Patience and Insecurity

I haven't been having the best week. I thought I would make some kind of effort to daven and say tehillim more, but sleep has overcame said effort. Part of me feels like "Hey, I haven't really wronged anyone this year," while the other part says "Daven hard, baby, or you'll never get to dunk and make a shidduch in 5767"

I've been pretty stressed. I'm broke. Actually, my balance in my account is -$5.62, as I'm praying there aren't any checks out there I somehow forgot about. My ex is a grand short for August. Isn't that nice? That was due 29 days ago. I still haven't received a payment for September-not a buck. That payment is due in, um....2 days. So, needless to say, I'm feeling sick about this. My once a month paycheck is coming tomorrow, but if I dont get a support check in the next two days, I can't even make my rent that is due in 3 days. I'm hoping Yom Kippur gives me some extended time or at least a half-assed excuse. My cell phone was turned off for two days since I couldn't pay my bill-Mom came through on that one, boy do I feel sufficient-and I had to max out my credit card to pay for groceries today. I haven't yet paid the kids tuition that was due 8 days ago. I guess they're trying to be nice-the heasmaster only has to walk down the hall to find me, and I'm basically working for free.

You know, I'm usually good about not kvetching. I really am. Living a Jewish life has taught me that ability. Everyone knows all of the wonderful things that Hashem has blessed me with in the past few months. But it's hard at times. When my ex, the attorney, making well over six figures is vacationing right now-and he hides his cash income and doesn't pay taxes and dispersed all assetts at the time of our separation so I can't "get" anything-well, when he and his office clerk paramour are on a beach, when he's late with his payments (and owes the children tens of thousands of dollars on arrears-and that' s just because I could prove a percentage of his actual income) well, I guess to put it lightly, I'm pissed.

I know how often I say I left it all. And trust me, I wouldn't go back. But it's demeaning not to have 100 bucks in cash when I am accustomed to a different lifestyle. I'm not asking for the jewelry or clothes, the club or the cars-I just want to feed my kids. (Ok, and myself as well)It is not easy for me to have to worry about every single dollar I spend.

Today, banking on getting paid tomorrow, I basically emptied my coin purse to buy a giant latte at Starbuck's. I even treated myself to an extra shot of espresso-being that I was planning on baking challah tonight, along with all the other pre-shabbos preparations.

I get home and find my divorce papers in the mailbox. My kids are nutty as I'm running around. I'm saving my latte for when I can sit down, after the groceries are put away and the dishes are done. My daughter is spinning like a tazmanian devil.

"Stop. Please stop. I'm going to put you in your room if you don't settle down." Empty threats, apparently.

I sit down, open my paperwork, being that I have to sign the marital agreement and send it back ASAP, and before I know it, the table next to me has been knocked over by the whirling dervish, and my venti latte has exploded all over me, my cream-coloured flokati rug, and worst of all, my divorce papers. Lovely. A good mother would have cleaned it up and said it was an accident.

Think that's what I did? Nope. I lost it. I screamed. I think I screamed for 5 minutes-I'm sure the neighbors think I'm a freak. I chased them upstairs and went into the bathroom and cried. I'm having mood swings inbetween feeling like the most incompetent mother in the world, to thinking, What the fuck? (If you're frum, erase this last sentence from your mind) Seriously, What the fuck? (Sorry Frummies-it needs saying) Can I sit down for 5 minutes with a coffee I had to pull dimes and nickels out of my purse to buy and sign my fucking divorce papers without some huge catastrophe ruining everything? Perhaps if I were calm and collected, well rested, financially secure-this would have been an accident and not a "catastrophe." To me, today, I "dropped my basket."

The guilt has set it. What am I doing to my kids? What am I teaching them? I feel horrified at my behaviour. Then I vacillate-I'm a single mom-I deserve a coffee and a few minutes to myself once every week or so. I'm so embarrassed. I want to hide when I see my neighbors. I'm not a bad mother. I'm really not. I have been doing so well-I haven't even raised my voice for weeks-but today, today they were just pushing and teasing and poking and name calling and I just wanted to lock them in their rooms and drink a double vodka. Good thing I'm too broke to properly stock my pantry.

