Doing it for the Kids - Yeah!

Happy

It really is a kid's world here.  Seriously - calling all kids out there - do you want to rule the world, have no boundaries, never get told off, push, scream and yell at whoever you want, tell adults to shove it if they even attempt to tell you what to do, run wild, and eat sugar all day???? - then Israel awaits you.......perhaps steer clear once you get to your late teens - then you're off to the army for years, and you better enjoy early mornings, push-ups and the colour khaki.  It's amazing how quickly you adjust to seeing teenagers walking the streets sporting massive weaponry.  They don't even have to be in uniform.  We walked past a heavily tattooed dude the other day who had an M-16 casually slung over his shoulder.  If this sight was viewed in Tassie - the scream would go out "He's got a GUN!!!".  People would begin screaming, pushing, and running in terror.  Old ladies would be mowed down in the stampede, and children would be used as human shields.  But here - nobody bats an eyelid.  I too am used to seeing the heavily armed men on patrol at the kid's kindergarten, and think nothing of having my bag searched every time I enter a shopping centre, and sometimes a cafe.  Being asked if I've got a weapon no longer sounds like a wacky enquiry but a fair enough ask, and dancing in a nightclub waving a machine gun above one's head (actually viewed once by my husband) sounds like a lot of fun.

Flower fairies

But never is there more of a kid's celebration anywhere than the festival of Purim in Israel.  Apparently in Australia, Jewish people celebrate by wearing a costume one day.....what evs - just 1 lousy day??? Boring!......but here......oh my.  So far, the celebrations for the kids have been going on for 10 days.  They have been in a different costume everyday (as organised by their teachers) - smurfs, elves, clowns, face painted animals, queens, funny hat day, and finally the grand finale of Freestyle Costume Day - this was the Rapunzel/Snow White extravaganza.  There were actually 3 Snow Whites and 2 Rapunzels this year in Vali and Cordi's class.  And these other princesses had far classier outfits - the adoring parents had especially ordered them online (and boasted to me how amazing they were).  And admitably they were pretty special - completely kicking the arses of Vali and Cordi's tacky pieces of tattered shit that I bought last year from Toys R Us in New York - outfits which they have been eating and sleeping in on occasion, over the last 8 months.  But seeing as I ordered brand new $6 wigs from the UK to bring the outfits together,  V & C's Princess looks completely trumped all the other Snow Whites and Rapunzels.  As soon as they caught sight of those glorious 6 buck manes, the non wig-wearing Disney Princesses were all howling because they didn't have the proper hair. There was meant to be a parade as well, but the weather was shit (the weather is NEVER shit here by the way) and so the parade for the school is tomorrow, with the parade for the whole entire city - to be held next Friday.....and thus it stretches on for even longer.

Clowns

"Dwarf" Day - How politically incorrect - I think they meant "Elves"

Homemade Smurfs

It's all about the wigs people

Scary or cute?

Slutty Angel

And it's not just the kids who are going all out.  Purim here for adults is far bigger than NYE.  In fact it is a religious requirement to get rolling drunk at Purim - God orders it be so, so put on your outfits and getting sculling.  Purim is the only holiday that is just about fun - and I have to admit, it's a beauty.  The traditional story behind it, is all about when Queen Ester saved the Jews from annihilation from some total bastard called Haman - who is such a prick that whenever his name is said during the telling of the Purim story, everybody shakes rattles as loudly as possibly to block it out.  The streets run thick with candies and gifts, and people get round in costumes for days.

I like seeing all the different looks around town.  Some are genius (Tammy), some are cool (Amit), some are pathetic - it would be wrong to mention names here.....  and a considerable amount are slutty - or as is preferred - "sexy".  I still say slutty though.  What is it about the slut look that everyone loves so much - slutty policewoman, slutty nurse, slutty cat, slutty cowgirl, slutty angel, slutty devil, slutty school girl, slutty fairy, slutty slut.....the list is endless - everything can be slutorised - and is.  There was a street party stretching all around our neighbourhood last night.  For god's sake - what a bunch of noisy drunkards - I hope they all feel sick today.  I am lame and did not join in the merriment.  This is mainly because I am boring, but also was because I was buggarised.  I'd been at the synagogue that day for an early morning start.  No, I am not getting swayed by the lure of religious ecstasy at 8am on my only sleeping-in day - but instead I was there for the pre-wedding celebrations for my husband's nephew who is getting married this Wednesday.  Chalks was there to chant a blessing for his nephew which was pretty special and important, while I was there to throw lollies at the groom - which is part of the duties of the women pre-wedding - and also to let my children eat candies for breakfast.

