My Brain no longer functions. I need some Gingko Biloba.

I made a huge mistake today.  But let me start at the beginning.

This morning, my husband set off, fairly early in the morning, to fetch my father at the airport.  The airport is about an hour or so drive from here, depending on traffic.  He had gone early this AM to meet with a friend of his who was actually arriving today from South Africa.  They met briefly and then my husband settled down to wait for my father, who was due to arrive at 11:15 am.  At about 12:30, I phoned my husband, to ask if my father had come out yet. 

"Nope, not yet" was the answer.

At 1 pm, my husband called me back and asked, "Are you sure he got on the plane?"

I answered indignantly "OF COURSE HE DID!!!  If he didn't, he would have called."

We hung up the phone.  5 minutes later, I called back.  "Isn't there someone you can ask, what is going on?" 

Apparently, the only way you can find out, is to call the airport.  Which is stupid, since my husband was actually AT THE AIRPORT.  Why should he have had to CALL THE AIRPORT.  But...this is Israel...

So, I quickly looked up the number on the internet and with my mind full of thoughts, like "Oh my G-d, for some reason, they have pulled my father to the side and are now searching him.  And I know my Dad.  After a long journey like this one, he will be overtired and grumpy and probably not very nice to the authorities, which might make it worse."  I had thoughts of having to bail him out of jail.  My next thought was that perhaps his Israeli passport wasn't up to date and they were giving him a hard time because of that. 

I got through to someone at the airport who assured me that all passengers from the flight I had quoted had left the baggage area and made it through customs and immigration.  Then she said "Are you sure he is coming today?"

Well...the NERVE!!!  Like I don't know how to read an itinerary...

"OF COURSE HE IS COMING TODAY.  I HAVE THE ITINERARY IN FRONT OF ME AND IT SAYS NOVEMBER 28, 2010.  THAT IS TODAY, AM I CORRECT???"  I said with a voice slightly raised, like a good Israeli!!! 

"Well, you can call the Interior Ministry at the airport and see if there has been a security or immigration issue."

By this time, I had to go and pick up my daughter from preschool, so I hung up the phone, furious with this idiot of a woman who apparently has no idea who I am.

But her suggestion that I had the wrong day left a nagging feeling inside my head.  What if she was right?

I got home and checked the itinerary.  This is what it looks like:

EDMONTON/INTL TORONTO AIR CANADA 106 V 28 NOV 10 800A 135P OK
ARRIVES TERMINAL -1
NONSTOP FOOD TO PURCHASE FLYING TIME- 3:35
EQUIPMENT-E90
FREQUENT FLYER -AC 111239513 SEAT-16D

TORONTO TEL AVIV AIR CANADA 84 V 28 NOV 10 520P 1115A OKDEPARTS TERMINAL -1
ARRIVES TERMINAL -3
NONSTOP BREAKFAST-MEAL ARRIVE-29 NOV FLYING TIME-10:55
EQUIPMENT-BOEING 767-300

Now check out the first line of the second paragraph.  That's the only part I read.  Because the only part that was important to me was when he was arriving.  It says 28 Nov 10 520 P 1115A.  Which means arrival is at 11:15 am.  I didn't bother to read the whole thing, which would have saved my husband a lot of trouble.  And money for that matter.  There is absolutely NO WAY that anyone can leave the Prairies in Canada at 8 am Canadian time and be in Israel at 11:15 our time ON THE SAME DAY!!!! 

Sheepishly, I called my husband, told him my mistake and gave him my permission to come home. 

NOW!  Here's the amazing part.  Even though he has to do this all over tomorrow morning, he came home, totally not even furious with me.  Then, he even drove me and the girls to Efrat, some 20 minutes away, for pizza and then grocery shopping.  Without a cross word or complaint.

I think my husband is a Tzaddik.  Or, for you non Hebrew speakers - a Saint. 

Perhaps tomorrow, my Father will actually be here.  Who knows?  Maybe he's not coming till Thursday!

Control

I have control issues.  I know that may come as a shock to those of you who know me (like my parents, who I think are the only ones who read this blog anyway...).  However, it is true.  I have control issues.  Just ask my parents.  Well.  You won't have to, because they will comment on this entry and confirm this. 

This past week has been a lesson from the powers that be that I am not in control of much and how to accept it gracefully.

I don't like to be confronted with my inability to control people, places and things.  Somewhere inside of me, I truly believe that if people would only listen to me and do exactly as I say, we all would be happier.  Both you AND me!!! 

It doesn't help that I am a Leo.  Once I read a description of a leo.  It said "You can always tell a Leo.  They will be the ones at a dinner party who tell the hostess that the food was good but would probably be better if they just did such and such.  And they will be right."  So even the stars say that I know better.  It's hard to fight against the stars...

So it's not my fault that I have control issues.

The other reason that I think that I have control issues, is because, in my opinion, both of  my parents have control issues.  They will deny this.  Watch.

Neither of my parents do very well working for other people.  They almost always come into conflict with other people at work, especially those who have authority over them.  They do best when they are self employed.

I have pretty much been self employed my whole life.  Except for a couple of stints working at restaurants.  Which never went over very well.  I was not a good waitress.  So, I always went back to my old stand by.  Childcare.  It is something I can do on my own and nobody tells me what to do through out the day.  It works for me. 