As happy as I am that my divorce is going final (now that will be later, since I will need all new papers to sign) it is still difficult. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm feeling sorry for my children. They deserve better-they deserve the best. When I brought them into the world I didn't sign up for this. I didn't do anything to deserve this. My ex just doesn't give a shit-he knows when it comes down to it, my parents will help me. I'll go "shopping" in one of my mom's extra freezers while I transfer credit card balances to make it look like I'm making payments. I'm grateful that they don't remember how things used to be, but I can't help feeling that I shouldn't have to deny two innocent kids a couple of treats because I just can't swing it. I wish that my husband would feel ashamed of himself. For one day-I wish he would feel the shame I feel when I have to tell my kids no to ice cream and fruit rollups. The shame and sickness I feel that I splurged on a 4 dollar coffee and it was for nothing-it wasn't even enjoyed. The shame I feel when I lose it, when I yell, when I threaten, when I cry, when I know that if I just felt financially stable, 99% of these issues would be extirpated from my mind, from my life. This is something that I struggle with. Money never bought me happiness. I didn't sacrifice my safety or mental sanity for material things. But having enough money to pay the bills and not feel guilty about an occasional Starbuck's, well, I can't help but feel that my stress levels wouldn't quite be to the breaking point. Who am I going to commiserate with? The kollel rabbi at my school who has 9 kids and is poorer than me? He's actually better off than me-he gets food stamps! Someone told me today I could go to the Kosher food pantry. I can't yet stomach it. I just can't. There should be plenty of extra chickens hanging around by the weekend-I just have to butcher them and cinge the feathers off myself.

I made this choice to be closer to Hashem, and I don't regret it-but it's hard when I have to look down the road and realize how this lengthens getting my BA and Masters, which means it will be several more years before I can be completely self-sufficient, which in turn makes me feel weak and helpless. This has been a vicious cycle in my life for the past 4 years. Wait and hope that the money comes.

I guess what is most appropriate for me to daven for is patience. Patience with my children. Patience with myself. Patience with the world. Perhaps if I could attain a level of patience, I wouldn't lose it and could ensure that I do no emotional harm to anyone that I love. I need to stop having daydreams of hurricanes hitting precise points in the caribbean. I need to give up the idea that I can ever offer my children "extras" again. I need to give up on personal time. Quiet time. Sleeping time. Bathing time. Those things aren't happening at the moment. I just pray that some peace enters me soon before I pass on the worst trait I hold-that of a temper that is rarely lost, but when it is, makes my children tremble in fear to be in the same room with me. They need love and support from me-I am the one safe place in their life and I'm potentially cutting the strings of their net by my lack of self control. I keep thinking "If only I were rested" but I have to come up with a better way,for my current situation won't be changing anytime soon...

Image in a Food Centered Society

I would gauge myself as a fairly good cook and baker, and overall gourmet foodie, so I'm pleased to say how impressed I was with the cooking over the holiday. The recipes were great-along with the desserts. Mmmmm. I wish someone would start up a Carboholics Anonymous meeting in my neighborhood. Chocolate chocolate chip cookies. Apple and apricot tarts. Yum. Food makes me happy. I unfortunately was raised in a family (pretty much all slender people) who like food. Mayonnaise is a good thing. So is butter. And Cheese. My mother will spend 200 bucks to prepare a cheese tray at Christmas. I grew up on Saint Andre. I should probably be thankful that it's not kosher.

I started to think over dinner today, how could anyone Jewish be a size 4? (Or Italian, or Greek for that matter) First of all, I've never been a size four. Skinny for me is an 8. And I mean skinny. My ribs show in my back if I'm an 8. I never felt the need to get smaller than that-to weigh 115 pounds. I like being a little curvier (ok, not as curvy as I am right now) but for the most part I like my hips and breasts and honestly don't want to do what I would have to do to be that waif-like. I can't remember a time when my chest was smaller than a D cup. I think I must have been 12.

I have no problem cutting down on things. I'm working on that as we speak, but two hours at the gym everyday and avoiding everything I love is too much to ask. Many women gladly do this. I think a lot of women use their figures as a way of comparing themselves to everyone else. I remember a girl in high school, that was all of 100 pounds, who used to complain in the locker room that her thighs were fat, just so everyone would tell her she was skinny. Grown-ups do this as well. There is something very fulfilling for certain women to get very thin, and then be told by everyone how it would be impossible for one to get that way. It almost gives the skinny girl a sense of pride, and often the feeling of control.

