I'm so off my game
Then I gasp because I realize that Rosh Hashona starts Monday night. Have I even thought about it? Of course not. Who has the time? I'm busy doing a bunch of other stuff like being sick and organizing my wayward kids. Panic ensues. I have to:
Hit the Kosher store and get provisions
Decide on turkey vs brisket
Go apple picking
Clean up house
Eliminate cat pee stench from dining room
Cook all freaking weekend
oh, and find out where we can daven this year.
Good lord, when am I going to get this done? Tonight is Shabbat, which makes Sunday the earliest I can go shopping and really start cooking. We fortunately have pretty much everything for sides (sweet potatoes and a carrot kugel) but we still need apples. I hate to buy them if I can go picking. But with this weather, that's not gonna happen.
I think we're going to have a very low key Rosh Hashona this year. I'm sad about that, but what can I do at this late date? As much as I have increased stamina, I'm not back to normal at all, and I'm not going to get this done.
I'm so tired of having to do it all. It's only me putting the pressure on. My kids wouldn't really care one way or the other about the HHs. They like the food, but the rest of it? Blech. But I swore that when I had kids I would raise them in a Jewish home, and every year I seem to let a bit more slide. I've always made a beautiful Rosh Hashona and I'm sad that it might not happen this year at all. Is that OK? Is it wrong to want to provide a good Jewish experience for my kids in the hopes that they might want to carry on the traditions in their own homes? I know for most people, this desire for perfection with a Mom named Beth and a dad named Saul, two children (Elly and David) and a dog called Moishe isn't reality. I know this, but every year I want to make that experience for my kids. I wish I could rent a Jewish Dad for them, along with a Kosher cook that would prepare a scrumptious meal. We'll call her Bubbe. While she's cooking, Zayde will be setting the table and talking to Elly and David about Rosh Hashona in his house in Brooklyn during the depression. They'll be polishing the silver.
I know this is a dream world, where houses are beautifully decorated with Judaica, rugs don't smell like cat pee, kids are interested in their families, and Bubbe and Zayde are involved. I'm clear that this is never going to be a part of our lives, but there, someplace way back in my mind, there is some synapse that is saying "You need to make this for your family." It's not guilt. It's desire. Desire to provide them with a loving Jewish family. Desire to bring them a lifetime of good solid Jewish memories. Not memories of Mom exhausted in the kitchen while they complain about every single time they're asked to help.
I do the best I can. That's all I can do. But this mantra is getting really stale. Stumble It! JBlog Me