Tuesday, December 30, 2008
"Would you compromise in shiduchim?"
It's a common question, which I face often. And my answer is, always, "Absolutely NOT!" Are you surprised? Why? Would I be expected to compromise? Why? ;) Ok, I know why you may think so, but listen to me first.
Yes, I would be willing to marry a boy with a "BUT", even a boy with TBB. But it's not a compromise. Here's why.
All day, every day, Hashem is busy making shiduchim. Forty days before I was born, he decided who I am going to marry and when I'm going to marry him. Now the issue is getting us together. He's there. I'm here. But we need to match. Imagine each couple is a two piece puzzle. Whatever ridges and grooves there are in me (my piece of the puzzle), have to correspond to whatever ridges and grooves he has. Think about it! It's a massive job, one that would only be able to be done properly by the Master Planner himself.
How can we get SD and DPC to be compatible? Well, if SD has been and changed in xyz way, then she needs a boy who has been through ----- and has changed similarly. Not as a result of diabetes, but some other things I've been through, I don't think I would be able to marry a boy who hasn't matured (in my way). We simply wouldn't be very compatible. I have bumps on my puzzle piece. Don't get me wrong. These are bumps that have made me into a better person. But, I have them, and they ain't going away. I need someone who has them too.
It's as simple as that. I don't call it a compromise. It's a matter of fitting together.
Would I compromise? No, I wouldn't marry a lesser boy. Yes, I would marry a BETTER boy.
It's as simple as that.
So, back to our discussion:
~Have I changed?
~Is change even good?
~How do you define maturity?
Here is my answer(s):
~Yes I have changed.
~Change can be good or bad depending on what kind of change.
~ Change is good if it leads to maturity.
~ I wouldn't compromise, but I WOULD marry a more mature boy.
Did that make any sense? Probably not, but it's as much sense as I can make, as this is my view of things, take it or leave it.... :-)
Monday, December 29, 2008
My siblings-in they flew,
Brothers from Yeshivah,
And married siblings too.
My usually empty room,
Got a roommate for the night.
It was my quietest niece,
So I thought I'd be alright.
It was really really late,
2:30 to be precise,
When my niece woke me up screaming,
'Twas hard to be so nice!
But I knew she was hungry,
And needed to be fed,
So before her cries woke up the house,
I jumped up outta bed.
I tried to make a bottle,
But I'm really not the best,
I'd never made one in my life,
So I got put to the test,
I tried to find a bottle,
And I needed formula too!
But meanwhile my niece screamed,
Quite a tantrum she threw!
I wanted to take her into my arms,
And cuddle her real tight,
And say to her "shush little one
Everything will be alright!"
"I know you want that bottle,
I'm making it for you!
But it takes some time to make it
Taste just right for you!
I'm working as fast as I possibly can,
To put your troubles to an end
But please calm down meanwhile,
And to your cries I'll tend!"
And then I realized, as I finish,
That I do the very same thing,
I want health, happiness, a good job,
And of course, I want a ring!
I scream and cry, I beg and plead,
That Hashem should hurry and give,
All that I ask for, and then,
Happily ever after I'll live!
So Hashem takes me in his arms,
And hugs me really tight,
And he says "shush little one,
Everything will be alright"
"I know you want some of this,
And some of that sounds nice,
I'll give it all to you,
You don't have to ask twice!
But please exhibit patience,
Rome wasn't built in a day,
As soon as the time is right,
I'll send yeshuos your way.
So please calm down right now,
There's no need to scream and cry,
I can't give it to you today,
Soon you'll see the reason why,"
So for now, I must stay calm,
And recognize my place,
While this wait is something not so fun,
It's something I must face.
The good is there, it might just take,
A bit of time to prepare,
So I'll have to stop my crying,
I won't shed another tear!