I'm just trying to save eating my favourite carb and fat-laden foods for Shabbos. One day a week hinders complete progress, but at least I won't be a miserable bitch. I feel sorry for anyone in the future who has to be graced with my presence of a fast day. I would hope they would put everyone out of their misery, myself included, and inject me with dopamine.

I started thinking about typical American society. Women are so anorexic right now. Just look at the magazines in the market checkout aisle. When I can see a collar bone protruding on top of a shoulder blade, it gets icky. I saw a woman today in leggings whom your bubbe would have tied to a chair and force-fed schmultz. No lie. I feel like calling it CCC-Concentration Camp Chic.

When did this happen? When did this become the ideal? Men used to fantisize about Jean Harlow and Marilyn Monroe, Go ga-ga for Sophia Loren. Those actresses couldn't find a job today. Kate Winslet is "chubby" in a size 10. Jennifer Lopez, Salma Hayek, and Catharine Zeta-Jones, are "voluptuous," all wearing a size 6. Apparently Jessica Alba likes being a roll model for "curvy" women. Ok. Here's my schtick. When someone that wears a size 2 is considered curvy, the woman who is 5'8" who wears a 10 and weighs 140 pounds, toned as she may be, is apparently a moose in comparison. A size 12 is "plus sized." Can I tell you how many men stare at me on the street when I wear a size 12? I don't think that they thought I was plus sized. I don't think that most men could tell the difference between an 8 and a 12. The Ford Agency considered me to be plus sized, but that's because they wanted to make money off of my pics. When I think of plus sized, I think of Star Jones before the gastric bypass. Rosie O'Donnell is plus sized. Drew Barrymore is not.

I'm not sure if I'm onto something big here, but it seems that anorexia became the ideal about the same time feminism reared it's ugly head. Right at the time women were supposedly meant to be empowered, we became slaves to diets and the gym. It almost seems that there was a need to look physically adrogynous. Feminity and sex appeal were not anything an intelligent woman would have relied upon. She had brains. She had a PhD. And, in my humble opinion, she cut off her nose to spite her face and banished all of the beautiful charms that G-d graced her with, purposely trying to make herself masculine. I think of that movie "Spanglish" with Adam Sandler. The wife with whom he had lost a connection was hard, muscular, and he fell in love with the maid, who was soft and inviting. Perhaps this is a sign of changes to come?

The only difference I tend to see is in religous, family based cultures. It's never ok for anyone-male or female-to just let themselves go, but I really haven't met any Orthodox men lately who are leaving their wives because they don't have flat abs after 7 kids. Same thing with many Latin American men I know. They want their wife to look good, but they don't pressure them, and they're not ashamed of them if she hits 40 and could lose 20 pounds. My husband was horrible to me about my figure. He would use it as a reason not to touch me, and then come home too late for me to go to the gym, holding boxes of ring dings. What a freakin' help when I was home all day with the kids-Who could pass by treif Hostess treats 100 times and not eat one? Not I. Even after I had lost most of the weight (which is a good 30 pounds less than I am today) my figure was far from where it was at 19. Pregnancy took it's toll, and I often think about plastic surgery. I worry, that when I marry again and I'm undressed for the first time in front of my chosson, that he will be disappointed. That he will think I look better clothed. Then I look around shul, and there are a few skinny women, and more than a few chubby women, about 3 enormous ones, but for the most part, everyone is about average. I guess average means they could probably lose 10 pounds. But they're happy, and if one can be pregnant 5 times and only have 10 pounds to loose, I think she's doing a pretty good job.

I just can't put my finger on what it is that makes this more acceptable. Is it that the hips and breasts of a woman are an inate way of man judging her ability to be fertile? Do these curves make her more motherly? More accessible? Is it a sense of pride for the husband when her pregnant belly starts to show, since we're in a culture where rarely does 3 years go by without a new baby? I do realize this may seem that I've returned to the Age of Innocence, but weren't people actually happier when they had less expectations? When a husband didn't depend on the perfect physicality of his wife as a means of gaining self-esteem?Has anyone else noticed this or am I just super-intuitive to the fact that there is less pressure on either spouse to look physically perfect within O? I'm not saying it's not out there, but expectations are certainly not what I see in the secular, frenzied world that adores Hollywood. I feel pretty lucky to have this be a secondary benefit. I like brownies. And apple kugel. I just hope I'm as lucky as some of the other women I know, to have a chosson who accepts me curves and all, who enjoys my softness, views my pregnancies as feminine, and won't give me a censoring glance when I nibble on the last latke...

