Sunday, October 27, 2019

Party, Israeli-Style

About 6 weeks into the school year, BSM's class celebrated finishing Parshat Bereshit. (That's difference #1 right there: 6 weeks for the little Hebrew-speakers vs. a year (?) for typical American kiddos.) Accordingly, parents were asked to send in food for the requisite class party. I remember these parties from growing up mainly for the food: chips, pretzels (lame!), chocolate, fruit-by-the-foot (yum!), soda...

So I could only laugh and shake my head at the list sent out for the Israeli party:


2 cans corn
2 cans pickles
4 cans tuna
30 pitas
3 plates of cut vegetables
20 hard-boiled eggs
1 package of spoons
2 sleeves of plastic cubs
1 package of plates
1 roll of plastic tablecloths
1 sweet dessert

The kids loved it, though, and I appreciate it as a parent, too.

Friday, October 18, 2019

Concerning Loopholes and Vowels

The scene: The dining room, where a cake is cooling. FF, having helped bake the cake, has recently discovered that it is no longer hot, and is inspecting it closely. I am focused on removing the seeds from a pomegranate.

FF: What's that?
Me: A pecan, like you ate before.
FF: No, that.
Me (not looking up): Oh, a chocolate chip?
FF: Yeah, chocolate.
(silence)
Me (with sudden realization): FF, do not bite the cake, do not touch the cake, do not eat the cake. Do you understand?
FF (with righteous indignation): I just licking!
Me (alarmed, but still not looking up): Just looking??? With your eyes?
FF (scornfully) : No, licking!

Friday, October 4, 2019

Context

A few years ago, I went through a period wherein I Just. Couldn't. Hear. It drove me crazy, and I was half-convinced that everyone was just mumbling. Long story short, I ended up with a diagnosis of stress. That was helpful, because I knew my hearing would improve, but also less than helpful, because... seriously? How could stress force me to constantly ask people to repeat themselves, even when hearing test results showed that I had near-perfect hearing (even super-hearing at some frequencies)?

Yesterday, I finally got my answer. I skimmed an article in The Guardian, (I tried but failed to read it thoroughly before linking to it), and all is explained:

When we feel safe, the muscles in the middle ear contract, with an effect like tightening the skin of a drum. This shuts out deep background sounds, and allows us to tune into the frequencies used in ordinary human speech.
  
But when we feel threatened, it is the deep background noises we need to hear. In evolutionary time, it was these sounds (roars, bellows, the padding of paws or rumble of hooves, thunder, a flood pulse in a river) that presaged danger. So the muscles of the middle ear relax, shutting out conversational frequencies.