My niece's bottle I prepare,
At the quickest possible pace,
So too, I feel content to know,
I'm in Hashem's embrace!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
There was a young couple, not too long after their wedding, who received excellent news. They were soon going to be parents! For nine exciting months, they planned and dreamed. One bright day, her contractions started. A quick ride to the hospital, a few grueling hours of labor, and the first cries were heard. Their little miracle was born. A little baby boy. It wasn't too much later that the doctor came into her room, grim faced. In a solemn tone, the doctor told them that he has some bad news. The parents were shocked. THEIR baby? How could it be? Their baby is surely perfect! Nothing could be wrong, could it? With trembling hands and terror in their voices, the parents asked the doctor for further information. So the doctor explained. "Your baby has been born with a life threatening condition. We don't know when it will kill him. It might be an hour, a day, a week, a month. Maybe it will be after a year, or several years, but surely it will kill him. It might kill him suddenly, with absolutely no warning. It might kill him after a prolonged illness which might cause him untold suffering and pain. He may have to be hospitalized a number of times to treat complications of his condition. He may have trouble in school as a result of his condition. It might cause him difficulty making and keeping friends. Other children might taunt him as a result of his condition. It's even possible your son will suffer from mental >or emotional issues stemming from his condition." The parents are stunned. Speechless. They can't believe the way their dreams and hopes just blew away in an instant. When he finally finds his voice, the father ventures to ask "What about research? Are they working on a cure, or at least a treatment, for my son's condition?" Sadly, the doctor shook his head. He explained that due to the nature of the condition, there simply is nothing that modern science can do about it. The brand-new mother manages to stammer out, in a tear-choked voice, "what is this horrible condition from which my son suffers? What is it called?"To that the doctor replied very simply: "it's called life."
Yes. Life. Life will cause all of this bad things to happen to a person. And everyone eventually does die from "life". So what is it that makes a new baby's birth a joyous occasion, rather than a cause for mourning? The answer lies in Chanukah. On chanukah, we celebrate our triumph over the Greeks. They didn't want to kill us. They wanted to kill our purpose in life. They wanted to take away our ability to learn Torah, to do Mitzvos, to do Hashem's will. On Chanukah, we celebrate our freedom to do all of these things. We celebrate that our lives are not a means of getting to our deaths, but rather, getting to something much greater than anything we can experience in this world. And so, at Chanukah parties all over the world, as people celebrate the festival of lights with donuts and latkes, try to remember: Chanukah is about living an enlightened existence. It's about raising ourselves up from the depressing existence called "life". It's about getting from here to Olam Habah, not from here to death. That being said, enjoy your latkes and your donuts. Oh, AND your life. Happy Chanukah!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Girl 1: She is a model student. Her teachers love her because she always behaves in class, does her work, and does well on tests. She takes notes in all her classes. Her loose leaf is always perfectly neat, with all her papers exactly in place. Her behavior in school is impeccable. She is quiet and refined, and keeps to herself.
Girl 2: She is a less than perfect student. Her teachers find themselves gritting their teeth when they think of her. She often falls asleep in class. Her teachers can't figure out why, despite being quite smart, she is always flunking tests-due to lack of effort. Instead of taking notes, during class she is drawing nasty pictures of the teachers. She will always be the one laughing in the hallways over the latest joke. (And it's very likely she is laughing very loudly.)
You are probably shaking your head, saying to yourself, man is that second girl a BABY! She should learn a little from that first girl. So let me add on the following scenario:
Girl 1: Her father is very sick and needs to be rushed to the emergency room by ambulance. She panics and runs to her bedroom in tears, and she won't come out.
Girl 2: Her father is very sick and needs to be rushed to the emergency room by ambulance. She helps her father get together whatever he might need in the hospital, sends her little brother out to wait for the ambulance (to make sure they know where to go). When hatzolah arrives, she brings them into the room, answers their questions, and helps them with whatever they need to take care of. After sending the little siblings to their friends, she drives to the hospital to sit in the emergency room with her mother. When her father finally gets admitted, despite being 4 am, she drives her mother and herself home, so that they can catch a few hours sleep before she drives back the next morning...