Fresh Start

I am writing in a state of utter exhaustion. I had to go out of town for a divorce hearing today. Four years of agonizing court appearances and the frustration of non-payment of child support have finally paid off. I compromised. A lot. I am as good as divorced-signing the final papers by this Friday. I am elated, I am relieved, I'm even a little confused. I expected a reasonable settlement and I received everything I asked for for the benefit of my children.

I have given everything over to Hashem. He has worked utter miracles for me in the past month. I realize that there will be a time when pain or heartache enters my life again, but for now, I am floating on air. I am a good person. I have never intentionally hurt another soul. I used to wonder if I could ever get ahead. It seemed that liars and cheaters always came out on top. I now have such faith that good people can win. I have more hope now for my future than at any other time I can remember. Today truly is the first day of the rest of my life...

Unintentional Voyeurism?

Today in shul, my Rav spoke about questions he gets that he has no answers for. One of his subjects was about blogging. According to halacha, it is wrong to read another’s personal mail. A congregant asked him if it is wrong to read a blog that is purposely made anonymous by the writer once the reader has figured out who the writer is? A blog is an open space, but would the author share such personal ideas and feelings if his or her identity was pubic knowledge? And although the writer may not specifically ashamed of the content of the blog, would the writer necessarily share such things with a stranger in a supermarket? My Rav honestly answered “I don’t know.”

I’m almost positive that his pertains to me personally. Am I ashamed of anything I have written? Heavens no. Are there things that I wouldn’t necessarily share with the lady who takes my latte orders? You bet. I guess in an anonymous forum it is easier to get personal. Many of the things I write about I also talk about with others in my life. I also feel the need to point out that this is where I go to vent or to ask questions about social interraction within Orthodoxy. This is not where I go to for questions on halacha. I may see new things and ponder new ideas, but if I have a question that involves my Judasim, there is only one man who answers those questions, and one man whose answers I hold to.

I live in a pretty small community. I have left enough personal information around that anyone could figure out who I am. This is ok with me. Readers may not agree with anything I write about-and I’m also fine with that. I’m issuing a heter. Can I do that since I haven't earned s'micha? LOL Not really, but for all intensive purposes, consider it issued. You know who I am. Continue reading. Do you have questions? I have an email link. I’m very open-I would be happy to talk.

I think I have stayed anonymous out of safety concerns. Some do because they’re dating and don’t want other people on the market to know who they are. Others write about how they pretend to be Orthodox when they have fallen away. Ok-that’s serious-I can see why they’re anonymous, for they may be shunned. I’m not in either of those situations. If you had my name and picture, would it make my posting more valid? Would that assure my Rav that I have nothing to hide? I plan on telling him that I blog motzei shabbos-and asking his advice. I don’t want him thinking I’m doing something wrong. But, is posting more details about myself dangerous to me? There are nutty people-I’ve come into contact with a few. What of the man who I turned down who wanted to inappropriately meet me? He could be vindictive and lie about me when I had done nothing wrong.

This topic was spoken about during lunch today. I admitted that I blogged. My host, whom I respect very much, was very upset by the whole idea of blogging. She feels it’s inappropriate and dangerous. I can see why she would feel that way. Anyone could lie. It could all be fantasy.

The woman sitting next to me admitted that she blogged, but hers is not anonymous. Another woman said “What are people to do? It gets lonely in this community. How else are young people going to connect?” I think she hit it right on. That’s what this is about for me. I’m really not here to date. It’s hard to meet other young Jews who may have had similar experiences to me. Being that blogging is predominantly anonymous is precisely why most people share such intimate thoughts. I realize that to people in an older generation, this will never make sense. But for my fellow bloggers, who share their hearts and souls and dreams, and I can read and say “I’ve had that experience-let me help you or encourage you,” well, how would we do so otherwise? We have a need to share. To connect. To know we’re not the only one who might possibly think a certain way.

