Will I ever be a good mother?

One of the things a full time student does to make a little money is ... babysitting.
The worth part of it is, that sometimes, I don't even get paid. But that's a choice. When I watch my best friend's baby, or my first cousin's 2 adorabel kids, I don't ask for money. But that's not what I wanna blog about...

I went one night to my cousin's house, and took care of her kids. I loved it ! Feed 'em, undress them, changing nappies, putting them to bed etc... I loved it !!
I loved being a mom for a few hours.

The next day, my best frienf called me saying she had this class in college till 7 PM that couldn't be missed, and asked me if she could leave her 7 months old adorable baby girl with me. Of course I agreed. And again, it was so much fun ! Playing with her, making a bottle, feeding her, watching every move of hers, putting her to sleep and so on...
I loved being a mum for a few hours.

A few days later, a girl around my age ( I did'nt know her) called me to ask me if I could come to her house and babysit her 11 month old daughter. I agreed, and I went. Same stuff. Make a bottle, feed, change, put to sleep and so on...
I hated being a mum for a few hours.

I sat down when she was sleeping and give that some thought. I hate dit because I didn't feel anything towards this kid. I loved taking care of babies I knew and babies I loved. I didn't like to take care of a total stranger.
And then I thought of the time when Iy"h I'll be a real mom. And when I'll wake up after labor in an hospital room, an they will pt my baby on me, and I got scared. What if i felt this baby was a total stranger to me. What if carrying him for 9 monhs didn't create a connection, a relationship. What if I was a bad mother? What if I didn't love my kids? And even worse, what if my kids knew it and didn't love me? This got me really really scared. It was even off-putting, because that kind of thought doesn't just go away.

No, I can't be a bad mother. I had an amazing one, I love kids, i will hopefully love mine. Hopefully. Here I go again.
And what if not??????????
That's it.
I'm officially scared of getting married because I'm scared of being a bad mom.

Broken engagements

I know. Divorce, Broken Engagement. Doesn't sound very optimistic. But let's face it. Life doesn't really give us reasons tobe optimistic...

I have this friend, she dated a guy for 3 months. She told me how different it felt from other guys she dated, and how so many things could have been fatal to their relationship and somehow, everything worked out so perfectly. How previous dates should have worked and didn't.
To cut a long story short, he proposed. She agreed. They got engaged. She got this glowing look and happy smile all brides-to-be have. She talks about the impression of feeling whole, and how everything was MinHaShamayim etc...

And then... A week or so after they got engaged, falls the terrible news.
They broke up.

I have this other friend ( not a close one, but still a friend) who dated a guy in the summer. Things weren't perfect, and after a while, they called off the Shidduch. So far, so good. But then, comes December, and they give it a new try. They are going out again.

Bingo ! They're engaged !!! They were set the big day for tonight (Tuesday).

And yes. On Thursday I heard they broke up. And on Sunday I heard they're back together and are getting married on Tuesday. And Monday I heard it's really over. And now it's Tuesday, and there's no wedding.

How can it be that two people date, enjoy each other's company, like each other for a long while, and when they finally make the big move, everything falls apart?

What is it in the engagement process that breaks the bond, the connection that was created during the dating period? Is it scary? Is it weird? Is marriage scary? Horrible?

Please, you people who went through this, tell me why this happens? Or that it doesn't really happen, and some people are actually happy....

Dear Diet

A long long long day...

Okay, I am all confused and i need to write about it. Today was a very long day.

It started with a late wake-up, a long exam in college, a race through the streets of Jerusalem, an afternoon at my cousin's and a date ( not mine!!!), a quick meal in a old restaurant, and a huge screaming at my roomates.

