Me, My Adopted Sons, and Our War with Food

Dr. Gary Matloff for Kveller.com

I’ll never forget the explosive temper tantrum my oldest son, at 12 years old, had only a couple of months after I adopted him and his younger brother. I innocently thought we’d skip lunch in favor of a quick snack and an early dinner out on the road. He wasn’t happy with this decision, and the language barrier between us proved detrimental, with his still having trouble beginning to learn English. Without being able to quickly communicate my thoughts and intentions that might have reassured him, his deepest, most suppressed fears took a life of their own. It wasn’t until a desperate drive through at a nearby McDonald’s, where he began to devour the contents of the Happy Meal he firmly held on his lap, did he begin to calm down.

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

The Real Reason I Didn’t Have a Baby Shower

Ilana Kurshan for Kveller

A pregnant friend recently asked me whether or not she ought to have a baby shower. “My mother-in-law really wants to make me one. I know that Jews are not supposed to do those kinds of things, but why not? Is it just about superstition?”

I thought about her question. Why do many Jews not have baby showers? Yes, there is the superstitious fear of the evil eye, namely that celebrating the baby before it is born would attract the attention of dark spirits, who would mark the baby for disaster. Jewish superstitions go back very far–in the Talmud, for instance, the sages speak of a very real fear of doing anything in even numbers because pairs were considered demonic; this fear led the rabbis to question how we can possibly drink four cups of wine at the Pesach seder, a practice that no one thinks twice about today. Indeed, many of the superstitions that may have plagued our great-grandmothers in the shtetl seem to have fallen away. Why then should we not turn a blind eye to the evil eye and have that baby shower after all?

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

Why Preschool is the Most Important School of All

Risa Sugarman for Kveller

What’s the big deal with preschool, anyway? Adorable 3, 4, and 5-year-olds frolic, play, and learn, but why is there such a big emphasis on it these days? I see it through interactions with other parents, as we ask each other where we send our preschoolers. I also see it floating through social media with different posts about the importance of what is learned in preschool.

I’ll tell you why: Preschool just may be the best form of education offered today. And I even wish some adults, including myself, could get in on the action.

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

What They Never Tell You About Being a Mom

Shaindy Urman for Kveller

If she’s anything like me, one day my daughter will Google the people she cares about. And I hope–as she’s scrolling and searching through as many stories as she can about those dear people in her life–I hope she will find this.

Because as much as she thinks she knows how big of a space she holds in my heart, there are some things you can never fully know until you become “Mom.”

You think you know what you’re getting into when you’re trying to get pregnant. You dream in blues and pinks and your thoughts become those of colorful onesies and elegant strollers, miniscule socks and gorgeous nurseries, gifts and well wishes and a fabulous baby shower.

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

My Week of Chaos: 5 Kids, 1 Fetus, No Husband

By Jordana Horn, a contributing editor to Kveller

I’ll admit it: When my husband picked up his suitcase to leave to go to the Philippines for a week on business, my first impulse was not to set a good example for the five kids. Instead, I wanted to take a page out of my 1-year-old’s playbook and throw myself at my husband’s legs, yelling, “No! No! Don’t go! Take me! Don’t leave me here! I’ll do anything!”

Somehow, I refrained.

So my husband left for the other side of the planet, no doubt experiencing more tranquility in his approximately 24 hours of air travel than either he or I have felt in years. As Murphy would have it, however, back on the home front, the proverbial s--t hit the fan. And when two members of your household are incontinent, some of that s--t is not just proverbial, but literal (thankfully, it’s not yet warm enough to put on the fans).

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

As My Son Turns 18, Looking Back On a Life With Autism

By Hannah Brown for Kveller

When I turned 18, I had my first legal drink–a strawberry daiquiri–at Windows on the World, the bar/restaurant that was located on the top floor of the World Trade Center.

When my oldest son, Danny, turns 18 next week, we will take a train from Jerusalem to Haifa, and then we will ride the Carmelit subway for a good part of the day.

Danny loves trains and has ever since he was diagnosed with autism when he was 3. In addition to marking his birthday with a cake in the evening, his father and I will become his legal guardians that day. When he was born, there was no World Autism Awareness Day, but it’s hard not to see the irony in the fact that April 2 is just six days before his birthday.

We moved back to Israel about a year after the diagnosis because Danny’s father is Israeli and wanted to head back home. Because of his autism, Danny won’t be drafted into the Israel Defense Forces, like most 18-year-olds here, but will stay in a school he loves, where he is learning and progressing. When he finishes up there, at the age of 21, he may or may not be high-functioning enough to serve in one of the IDF special-needs units.

Continue reading.

Follow us on   

What Happened When My Son’s School Wouldn’t Accommodate His Auditory Processing Disorder

Alina Adams for Kveller

When he was 3 years old, my oldest son was barely talking. Our pediatrician suggested we get him checked out. It turned out he had some hearing loss due to recurrent ear infections. He was also diagnosed with Auditory Processing Disorder. As a result, he was placed into New York State’s Early Intervention program. He was initially referred for speech therapy, but within a few weeks, they were telling us he needed physical therapy and occupational therapy for his short attention span, inability to sit still, and poor crayon handling. I thought he was just a typical little boy, and that he’d outgrow it.

And he did.

Continue reading.

Follow us on