So Meta

While cleaning for Pesach last night, I found... our shopping list from last Pesach.

Household Tip (Test Post)

As my email-subscribing crew has hopefully just discovered, Blogger is resisting sending out automated emails. I may or may not have found a solution, so I need a test post, stat.

Reaching for inspiration, I see that I just put on moisturizer because my thumb (!) is chapped. Go figure, it's just my right thumb, just at the top right corner of my nail, but it's chapped badly enough that there's a little fissure.

This reminds me of advice I got from my coworker/friend back when I was a technical writer. She said that in the winter, there's nothing better for chapped-skin-fissures than diaper cream. 

Now you know.

So let's see if The Blog Email Emails.

Wisdom of His People

Last week, BSM was having a hard night. He had missed computer time due to participating in other enjoyable activities (mainly a long phone call with a friend), then he missed more bedtime book then he had bargained for (because he asked for a walk with Husbinator to calm down about missing computer).

Poor BSM was genuinely crushed at being denied his routine. Husbinator and I sympathized, and we explained that sometimes you just have to pick a single thing from multiple nice things, but BSM was still hurt. 

As a last-ditch effort, I decided to share some Ancient Wisdom of His People. I asked BSM to prepare himself to learn something important. He took a deep breath. I looked at him soberly and declaimed, slowly and clearly: "One Tuchus. Can't dance. At two weddings."

BSM blinked and asked me to repeat that. I did. BSM laughed, and lo, he took heart.

I learned that Life Lessons are expressed as aphorisms for a reason. Also, as I already knew, tushy jokes are funny.

Later, since Husbinator and I are learning Yiddish, we decided to try to translate that expression back into Yiddish. When we went online to check our work, I learned that technically, the expression is, "You can't dance at two weddings with one tuchus." 

On Singing and Scooting

FF's gan is about three-quarters of a mile from our house. Until about two weeks ago, I took FF to and from gan either on my electric scooter or by bus. Recently, however, we acquired a scooter for FF, so he and I scoot to gan together on our respective scooters. I like this arrangement: it's cheaper and more relaxing than going by bus, and it's safer and more relaxing than giving him a ride on my electric scooter. 

Lately, we started singing as we go. On one ride we sang "The Ants Go Marching One by One;" on the next ride we sang "אחד מי יודע" [Who Knows One"]. 

Yesterday morning, FF requested "Chad Gadya." I started in Aramaic, but quickly switched to Hebrew, because FF doesn't understand Aramaic. Sure enough, a few lines into the Hebrew version, FF said, "Hey, I know this story! It's about the Mitzri [Egyptian] and the Jew talking!" That sounds like something BSM said at the Pesach Seder last year. Nice.

We sang "Chad Gadya," (or more accurately, its Hebrew on-the-fly-translation by Yours Truly, "G'di Echad") a few times over the course of the day, including at dinner, during which Husbinator and BSM supplied the traditional sound effects. (The Abba's sound effects were cleverly and humorously provided by Husbinator as, "Keep your feet in front of your chair!" "Have another bite of food!") During dinner, BSM also spontaneously told us that really "Chad Gadya" is a story about a Mitzri and a Jew having a theological debate about who (or Who) the True G-d is. 

This morning on our way to gan, FF requested "Chad Gadya" in "Aravit" [Arabic]. I smiled and told him that I'd sing it in Aramit [Aramaic], instead. 

I started singing, but I paused almost immediately to translate both "ואתא" [and came] and "שונרא" [cat] for him. Heroically, I sang all the way through the lines about the Dog and the Stick without stopping to traslate. FF independently supplied all of the correct noises. 

Then I broke down and stopped to translate "נורא," [fire] because that is just such a useful and delightful word. 

(The sheer number of other words in both Hebrew and Aramaic which are related to either light or fire and have a nun and a resh! The stories that open up when you realize that Rabbi Meir [light, Heb.] and Rabbi Nehurai [light, Ar.] might very well be the same person! Oh, and speaking of light and Rabbi Meir, remember that story I like about light and goodness? Yup, that's a story about Rabbi Meir [light] waiting for the light. But I digress.) 

FF blew me away with his response to the information that נורא means fire. "Oh," he shot back, "like תנור [oven]!" I never thought of that, but it sounds eminently reasonable, as the Mishna talks about clay ovens [תנור] that cook food using the heat of fires lit inside. I congratulated FF on a connection well-made, and I continued singing.

And now that I sit down to type up this little story, would you look at that? The Wikipedia entry for "Tandoor" absolutely supports FF's theory.

The English word [Tandoor] comes from Urdu tandūr, which came from Persian tanūr (تَنور) or (تَندور), which all mean (clay) oven. According to the Dehkhoda Persian Dictionary, the Persian word ultimately came from the Akkadian word tinūru (𒋾𒂟), which consists of the parts tin "mud" and nuro/nura "fire" and is mentioned as early as in the Akkadian Epic of Gilgamesh...

Nice.

Important Distinction

Around bedtime yesterday, I noticed that BSM was scratching his knee and looking quite uncomfortable. I had a look at his knee, and saw it looked like he'd been scratching it for a few days already. I asked what was wrong, and BSM responded briefly through his scratching, "Dry skin." That lined up with how his knee looked, so I offered BSM moisturizer, at which point, FF suddenly grabbed his calf and started moaning.

Not being my first rodeo, I cut off FF and asked if he also wanted cream. Face contorted, writhing dramatically, FF managed to gasp out, "No--" before he cut himself off with a pained moan.

"Sweetie," I told him dryly. "It's fine. BSM is getting cream. If you also want cream, I'm happy to give you cream, too."
"I don't want--" FF managed, as he rocked back and forth, clutching his calf.
"FF." I repeated, "I hear that your skin is also dry. If you want cream, you can have cream. It's okay."
"I don't want cream," FF insisted, massaging his calf now. "I need cream."

Good Thing Someone Knew Better

Remember when The Caped Avenger nearly didn't get a birthday cake when he turned 2? It was Sukkos, there would be dessert anyway, and what does a just barely two-year-old know about birthday traditions? Luckily, Mooshub got clearance from Ema and, a few days before yontiff, Mooshub told The Caped Avenger his birthday was coming up, and did The Caped Avenger know what we do on birthdays? With no further prompting, The Caped Avenger's face lit up, and he declared, "Caaaaaaake!" And so he got a birthday cake on the Second Day of Sukkos, as was his due. 

I love that story, but it seems that I didn't quite internalize its Life Lesson.

You see, Baby Yoda had a birthday party in school when he turned two a few months ago. His teacher was trying to iron out details with me, and I actually told her that BY didn't know the difference, anyway. Luckily, she insisted that of course he does, and I didn't argue, because I want her to love my child. 

Gentle reader, of course BY knew the difference. He loved the fact that it was his birthday, and he absolutely demanded cake (which yes, he got at home, too: fear not). When I showed BY the pictures and videos that his teacher sent us on Whatsapp, he said "Dedet!" [yom huledet = birthday], and watched the videos over and over again, providing color commentary. 

A few days later, his teacher gave us a decorated posterboard with about 6 of the pictures printed out, and BY carried that around the house for days saying "dedet, dedet," along with naming some of the kids in the photos.

Two-year-olds, man. They look like walking babies, but they know what's up.

Well, Excuse Me

A day or two ago, I confirmed with BSM that he knows there's a war going on between Russia and Ukraine right now. I don't think he rolled his eyes at me, but he came pretty close, with his sweetly patronizing, "Yeah Ema, of course. Everyone at school is talking about it. It is what we call "שיחת היום"