I think it is also one of the reasons I opted for stand up as opposed to acting.  In stand up, you are the writer, director, agent, producer, star. 

I gravitated toward what I am a natural for. 

Well, I am not so sure that the work thing is a problem with wanting to be in control or a problem with authority.  It could be either, it could be both.

Either way, my opinion is that it isn't my fault.  It is bad genes and being born under a bossy star sign. 

I can't help it.  I am bossy and controlling.  If you don't like it, too bad!

Bathing

I never thought that I would come to relish bathing as much as I have since I became a mother. 

For me, bathing is like cleaning the kitchen floor.  It gets done if I have the time and energy.  And I am pretty sure that my kitchen floor gets mopped more often than I take a shower. 

This past summer, we were between houses, as we had to leave our previous place at the end of June and our new place was only available on the first of August.  Since David's father had passed away in June, his house in Haifa was empty.  So we packed up the family and moved there.  David left shortly after for China together with Shmuel and I was a month alone in Haifa, with the girls.  Haifa has horrible weather.  Because it is on the water, it is humid as hell.  If one walks outside for two seconds, sweat develops and rolls down your body, like you are a human shower.  It is terrible.  I hate humidity. 

So there we were, in David's childhood home, which does not come equipped with a bathtub.  The only shower is stuck onto the wall of the bathroom and is not encased or separated from the rest of the bathroom.  At the end of the day, when I needed to give the girls a shower, I would get in with them and the three of us would shower together.  I realized after about a week, that it was probably the most I had showered in three years, since I gave birth to Chaya. 

Usually, at home, I get busy.  I go about my day, then the girls get a shower or bath, as does Shmuel and then by the time the three of them have been put in bed and then gotten up about 65 times for water, another story, pee, poo, a last minute snack and finally asleep, I collapse onto the sofa and have barely enough energy to make it to my bed.  So a shower, although seemingly a nice idea, is just that, a nice idea.  I don't have the energy left to walk another few steps and do what one needs to do in order to take a shower.

I really never thought that taking a shower would become a task where the amount of energy needed in order to do so would become too much for me. 

Add to that, that in Israel, the hot water is solar heated.  In the winter, in order to take a shower or bath, one must plan ahead.  It takes about an hour to heat up enough water for a good bath, so I favor taking a shower before dark in order to maximise the hot water.  However, taking a shower in the daytime, with small children is a juggling act.  I have gone days without a shower.  And then, all of a sudden, I raise my arms and think "Oh crap, I really need a shower."   Because, if you can smell your own body odor, it really means that you are a disgusting pig who needs to bathe. 

In Israel, however, body odor seems to be common.  Especially in the summer.  Because the heat is so atrocious, it is impossible not to sweat, humidity or desert, doesn't matter.  And no deoderant works well enough to prevent the odor.  Believe me, I know, I have tried.  As a result, in the summer, it is easy to get away with not taking a shower.  The winter, however, calls your bluff. 

Last night, I was in the shower and I thought, "Wow, this is so nice, to take a shower before bed.  I won't have to do it in the morning.  The house is quiet, the kids are sleeping and I am clean!  Good for me!!!"  My second thought was "That is so weird Amanda.  You shouldn't feel as if you have climbed Mount Everest just because you took a shower."  But I did.  I felt like I had secured peace between Israel and Palestine.  Accomplished this impossible but world changing feat. 

I almost called CNN, but my rational voice took over that said "You need to get out more darling."  So I settled for putting on clean pajamas and cuddling under my duvet and drifting off to sleep, dreaming that I had won the Nobel Peace Prize for being an advocate for cleanliness. 

One year old observations

I haven't had an inspiration as to a topic that I would like to blog about.  I am too tired at night to sit down and type away and too busy during the day taking care of children and cleaning the kitchen.  I sweep the floor in my kitchen about 35 times a day and do dishes about 70 times a day.  I had all these great plans when I thought of having a daycare in my home, as to what I would do with the kids, how to be creative and teach them all sorts of brilliant things, so that when they became a Nobel Peace Prize winner, they would credit me with giving them a head start in life.  But then I got all one year old kids and remembered that Obama won the Peace Prize last - for doing nothing.  So basically, the children arrive, they eat, we go out to play, they eat again, they sleep, then eat again, then we go out to pick up the older kids from preschool and we eat again and then we go outside to play again.  One year olds do nothing but eat and sleep and play outside.  The one time I tried to get them to color, they kept eating the crayons, so I completely ruled out painting after that.  I figure that the parents want their kids to come home healthy, so I now do what is in their children's ability at this time.  One year olds barely even play with toys.  They pick it up, look at it, taste it and then throw it on the ground.  I forgot about this.  Until now.  I was so confused as to what kind of toys I should get the girls when they were one, because they never really seemed interested in anything.  They really weren't.  They liked to go outside.  The world is a huge toy to them.  They like to see things, people, animals, swings, sand.  They don't give a rats ass about educational, Baby Einstein, Baby Freud crap.  Give them dirt to eat any day.  Then they are happy as clams. 

Anyway, dirt has protein.  I think.