And a chubby chick who needs to get healthy about food. Not necessarily in that order. To preface, I don't do any of the above particularly well and am in no means an expert. But I do know this: I think I am developing adult ADD and I have a faulty filter- so I will often write what comes into my head. Real. Honest. Crazy. Disjointed at times.
Welcome to my home.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
So, when I read my lonely entry from November 2008, it made me realize how certain things are constant. How some things never seem to change. Do I really want this blog to be about weight? No. It's a topic that I'm growing weary of. I want this blog to be about being a mom to 3 absoulte nutball kids, a wife to 1 absolute nutball husband, a full time nurse practitioner, a woman looking for a deeper connection to the spirit of the universe. And a chubby chick who needs to get healthy about food. Not necessarily in that order. To preface, I don't do any of the above particularly well and am in no means an expert. But I do know this: I think I am developing adult ADD and I have a faulty filter- so I will often write what comes into my head. Real. Honest. Crazy. Disjointed at times.
Welcome to my home.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)