Ok, are you getting the picture? Girl 1 is MP, and Girl 2 is yours truly, SD.
Am I saying that I am the height of maturity? As all of my high school teachers would surely agree, I am FAR from the most mature person you'll ever meet. But, MP, who conveys such a perfectly mature image, is a whole lot less mature. According to MY definition of mature.
Does it really matter how loud or quiet someone acts? Who cares if I make a lot of jokes? Ok, maybe I laugh a little loud, but does that really matter? Wouldn't you say, that the thing that matters most is how a person reacts in the face of adversity? In a crisis situation, who would you prefer to have around? MP or SD? Is maturity measured by the amount of laughter included in a person's day? Or is it measured by things that matter a little more. Here is another example:
MP and SD go to a shiur together. MP brings along her shiurim loose leaf. Inside are pages and pages of neatly written notes on all previous shiurim she had attended. SD comes to the shiur and takes off her bracelet. She spends the entire shiur fiddling with it. MP wonders why SD bothers to come to the shiur, if she is not even listening or taking notes. But, while MP has a beautiful loose leaf filled with all the speeches she's been to in the last couple of years, SD has internalized the lessons. No, she can't repeat back all of the lessons she's heard. She can't even remember who said what. But when she is going through a rough time, she uses the various lessons she has internalized to pull her through.
Does MP seem more mature? Maybe to the uneducated, unthinking eye. Maybe to someone who doesn't know her very well. But, who do you really think is the more mature one?
Here is my definition of mature. A mature person is someone who has been through things in their life and has used those things to grow and develop as a person, and will use prior life experience to overcome and withstand hardships.
So this brings me back to changing as a result of having diabetes. What you have to realize is, change could be good, and it could be really bad. It depends on the nature of the change. I'll explain what I mean in my next post... Right now I am headed to the gym so I can try and outgrow my "juvenile diabetes" ;) (LOL)
Thursday, December 18, 2008
But in all seriousness, all maybe not ALL but I'll try...lol...have I changed? And how can you tell if someone had changed as a result if diabetes, or anything else that happens to them in their lives?
And of course, we have to remember the most important question, which is: is changing as a result of hardships in life really a good thing??
Think about this. I dunno if any parents are reading this, but at least try to imagine you had a little child. Now try to imagine that that little child was diagnosed with type one diabetes. Picture this: the hospital staff is giving you a crash course in becoming a full time caregiver. You are learning about things you never thought normal people do. You are injecting your own child a couple of times a day, weighing every bite of food that goes into your 6 year old's mouth, poking his finger and learning to squeeze out a drop of blood, and of course, you are learning what a pancreas is, which is the best pharmacy in the neighborhood, and how long it takes to drive to the area's best pediatric endocrinology clinic.
There is probably one thought that stands out the loudest from the mess of thoughts flying through your brain. I mean, yes, you are probably wondering how you are supposed to be sleeping when you need to do 2 am blood sugar checks. And you probably get this sinking feeling in your heart when it occurs to you that frum private schools usually don't have full time school nurses. But one thought stands out most. Trust me. (Well, you probably shouldn't. I have never been through it from this point of view B"H.) you are thinking of your child. You are thinking: "I hope my child will still me able to live a normal life. I hope my child will still be able to do anything every other child does."
If someone would say to you at that point: "your child will develop a heightened sense of maturity as a result if all the suffering he'll endure" you'd probably get very upset. It would probably be the last thing your want to here at that point.
So I ask you again: is changing as a result if diabetes, or something else life throws at you such a good thing?
The answer is of course it is!
But in a different way than you think.
To understand my theory on this, you have to understand my view of maturity. So, before I write what I think maturity means, please tell me, what do you think maturity is?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
While no, I don't know this guy personally, and in fact, I made the entire story up (as I am likely to do when I am stuck in traffic-make up very detailed stories about the other drivers). Also, I wouldn't know if it was a shiny new lexus SUV involved or an old banger of an oldsmobile.