That's what I'm talking about....hmmm the slutty bee, that's a new one

The gimp does the limbo

Purim goes off in Tel Aviv

Show us what you've got ladies

Buck up smurfs

Marge Simpson - I like this one

For anyone who has never been to a synagogue let me explain a little from what I can gather.  Men and women cannot sit together - they have to enter through separate doors.  The men are involved in praying, chanting, wearing shawls (called tallit) and kippahs, reading holy scrolls and doing some kind of secret dance with special hand movements under a sheet that nobody is allowed to see.  Especially not the women.  We sit separately above, or in this particular synagogue, next to the men's area (but blocked by a wall and a curtain).  We don't do much.  You can follow along in the Bible if you read Hebrew.....but apparently women aren't even required by Jewish law to attend synagogue.  It's a bit of a chauvinistic approach really - and this apt description was given in class by my Hebrew teacher - who in in fact religious herself  - when she explained that women are considered unclean.  Really religious men will not even touch a woman - including shaking their hand when introduced -as I found out in our local carpet shop when I held out my hand after our salesman had enthusiastically pumped Mark's paw, and mine was disdainfully rejected.  But what religion doesn't discriminate between the sexes?  I prefer to think of it as women are so naturally spiritual that they don't need all the bullshit religious crap that's imposed on male worshippers.

Just substitute "Hanukkah Party" with any Jewish celebration or event

Apparently all the synagogue regulars aren't big on the usually non-religious-only-there-for-the-wedding attendees - especially not non- Jews who give their children colouring books to do while they wait for the candy toss.  I got severely reprimanded by a lady in an unflattering hat, and of course had no idea that it was forbidden to put pen to paper on the Sabbath, I thought she was worried they were going to draw on the bench so I was trying to assure her that they would be really careful.....hmmmm.....not popular......But as I said, it's a kid's world here, so as soon as the kids have gathered enough lollies to rot the teeth of an entire Cambodian orphanage, they break free and go and play on the play equipment out the front, which is also a lot more fun than sitting in a place with a lot of disapproving looks and "SSSSSSHHHHHH's" being thrown your way.

Nice point Jeremy....nice point

At least Vali and Cordi have finally been accepted as new citizens.  Things were looking rough over the last few months due to my heathen status.  Apparently Chalks as the Baby Daddy was called into question due to our relationship being considered a bit on the suss side, and there was almost the need for a court ordered DNA test which would have cost a pretty penny.  Bugger that, we should have just booked a spot on Jeremy Kyle and got one for free.  The main reason for the suspicion over my sperm donor, was that our wedding was held after the kids had entered this world some 4 years previously, plus the fact that we don't have joint bank accounts, have never been on the lease for a rental together, and basically haven't owned anything together (mainly because we don't own anything).  But following several visits to the worst place in the the entire world - The Immigration Office - and many unpleasant encounters with a woman who looked like a walrus, we got a foot in the door with the actual head of the department (following a few pulled strings thanks to our connections with medical royalty) - visited her a few times, narrowly avoided court, and finally got the stamp.   For me, it's going to take a little longer.  I don't even get an interview to enquire about gaining temporary status until September.......nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'm going to the garden to eat worms (that was one DEMENTED childhood song by the way - who's with me on this??).

It's Twilight Sparkle and her Star of David cutie mark

If my children want to keep up the illusion of being Israeli citizens they had better toe the line.  Two things happened on Saturday that alerted me to the fact that I am raising a couple of shiksas.  The first was Vali's reaction when she saw the huge Star of David on the synagogue wall.  She pointed to it, and shouted out "Look Mum!  It's Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark".  For all you thickies that aren't up with MLP (that's My Little Pony by the the way) - a pony gets a special and original pattern on it's butt once it graduates from foal to pony.  Apparently Twilight Sparkle (the purple one with wings and a unicorn horn) has a star on it's hind quarters.  See........who says that this blog is full of drivel and you never learn anything important.  The other faux pas made by my offspring happened while I was getting a plate of food for her at the kosher brunch following the synagogue outing.  Vali started yelling at me from up the stairs "Mumma get me pig-meat!!!!  Mumma, I want PIG-MEAT".  I was trying to hush her, and she just kept saying it over and over.  This random request for ham comes up at the strangest times.  The first thing she asked for when she finally got better after her brush with pneumonia was "pig meat" - on that occasion I got some sliced turkey and pretended it was a new white variety.  But seriously, how random; #1 For not calling it "ham", and #2 For wanting to eat it in the first place as the girls almost never want to eat meat - they are going through a empathetic stage toward eating animals themselves, yet at the same time are totally fascinated that people and other animals eat animals and want to see photographs on the internet of lions savaging zebras and a snake eating a crocodile.......

