Oh Christmas Tree!

What does a Christmas tree mean to you?

Growing up Jewish, I didn't have one. I enjoyed helping friends decorate their trees. As an adult I spent the holiday season treeless and I was okay with that. Jews do menorahs, not trees. Then I married someone who celebrates Christmas and we put up a tree. When the children were old enough I started making ornaments with them, every year something different. Family, friends and students provided ornaments. Over the years they have accumulated and each ornament has a story, a history. 

This year when the holiday season approached I wanted everything to be as normal as possible for my children because they are dealing with a lot of change in their life right now. So I put up the holiday decorations including the tree. I enjoyed seeing which ornaments the boys wanted to put up, the ones that are special to them. My ten-year-old's favorites are from school, especially the glass reindeer his beloved teacher made for him- twice. He told me the story as he put it up, "Mom, do you remember when it broke at school and I was SO SAD and I CRIED and then Mrs. Cox made me another one and this is it and it is SO SPECIAL!" He made sure to put it up high so Bad Kitty and Skippyjon Jones can't break it. 

My thirteen-year-old likes to put up the plastic icicles and Harry Potter characters. I put up my own favorites first, the ones made with the kids over the years and those with pictures of the boys, then the beautiful glass ornaments and gorgeous balls sent by Lisa from Germany. Each one holds a special memory of the person who made it or gave it to me, such as the Alaska ornament my mother brought back from her trip; the "teacher" ornaments from students; the family ornament from my music teacher friend is bittersweet since we are no longer a family of four. 

This year as I pulled out ornaments I split them up just as I have with dishes, silverware, and movies. Some for him, some for me. Dishes can be replaced. They are simply things. Some ornaments are replaceable, but most are not and that is what makes them special. Such a tough business, the dividing of memories. 

But it has to be done. Things change. But some things stay the same. There are fewer ornaments, but we still have a Christmas tree. 

I love to look at the tree. It is beautiful. It is special. It is full of stories. It is history. 

Yet it also creates dissonance because Jews don't usually have Christmas trees. I saw the look on my mother's face when she walked into my house this year and saw it. Surprise- and maybe a little disappointment? I don't think she expected me to put up a tree now that I'm not living with a husband that celebrates Christmas. I put up the tree for my children, but in the process I discovered that it is also special to me. The Jewish girl has learned the magic of the Christmas tree. But it is a little surreal to have a Christmas tree with Chanukah presents under it. And I feel a bit guilty, somehow. So I made blue Chanukah ornaments for the tree. I hope that gives my mother a little comfort. But I doubt it. Sorry, mom. Hopefully we'll both get used to it.

Some of the new ornaments this year... a Minecraft Creeper and a dreidel.

Today is the day after Christmas. I don't want to think about taking down the ornaments and decorations. It's sad. But it has to be done. 

The kitties will also be sad when the tree is gone, but for different reasons. To them, the tree is a delightful chew toy covered in kitty toys. It is my job as their human to put the toys back on the tree when they are done playing with them so they can knock them off again. I'm well-trained.

Skippyjon Jones trying to decide which ornament to play with next... so many choices... 

Today's post is about taking on Christian traditions after being brought up Jewish. And trying not to feel guilty about it. Very few books take on this topic or even have Jewish characters. Until recently all of them were set during the Holocaust and those stories never have a happy ending. So I was super excited to read Amy Fellner Dominy's wonderful book OyMG. The main character is Jewish and nobody dies! 

In OyMG, Ellie gets a scholarship to the summer camp of her dreams which happens to be a Christian camp. When this leads to some challenges her strong Jewish grandfather encourages her to stand up for her values. He also is really good at making her feel guilty, which of course I could totally relate to. It's a fun book where the main character learns a lot about herself. It's excellent for tweens/teens, and adults that like to read kids' lit. 

Happy Holidays to all. Whether you have a tree, a menorah, or a Chanukah bush, I hope that you are enjoying it guilt-free. 