After the ritual late wake-up, run to college, take your exam and come out, i promised my cousin I'd come over to help her get ready. Tonight, she had her very first date. I grabbed something to eat, and took a bus to arrive to her place. After small talk, we talked businness, i.e. what are you gonna wear???
We picked a nice black pinnifore and a top to go under it. And then it hit me. I have at home the perfect headband that would change the whole world. So I jumped in a cab, told him to drive me home, wait for me a few minutes, and take me back to where we came from. I ran up the stairs, grabbed THE headband, my makeup bag ( you never know if she has enough), a necklace that looked good to me to match her outfit, and flew back down the stairs. When I was at her place again, WE started getting ready for HER date. When we were sure she looked fabulous, I gave her some tips from an experienced dater, and we took off. I dropped her in front of the hotel she was supposed to meet Mr Perfect, and, I took a walk. My walk lead me, surprinsgly enoough to the Western Wall. The Kotel Hamaaravi. I davened Maariv, said some Tehilim, prayed that everything should go well for her down there in the lobby of that hotel, and proceeded to walk back. i stopped for a drink. Walked around again. No aim whatsoever, just walking. Then she called me. She was done and she was hungry. We met again, and I could see the excitement on her face. The excitement of someone who has just been allowed to enter a casino, or just been allowed to stay up late at night. Basically, the excitement of feeling a grown up, part of the world of people who make life-depending decisions.
The date wasn't amazing ( but after all, what does she know about dating?), we ate in a restaurant, and went back to my place. I told her to sleep over.
What I didn't expect was the house I'd find when arrivieng home.
The sink was full as if the entire BMG had supper by us, leftovers on the tables (afterall, we're talking about Yeshiva Bachurim), dirt on the floor, an indescribable mess on the dinig room table, the bathroom in a disgusting state.
That was too much for me. I started to put away the dishes, wash what was dirty, clean up, clean up, clean up, clean up, clean up, clean up, clean up, clean up until I got a spotless house.
Oh, and along the way, I yelled. I yelled that I was fed up of living with girls ( all around my age), who basically do nothing during the day, and come home to a messy house, wher noones thinks of cleaning after himself, let alone do something for others. It felt good.

And of course, now that my appartment is spotless, my head is clear and I can think straight.
Why was I annoyed? Because the house was messy and dirty, or because the girls were so unconsiderate,

I am a giving person. I feel good when I do things for others, and I go absolutely nuts when I feel noone needs me. After all, during finals, I spent my whole afternoon picking an outfit for a date I didn't even think would work out.

I spend most of my davening time praying for my recently engaged brother, for my cousin on her first date, for my mother who's ill, for my single friends, for my friend's sister who was diagnosed with cancer. And then I asked Hashem to give me some strength and courage, to stay strong, to find a way for betterment within myself.

I am not a role model to the rest of the world, but there one thing I know I am not. Selfish. I am not selfish I am not selfabsorbed, selfcentered. My cousin asked me after 5 long hours how my exam was. None of the girls who live with me did. None of them offered to do their chores, and watched me sweating and feeling like a cleaning agent in a mall, where people come and go and don't really care about cleanliness.

I wanted to call home and find out how my mom's health was improving. no way to get through. I am nervous. So many things going on, so many mixed feelings. Anger, fear, sadness, proudness, selfpity and so on...

Hashem, I need help. I need to know how to focus on myself, not to get hurt by people who didn't mean to hurt me, who actually didn't. I need to learn patience and calmness.

I know I should have sat down, taken a long breath and tell them nicely to take a part in the hoousekeeping chores. Could have told my cousin I wasn't ready to sit down hear about her first date. Should have taken a long and warm shower, calmed down and realize. Realize I am not in control of the world. I am not in charge here. I don't have to feel responsible for everything.

I need to learn how to differenciate between altruism and being used.
Today, I didn"t feel I was giving so much. I felt I was being taken advantage of. I will try to not let that happen again.

Have a great Shabath.

PS I realize this post is totally uninteresting, but it felt good unearthing these feelings.

Mazal Tov....

My brother got engaged !!! Yay !!
I guess that means he's not Stuck in Shidduchim anymore......

Divorce

I know you don’t expect a blog whose title is shidduchim to have one of the first posts dealing with divorce. I am not going to talk about the scary rate of people who get a divorce a few months after they get married and how awful is that, and how it could have been prevented given that they were aware of the challenges, and nowadays and blablabla.

I am talking about parents. And shidduchim.

Let me put it this way: Are divorced parents a good enough reason to reject a SUGGESTION?

There are two theories on the subject.

Some say that children who came from divorced parents are more likely to emulate them, make the same mistakes and therefore, will probably end up divorced themselves, considering divorce as an option to a marriage that is falling apart. They also have commitment issues, or on the other end of the spectrum, will do anything to get married to escape their family.

Some say that children who have suffered a divorce in their home, are more likely to invest all they can to make their marriage work, are willing to make more compromises and so on.