A day in Paris

So..... currently I am Dubai awaiting my 15 hour flight to Melbourne.  FIFTEEN hours!  Jesus, I must really love my cousin.  This is following a 4 hour flight from Tel Aviv to Paris and a 9 hour stopover there - charming by the way, yet god dam FREEZING.  And just recently, a 7 hours flight from Paris to my current location.  But I have my eyepatch on the ready, my earplugs set to go, eyedrops, a spray can of facial Evian and a sleeping pill on standby to get me to Australia.  Bring it!!!

*Update;  I have finally made it to Tasmania.  On the upside, my plane didn't get kidnapped by aliens or terrorists.  On the downside, I have had 3 hours of sleep since Monday morning and I saw a woman in the row in front of me shake her newborn baby to get it to shut up......I must admit it was a pretty annoying baby and I was thinking the same thing, however I'm pretty sure that kind of thing is kind of illegal these days.....

I'm going to miss you and everything girls.....

But then there's freedom - (Should I have waited until they weren't looking before I did this???)

Health, Hebrew and Homecoming

Of course

It's almost sad really that I continue to push on with this drivel.  This blog is sicker than Christopher Skase at his last court appearance...... allegedly that is, but then I guess he did die from stomach cancer, so maybe that wheel chair wasn't a prop.......It also doesn't help matters that I'm slacker than Boy George's arsehole either.  But what can I do?  I've got a million excuses, but sitting firmly on top of the list is pneumonia.....And I'm pretty sure that one's a slam dunk straight to Pity-ville.  That would be pity from you to me, in case you were wondering.  Well good old pneumonia, and various other ailments have seen me nursing my entire family through a myriad of germs and diseases since Christmas time.  I never truly understood the germ pits of cess and human misery that are child care centres.  Although I knew friend's kids that came home with school sores, hand foot and mouth disease and green snot oozing from every orifice - but I never really had to deal with that kind of shit before.  I just googled a picture of school sores for this blog, but have been too busy cleaning the vomit off my keyboard to post it......seriously, YUK.

But with fresh, untainted immune systems, V and C were basically bacterial sponges. For 8 weeks I battled the twin evil demons of Princess Phlegm and Sir Snot.  At the climax of the war, over a 10 day period, I ended up with shit, piss and vomit in my bed.  I got vomited on three times - some of which went in my mouth.  I was up for large portions during the night, and wore earplugs in the day to muffle the howling.  I administered so much panadol,  that I should have bought shares in the local paracetamol company; and basically wore both my children at various time like some lumpy, heavy, heated piece of uncomfortable clothing.

This is what you get when you search "Latvian Stripper"

During one of these more unfortunate periods - when Vali got pneumonia and lost about 3 kg in a week my husband had a business trip.  This was extremely ill-timed, but unavoidable.  I could not leave the house.  Ever.  I couldn't even take Cordi to school as Vali was too sick to be put in the car for the journey.  I ended up paying one of the kindergarten teachers to pick her up and drop her off via taxi.  And as I lay there holding my limp, white, unconscious child in my arms; meanwhile in a random eastern European nation, my husband addressed business strategy by day, and by night got absolutely blind with other computer nerds, the highlight (for me) being when he sobbed and embraced a Syrian IT dude - with both of them hugging and weeping "We're all brothers, we're all brothers........" .  This was obviously in response to the political issues that have gripped Israel and Syria over the last decade or two.  Anyway the two of them swore eternal friendship as they glugged vodka straight from the bottle and watched 7 foot Latvian pole dancers show them their fannies.  World peace right there everyone - At the next UN conference they can all just empty a couple of bottles of Grey Goose each, visit some "exotic dancers" and look at boobies......and thus, all the troubles of world could be solved.  But back in Latvia, my husband proceeded to steal alcohol from the VIP area - suffer a paranoia attack and bolt into the snow where he got totally lost for hours in freezing conditions while trying to find his hotel (it was, for the record, directly opposite from the strip club).

I love how random his conferences are.  I think I once mentioned my all time favourite business trip story, when one was held in Denmark, and everyone had to dress up like vikings and row a long boat in a moat, then fight a tournament with large sticks, and later consume a feast of mead and roasted baby pigs.

