Into your mind

Don't wanna nap, you say.

I will lie down with you, I say. 

Don't wanna nap!

Wanna jump. 

Wanna play. 

So I lie in your bed. 

I hope to sleep but you are 

moving

talking

bouncing

talking 

moving

keeping yourself awake. 

I find myself not asleep

but not annoyed. 

Instead 

amused

enlightened

I hear your brain at work. 

Snippets of your life. 

That's not fair!

I will be right back, Monkey!

Let's jump - 1,2,3!

Is that Spider-Man? Yes it is!

Watch out!

How are you, Dinosaur?

Oh, I love it!

Put your head down, I say. 

I don't need a nap, you say. 

Please? I say. 

No, you are adamant. 

So you

jump

move

talk

tell stories. 

And I listen. 

Blessed with the insight

into your little growing mind. 

But I still wish you would just take a nap. 

Narrow Bridge

I walked into the gym at 5:40 this morning.
I sat down to put on my spinning shoes.
And a wave of something like grief washed over me.

I haven't sat down to put on my spin shoes at the gym since...
since before Sam relapsed.

For just a moment, I put my head in my hands.
I breathed in deeply, staving off the dizzy wave of realization and fear.

The world is a very narrow bridge.

I rode my bike.
I sweated.
I stopped at the store.
I grabbed a latte with the early-morning crowd.

And I came back home to some kind of normal...some kind of reality.

All four of them bouncing around.
Breakfast.
School books.
Piano practicing.
Coffee drinking (okay, that was just me.)

The world is a very narrow bridge
but the important thing is not to be afraid.

This in-between at-home-but-knowing-it-is-temporary feeling is unsettling.
The in-between bridge is narrow.
And the end is foggy.

The home-health nurse came for a visit.
She took vitals.
She asked questions.
We flushed his lines after she left.

It was like we had never taken a break.
We remembered exactly what to do.
I wanted to forget.

But the important thing is not to be afraid.

The important thing is not to be afraid...

A Different Kind of Counting

We are in the period of the Omer, the days between the second day of Passover and Shavuot. 

Jews are very into counting.

Each year, I find different ways to observe the Omer. The counting lends rhythm, it is special. More and more of my colleagues and friends are counting the Omer, particularly using social media. It's a really wonderful way to connect and learn new lessons, to remember the day, to sense the passage of time in a communal way.

But this year, my Omer is different. The counting in which I'm engaged is different.

We're counting hemoglobin and white blood cells. We're counting neutrophils and platelets.

The official lap-counting board on the HOT Unit

We're also counting days and weeks, we're counting visitors and jokes. We're counting laps around the unit and we're counting antibiotics and degrees of temperature. We're counting ounces of water consumed and calories taken in.

Counting the Omer has taken on new meaning for me this year. We count up to Shavuot, we add the days...we don't count down. We are reaching, rising, moving forward from the slavery of Passover to the freedom of receiving Torah.

Sam's symptoms began to present themselves on the second night of Passover, the night on which we begin to count the Omer. He entered into the hospital on the last day of the holiday, and we began the count-up....through the slavery and degradation of chemotherapy and treatment into the freedom of healing...

We're not there yet. There's a lot of counting left to go.

Each year we count the Omer. Each year we remind ourselves of the journey from slavery to freedom. But this year, my family is living it. We are walking the road, we are traveling the journey.

Like the Israelites, we are afraid, we don't know what's ahead, we don't know what pitfalls we will face. But we can see the mountain, we can see the high place of light ahead of us.

We're counting up...up...up.

Happy Birthday, Israel!

Where You Can Find Me

In case you're looking for me, I'm mostly over here these days.

Unfortunately, things have taken a step backwards into Cancerland.

Gam zeh ya'avor. This too shall pass.

Mini Crustless Quiches {Passover Recipe}

Crustless quiches sounded like a delicious addition to our Pesach repertoire!

With thanks to Mara over at Kosher on a Budget for the inspiration, here's what I came up with, after reading a whole lot of crustless quiche recipes:

Whisk together 6 eggs and about 1 cup of whole milk. Add about 1/2 a cup of Parmesan, some nice pepper and salt. Preheat oven to 350 and spray your mini-muffin tin (24 cups) with cooking spray.

Into each cup, put a little bit of vegetables* and a little bit of shredded cheese (I used cheddar) and then pour the egg mixture over them until they're all covered. You can pour all the way up to the top of the cups.

Bake for about 30 minutes until slightly brown on top and puffed up.

As soon as they come out of the oven, run a knife around the edge of each quiche and turn them out onto a wire rack to cool. We ate ours at room temperature but they're good hot, cold, or anywhere in between!

*I used frozen spinach, defrosted and squeezed out, as well as some caramelized onions. I can see how almost anything would work here. Just don't overfill the cups.

A delicious addition to your Pesach food offerings!
What's your favorite Passover recipe?

Pesach Make-Your-Own Charoset Oasis

There are many different ways to observe the holiday of Passover.

In my own personal custom, I'm pretty committed to the idea of one Seder, on the first night of the holiday. A second seder has always felt, well, secondary. It lacks the excitement, the enthusiasm, the delight (albeit short-lived) of that first taste of matzah. 

But I love a good party.

So I don't usually turn down the idea of a second-night-of-Passover Party.

Oh, and since I also love to teach and discuss and enjoy traditions, I don't mind throwing a few of the Seder customs into that second-night-of-Passover party.

Often, our second seder is somewhat experimental. 

So this year, we tried a few new things.

First, we set up a tent in our living room. Our living room isn't very big, so the tent took up most of the space. But it did allow us to ask a fifth question - "what's with the tent!?"

I had hoped it would spark a discussion of what it would be like to wander in the desert, what we would pack if we had to leave on a moment's notice. Alas, it wasn't quite as sparky as I'd hoped. But the kids loved having a tent. And Big Bear loved having a room of his own.

The more successful innovation was this Make-Your-Own Charoset Oasis:

(As named by my friend Rabbi Anne Persin, who says, "we're traveling in the desert and we stopped at this oasis for some charoset!")

I put out bowls of chopped nuts, chopped apples, chopped pears, mandarin oranges, toasted coconut, and raisins. I pre-soaked the apples and pears in wine, and I left a little extra wine on the table for those who like it extra-mushy. We also put out honey and cinnamon (not pictured). Even my kids who don't usually like charoset got into the fun, and adults did too. (Bananas came up as a suggestion, and I waited to cut them until the last minute and then I forgot. Oops.)

I think it might be fun to ask people to suggest their own ingredients, or to ask them to bring a bowl filled with a charoset ingredient and its significance toward the lessons of Passover. Either way, I think I've created a hit with this one! 

In case you're interested, we also watched some of our favorite Pesach videos and had a little discussion about freedom, slavery, and plagues. Yael said the four questions (even though she got both giggly and shy) and I quizzed all the kids about all that they knew about Passover. And of course, we ate a yummy meal! We celebrated with friends and family and I consider it to be a wonderful and fun success!

How were your Seder experiences? 

Did you try anything new? Please share....I'd love to learn from you!