And which one is true?

To my humble opinion, things are a little more complicated.

I find it true that those children who came from a broken home have as a role-model a broken couple. True, they are missing out on a lot. And even truer, they might want to get married in order to escape from their house. But if we look at it the other way, they are also kind of gifted. They are aware that marriage is something fragile, something that needs to be handled carefully, dealt with care and devotion; selflessness and altruism. And it’s not an emergency exit they are looking for, rather looking forward to build, instead of watching something destroyed. And yes, they are willing to compromise much more, they are able to identify attitudes that might be destructive whereas children who grew up in regular homes, might not be able to know what could be the consequences of some of their attitudes. And yes, they might consider divorce an option. But I find that this is intrinsically connected to the commitment issue.

In fact, I find that they are reluctant to commit, not because they are scared to get married, but because they are scared that the other person might leave them, just like one of the parents did to the other. They know the risk as a reality, not just as statistics. And in that way, that’s how divorce becomes an option. Because they are scared that if things don’t work out, it’ll end just like their parents’ marriage did. And it will hurt just like it hurt when the parents split up. They know they will do anything to make the marriage work, to avoid anymore suffering, but what if he/she doesn’t feel that way?

And then, technical issues, who comes to visit when, how to tell the kids, who will pay for the wedding expenses…

I get it, marrying someone who comes from a broken home can be off-putting, scary.

And what about marrying an orphan? Ah, it’s not his fault at all? Well, it’s not his fault his parents divorced either. And if things were done the right way, he might have less suffering buried inside than the orphan.

Who are we? How can we decide that a person isn’t good enough for you because his parents were wise enough to split up to save them from witnessing fights, conflicts and tears?

I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences on the subject.

You, whoever you are, if anyone is reading me…

The feeling of being judged

I feel judged.

I feel judged by my roommates, watching me get up late, and thinking “what is she still doing in bed?”
I feel judged by the cashier at the grocery store, scanning the items and thinking “how can she eat so much?”
I feel judged by my classmates, watching me scribbling on my notebook, thinking “why is she not taking notes?”
I feel judged by the people in the street, staring at me, thinking about my look, my hair, my clothes, my extra pounds, my shoes, my bag, the expression on my face, thinking “ how can she look like this if she’s trying to get married?”

I feel judged by the guy at the gym, by the kid in the bus, by my teacher. I feel judged.

I feel that people are constantly assessing me, according to their own standards, and putting me down, pulling me down. I want to tell them I don’t care, that I am indifferent to their judgment, and that they should get a life.

But why does it disturb me so much? Because those things really bother me. Because I wish I could get out of bed faster, and I wish I could stop spending money on food, etc..

And then I realized. I realized people aren’t judging me. I am. I am judging myself.

I feel guilty to stay late in bed, and I feel guilty to buy so much junk food, and I feel guilty to sit in class without taking notes, and I feel guilty not to be able to lose way and make some efforts into my looks. But it’s much easier to find that other people make quick judgments without getting the whole picture, than actually do something about all those things that deep inside, scream for improvement.

People don't judge, becuse people don't actually care. Or they have thoughts thats, weirdly, don't match at all our assumptions. Maybe the girl next to me in class, wondering how can I remember everything whithout jotting it down and she's jealous. Maybe people in the street think, wow, she walks fast, or, maybe, they are not even thinking anything, they are just looking, because, you've go look somewhere...

So here I go, back to square one, with my issues. They distub me and only me, and I am the only one who can deal with it.

What's for starters?

A blog? Why a blog?

I guess I was tired reading other people's blog, when I have what to say too.
I have no idea what i am going to say, to talk about.
For a short introduction, I am an jewish educated young  girl, in college, dreaming of changing the system, constantly thinking about different ways to achieve it.
English is not my mother's tongue, but weirdly enough, is the language I feel the most at ease with.
So, dear future readers, please bear with the few mistakes that will inevitable happen along the way. Please, leave comments and I will try to respond to them to the best of my abilities. I want to have your opinion, and also, I just want to know someone's reading me. So even if you have nothing to say, just to say ''great post" or "totally boring" and Iwill know I am not just writing just for myself, although it would be a good enough reason to write anyway. But I'll leave that thought for a later post.

I hope you'll enjoy reading my blog as much as I enjoy writing it.