Friday, December 12, 2008
You see, my blog really IS something different. Most of the blogs you see that are written by a girl in shiduchim are actually written by girls in shiduchim. Not mine. I just fake it. I
Am not in shiduchim, and judging by the amount of people that have redt me shiduchim this far, once MP gets engaged I won't have much to say on the topic of shiduchim either. I'm not like my sister, MP, where we can serve the same cookies to three different boys. (yes, she really does run thru them that fast!) Nor am I like her in the sense that I will be turning down so many boys. (I have a post written about that but I need to fix it a little before I post it.) And in general I am not the type to such exciting stories happen to me on dates. Unless of course, it's something horrid happening to me. I can just see myself getting a nosebleed on a date. Or maybe tripping and falling and banging up my knees and ripping my tights and getting my suit all dirty is more my type of thing. Either way, I can tell you this.
I am terrified of dating.
Yep. I really am. Most people are afraid of the unknown, but I am worse than most people. I get very tense and nervous when I am not 100% sure of what's coming. So you can imagine how I feel about dating. It's strange to begin with. I mean, I spent four years in high school learning about how bad it is to talk to boys and completely isolating myself from any contact with boys. Suddenly, it's like- here! Go out with this guy!! Have fun! Don't worry about spending a night with what will likely turn out to be someone else's husband... Just get to know each other! Isn't that a contradiction of what we've been taught? Weird, no? Add to that the Dating horror stories I hear and you have one terrified little blob. I told my mother, I need to go on just ONE date to know what it's like and be less tense....but...MP has a list of boys to ditch and this light ain't turning green all that fast...
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
First prize goes to the one who can figure out what the title stands for!!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
NIMBY, or not in my backyard, is sort of the opposite, but it actually goes hand in hand with EBM. There are people in this world who can't afford to buy shoes?? NIMBY! There are people in this world who live in an environment where they don't have the freedom to use their talents?? NIMBY! There are people in this world who cry themselves to sleep every night out of sheer loneliness?? NIMBY! There are people in this world who don't have any legs and therefore can't drive?? NIMBY! And there are people in this world who have never been on a date in their lives???? Absolutely NIMBY!!
Isn't it strange? We have ALL of these problems, yet the people who suffer so much more than us are NIMBY. Not in my backyard, not anywhere close enough to make me feel uncomfortable with my bounty of good.
Sometimes I think people would be so much happier if people would forget to complain about EBM, and at the same time realize that these things are IMBY (in my backyard). Doesn't it make things easier to internalize this?
(by the way, I am speaking to my little sister right now, because she thinks her life is the pits.)
Thursday, December 4, 2008
My favorite joke in the world:
A shaddchan corners a yeshiva bochur and says, "Boy I have a girl for you!".
"Not interested", replies the bochur.
"But she's beautiful ! ", says the shaddchan
"Yeah?" says the bochur.
"Yes. And she's very rich too."
"And she has great yichus! From a very fine family."
"Sounds great." says the bochur. "But why would a girl like that want to marry me? . . . She'd have to be crazy."
Replies the shaddchan "Well, dats only a small thing, you can't expect everything!"
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Did anyone notice the common thread between my two blog names? One is called "floating down the karpoozi river" the other is "a blob of something different". They both come from the book the Twinkie Squad, by Gordon Korman. (Yes, I do need to grow up. Why do you mention it?)
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
That is the story of me. A typical Bais Yaakov girl on the outside, a blob os something different on the inside. I never DID fit the usual mold, and I don’t see how I ever will. This blog will record my journey to finding a different sort of prince charming, the sort that doesn’t mind a blob of something different. (Hence known as a BOSD)
Please join me on my journey. It will be a roller coaster ride on some days and a boring trek on others. But one thing I will promise you is: it’ll be something different.