My poor shiny eyed baby

But back to the warm, dark, stuffy, germ filled "House of Happiness" in Tel Aviv.  When I finally took Vali back to school - looking very white and very small - the cutest thing in the world happened, which I am writing about because I don't ever want to forget it.  I took her into the classroom to say hello to all her school chums one afternoon when she was well enough to  put on her clothes and come and pick up Cordi with me.  She had been away from school for 8 days and was still not back to her normal self.  When the children saw her, with utter joy they cried out "Vali Vali we miss you", and one by one they all came to her and put her arms around her.  The entire class all surrounded Vali in a giant group hug.  They were all just so happy to see her.  I actually cried.  It was the most beautiful, spontaneous thing I ever saw from a group of 17 four year olds.  Just so so special.  Vali was so happy that everyone missed her so much.  I'm telling you, it was moving.

Anyway, it wasn't long after that the disease finally penetrated my shields - vomit directly in the mouth can do that.  And I would like to say that I have never been so sick.  There were actually times when I really thought I could die.  It lasted almost a month - with an especially bad week in the middle where I literally could not get out of bed.  I didn't even lay eyes on Vali and Cordi for 2 days - my husband ran the ship - I ate nothing for days, and when I finally crawled out of my hole, I have never seen a scarier sight than what looked back at me from the bathroom mirror.  Hair = one clump of matted frizz.  Face = grey and shrivelled.  Body = dry and wasted.   I looked like a dying neanderthal....

Trying for Lady Mary, ending up Mrs Patmore

So there we have it.  And in between all of that nonsense I turned 40 - threw a Downton Abbey themed birthday party, rolled my hair under into an extremely unflattering hairstyle, fucked up the batches of scones, and nursed Vali - who was downstairs in misery, as people danced the Charleston above with a lemon tart in one hand and a cucumber sandwich in the other.  The poor little poppet.  She tried so hard to feel better and helped decorate the cupcakes in the morning - only to suffer a relapse and ended up passed out in her party frock for the entire party.

Over this hole

Second on the list in regards to my futile attempts to keep this crappiola limping along, has been the time spent studying Hebrew.  I swear, it's like having a full time job.  I go to class 3 day a week for 5 hours a day, and then all of my free time in the evening, and my days off are spent doing my homework and studying.  And I am still one of the worst in the class.......I was never of those people who studied much at school and despite that penchant for laziness, I did annoyingly well - but now I am studying ALL the time, and getting nowhere.  I can't take it.

This is where I spend my days.....

In fact so bad am I, that I tell everyone around me that I never have a chance to study or do my homework because of the kids.  It is of course a lie, and along the same vein as the lie I tell about how much time I spent in Japan as to explain my pathetic grasp of the national language there......I also had to set up an alternate Facebook page so that I could befriend my Hebrew teacher and all the other class-members.  Originally I set up the new identity so I could write blogs about all the people in the class and bitch about them - like the Russian student's outfits (tight and tacky with visible g-string) and the arseholeness of some of the French students who stink of cigarettes and cheese and sit up the bag talking loudly in French all lesson - but hmmmmm - I like them all too much by now.  Yes, there's another thing I didn't get around to doing.  Learning Hebrew is fucking up me slagging off learning Hebrew.

I don't even know what this says, but this picture makes me feel like punching out that kid

I don't know you.  I don't know any of you.

Anyway in regards to my new identity, gone is the stoopid profile picture of me sticking my finger up Hello Kitty's arsehole, now replaced with the adoring Emily Korman - "Serene Mother" pictured in her wedding dress, smiling and cuddling her two blonde angels.  Don't try to befriend my under my new identity - I will not accept any of you rif raf as friends of my new pure persona.  You'll put evil techno music on my pristine page, or send articles about how doing a poo can give you an orgasm, or some other various assorted hippy shit about loving plants, inter-galactic beings or some other crap.  I think I will also befriend all the kindergarten mothers under my new identity as well, as I really don't want them to know either that I took acid in the 90s and over-use "cunt" when writing blogs about my children.

So that's me - studying Hebrew night and day, spending my life savings on tissues, and fending off friendships by ignoring texts and dreaming up excuses.  But behold the incredible light at the end of the tunnel.  I am blowing this popsicle stand, on Monday, THIS coming Monday, for a SOLO 10 day trip to Tasmania, followed by a family trip in France, followed by my parents coming to Israel for a month.  This is very exciting news........stay tuned....or don't actually......I probably won't resurface until May.  Wish Chalky luck - I don't think he knows how to use a hairbrush or cook anything apart from toast and omelettes - but I guess dreadlocks have their place, and who doesn't love eggs?