Gratefulness

I'm turning 40 next week. Lately I find myself saying things like, "That was 25 years ago!" And that makes me feel a bit old. Then I think of my grandmother who had 97 active years before leaving us two weeks ago, and thinking about having another 57 years ahead of me feels so much better than leaving 40 years behind. I've been reflecting recently about all that I've learned from my grandmother. There are the big life lessons such as the importance of taking care of yourself and of helping others; then there are the fun lessons like how to bake challah bread and play Rummy Q. But right now the lesson I appreciate the most is strength. She lived to 97, and lived well, after overcoming difficult obstacles. She was born with a hole in her heart, had to leave her family in Nazi Germany with only $2.50 in her pocket to start a new life in America, and then lost her family in the concentration camps. Yet she got through those hardships and still kept going every day, active to the end, always busy. She visited nursing homes for so many years that she was older than most of the people she was visiting. After surgery at 94 to fix a broken leg she not only survived but persevered to walk again and continued to live independently and actively. Her life inspires me to stay strong through life's changes and challenges.

My grandmother stayed physically strong by exercising. She liked to work out to a videotape called "Richard Simmons' Silver Foxes." I once asked her if exercising made her achy or tired, and she said that it actually had the opposite effect. Recently this inspired me to start a daily exercise routine, and I am grateful for how this is helping me cope with life stresses, including her death. No, I don't use her Richard Simmons' Silver Foxes VHS. I'm not a silver fox yet. Wii Fit is more my style, and the cats like to use it, too.

Now, onto the books. This is, after all, the Book Kitty Blog. The book kitties Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty are from two of my favorite picture books.  And speaking of exercise and picture books, I recommend The Gulps by Rosemary Wells if you want a book for kids about exercising and eating right.

After growing up hearing my grandmother's stories, I have been drawn to read literature about the holocaust.  The Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen is one of the best. I read it with my 6th graders when we studied WWII.

My first principal, Don Streets, recommended excellent books including All But My Life. The author, holocaust survivor Gerda Weissmann Klein, tells her incredible story and made me grateful for what I have in my life.

I am grateful for books that enrich my life; I am grateful that I had my grandmother in my life for 40 years; and I am grateful for the lessons that she taught me. And even though they can be naughty... I am grateful for the Book Kitties.

Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty

Plotting world domination while they nap

Cat Box Philosophizing

As I scoop the litter box tonight I ponder the state of my life- getting divorced with children; dealing with a death in the family; turning 40; and all in December. I tie the ends of the heavy bag of kitty waste to lug outside on this cold, rainy night and see that a cat is- of course- drinking out of the cup I left on the table, silly me. He shouldn’t be on the table, and he shouldn’t be drinking my water, but that’s never stopped him before. I realize, finally, that I must write the Book Kitty Blog.

The Book Kitties appeared in my life on Mother’s Day 2010. They were abandoned by their own mother on Mother’s Day, and lay mewling and helpless in the driveway.We fed them kitty formula with a dropper and put them in a cardboard box with a heating pad in it. To our amazement they lived and thrived. And it quickly became apparent to everyone (though I am pretty sure that Faith called it) that these were no ordinary orphaned kittens. We had rescued Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty!

Yes, the book kitties are alive and well and living in my house, eating and pooping and being generally mischievous as you would expect Skippyjon Jones and Bad Kitty to be.



They are training me well. So far they have taught me to only halfheartedly discipline them when they are naughty since they don’t care anyway. They laugh at the water bottle sprayer and scoff at yells and hisses. I pick them up and hug them now when they are naughty- that REALLY irritates them. Bad Kitty has trained me to give him his own bowl of vegetables so he doesn’t have to steal them off the table. Whenever I am near a bathroom faucet I turn it on for him so he can drink out of his own personal fountain. Yes, I am a well-trained human. But I still forget about cleaning the litter box sometimes so they are trying to train me by leaving little poop presents right next to, but not quite inside, the litter box. Subtle. And it totally works. I wanted to wait until morning, but the box got cleaned tonight… exactly according to their nefarious plan.

My whole life may be changing, but one thing is constant: the litter box always needs to be cleaned.