Why can’t I feel a little more… more something? It’s not like I don’t care. It’s Rosh Hashanah, for goodness sake!
“The doctor does these procedures 20 times a day,” I mused. “It’s a big deal for us, but it’s no big deal for him. He could probably do it with his eyes closed.”
I’m the mother in the middle, orbiting between these contrasting worlds, trying to give each child what she needs while being sensitive to the other,
Next time I want to give up and say, this is too hard for me, I want out — I’ll think of Ahuva and keep going
I always worried and wondered what sort of mother I’d be. I’m a little impatient — make that very. Multisyllabic words are my favorite kinds, and I have a low tolerance for mindless stupidity (which is the Webster definition of children, right?)
