Dreams And Musings. (Religious Content.)
First, a brief update:
Sarah had a great time on her birthday. I was a little frazzled, but made it through the party thanks to chanting the Serenity Prayer under my breath every time something went wrong (the person who was supposed to help us set up didn't come early enough; nobody showed up until half an hour after the party was supposed to start; two families--with 5 kids between them whom Sarah was really looking forward to playing with--didn't show up; we had to throw out about $60 worth of deli platters that didn't get eaten and sat out for too long.)
I was really nervous about having an actual non-"family-only" party, especially since I knew some of the people we were inviting (Sarah's preschool friends, including the cantor's son) are used to a few more of the finer things in life than our no-frills lifestyle allows us. I'd like to think that our al fresco party in the park freed them from their usual social constraints and reminded them of the simpler things in life. But I'd probably just be kidding myself. Oh, self, you're so amusing sometimes. Ha, ha!
Slightly more elevated thinking after the jump, if you're interested.
So the High Holy Days are over and I'm feeling a little guilty about not being able to make it to the temple for services this year. My most fervent prayer yesterday for Yom Kippur (and heck, it's a good one to say every day) basically consisted of: "Dear God, you let me live all those years when I was batshit crazy, so please don't take me now that I have kids and I'm trying to get better." Yom Kippur is pretty darn lonely when you're the only one fasting in the family. But it did make me think a lot about all the things I'm doing wrong, and how I can try to fix them. Plus, I got some cleaning done (thanks to velveteenrabbi for the cleaning/teshuvah comparison.)
There are three different Sukkot events planned for this weekend so I'm going to try my darndest to take Sarah to at least two of them. She's learning about Sukkot this week in preschool and seems interested in the events. Of course, this presents another opportunity for me to feel guilty: if only we had a house with a yard, somewhere we could put up our own sukkah. I'd love to be able to afford my own lulav and etrog set, but that's just not possible this year either.
Instead of "next year in Jerusalem," I found myself praying at Rosh Hashanah and yesterday, "next year in our own house." God willing, we might have the opportunity before too long, since we've just received our application for a first-time homebuyer program which helps low-income families with loans and closing costs. We're just under the income limit for the program (for the first time, I find myself thankful for not having much money) so if we qualify, I'll have to sit out of the job market for another year to meet the income requirement. But what's another year when we have so much to possibly gain?
So, if you're the praying sort, please put in a few for us. I'm almost afraid to hope for a house of our own. My father died without ever owning so much as a decent car, and mother will most likely go the same way, which makes me sad. But maybe, just maybe, the buck can stop here and I'll be able to achieve the dream of homeownership that never came true for them.
Sarah had a great time on her birthday. I was a little frazzled, but made it through the party thanks to chanting the Serenity Prayer under my breath every time something went wrong (the person who was supposed to help us set up didn't come early enough; nobody showed up until half an hour after the party was supposed to start; two families--with 5 kids between them whom Sarah was really looking forward to playing with--didn't show up; we had to throw out about $60 worth of deli platters that didn't get eaten and sat out for too long.)
I was really nervous about having an actual non-"family-only" party, especially since I knew some of the people we were inviting (Sarah's preschool friends, including the cantor's son) are used to a few more of the finer things in life than our no-frills lifestyle allows us. I'd like to think that our al fresco party in the park freed them from their usual social constraints and reminded them of the simpler things in life. But I'd probably just be kidding myself. Oh, self, you're so amusing sometimes. Ha, ha!
Slightly more elevated thinking after the jump, if you're interested.
So the High Holy Days are over and I'm feeling a little guilty about not being able to make it to the temple for services this year. My most fervent prayer yesterday for Yom Kippur (and heck, it's a good one to say every day) basically consisted of: "Dear God, you let me live all those years when I was batshit crazy, so please don't take me now that I have kids and I'm trying to get better." Yom Kippur is pretty darn lonely when you're the only one fasting in the family. But it did make me think a lot about all the things I'm doing wrong, and how I can try to fix them. Plus, I got some cleaning done (thanks to velveteenrabbi for the cleaning/teshuvah comparison.)
There are three different Sukkot events planned for this weekend so I'm going to try my darndest to take Sarah to at least two of them. She's learning about Sukkot this week in preschool and seems interested in the events. Of course, this presents another opportunity for me to feel guilty: if only we had a house with a yard, somewhere we could put up our own sukkah. I'd love to be able to afford my own lulav and etrog set, but that's just not possible this year either.
Instead of "next year in Jerusalem," I found myself praying at Rosh Hashanah and yesterday, "next year in our own house." God willing, we might have the opportunity before too long, since we've just received our application for a first-time homebuyer program which helps low-income families with loans and closing costs. We're just under the income limit for the program (for the first time, I find myself thankful for not having much money) so if we qualify, I'll have to sit out of the job market for another year to meet the income requirement. But what's another year when we have so much to possibly gain?
So, if you're the praying sort, please put in a few for us. I'm almost afraid to hope for a house of our own. My father died without ever owning so much as a decent car, and mother will most likely go the same way, which makes me sad. But maybe, just maybe, the buck can stop here and I'll be able to achieve the dream of homeownership that never came true for them.