I brought up sites like Frumster. How else are singles from a small community going to meet others who are interested in marriage? Especially a BT or Ger, whose families or friends may not have the kind of connections to help with a shidduch. Assuming everyone is honest, what better way to get to know about someone? My host was also unhappy with the idea of internet dating. Even on a specifically Jewish site.I’m not saying one shouldn’t check references, but what’s so wrong with it? Is this just a generational gap, where nothing I could say could make her understand? I brought up a situation of a young kallah that just moved home, pregnant, because her spouse of less than a year is abusive. That match was set up by a shadchan. The family is very involved and well respected-it’s not as if they didn’t check references. If bad things can happen to her, they can happen to any of us.

After I speak with my Rav, I will need to make a decision. Do I continue blogging as is, hoping that my gentle reader won’t feel he/she is prying into my personal space? Or do I make myself known? Am Ito publish photos and say my full name and give you the name of my rav and my shul, just to show that I’m not ashamed of my thoughts or feelings? Will keeping anonymous make me appear to be dishonest or as if I’m hiding what I’m doing? If I published my information, would I be able to be as candid as I have been thus far? I hope to have answers soon….

Confession Time

Ok, I've got some splainin' to do. For the space of about a week, I harbored a flirtation with a 24 year old.

He pursued me. I had serious doubts, but he acted very interested-saying he wasn't looking for a woman who wasn't mature and ready for shidduch. I told him I couldn't date right now, and he said if he met the right person he would be fine waiting. I pondered it. For about a day.

It was nice to have the attention, but I started wondering how things could ever work. That's the danger of becoming Orthodox. I no longer just think "I could have fun." Now, 3 days into it, I'm thinking about long term. I'm thinking marriage. I can't believe how much I have changed.

My doubts grew. He called right before Shabbos and we talked briefly. He seemed pissy that I was busy. Hello? I have two kids at home with no help, and I'm cooking 2 meals, setting lights, finishing baths, getting ready to light candles, etc. I mean, if it were a real relationship, I would appreciate a "I was thinking about you-Good Shabbos, can't wait to talk with you after" right before. But this wasn't that kind of thing.

I called him back matzei Shabbos, and I had an asthma attack while walking to meet my friend. This isn't typical for me-but it's allergy related. He started making fun of me for choking. I said I'd call him back in a few after I felt better, which I did and he didn't answer. He called last night. I told him I was a little put off-that he didn't even check to see what happened or if I was ok. He made up some dumbass excuses, I felt frustrated and fell silent, and then he put it all on me and asked me "Do you think we're just not compatible?" in this completley arrogant tone.

That was it. What was I doing? Trying to explain my needs to a boy? I guess I got caught up in thinking Orthodox boys were more marriage minded-that's what he wanted me to believe. I felt to above him to yell "grow up" and hang up the phone, so I wished him good luck and said goodbye.

I'm in such a different place than most people in their twenties. I know it freaks everyone out that I regularly dated 40+ year olds, but that's where I am. I need one who is settled and secure and who knows what they want out of life. And,yes, I do expect someone to call if he thinks I may be ill. I've never been made to feel high-maitenance for such a simple thing. I'm sticking to my guns on that one. If someone can't call in that situation, making a relationship work would be just about impossible. The frustration I felt when I hung up the phone was enough to put me off the idea of another flirtation for quite some time. I'm actually glad that I'm too busy to nurture anything of importance right now. It took this for me to realize it, but it was a lesson needed and well learned...

Shabbat Invitations and Bad Behaviour

Shavua Tov! I hope everyone had a good Shabbos. My kids were horrible yesterday. There were other kids their ages who didn't want to share, so mine were crying, and then they started fighting with each other. My son had a temper tantrum and bit his sister. This really freaked me out-he bit her three years ago, and it hasn't happened since. I took him outside, and all seven kids from next door to where I was having lunch came out to watch. Then the mother came out-her son is in my class. I wanted to die. Here I am, a teacher in a day school, and my own kids are losing it. What I find odd is that I have no issue getting other kids to do what I wish. I can discipline them in a quiet manner and they listen. My kids are another issue. I always end up raising my voice. And I dislike that immensely. I feel horrible if I yell. I NEVER yelled when I was married. But I shouldn't have to ask or tell 5 times. They should do something when I ask it. I also find that I deal with things better when I'm not exhausted, so I'm letting a few things (like unpacking and ironing) slide for now until we're rested and on a schedule. I'm trying to be sensitive, for we have had a lot of changes lately. I don't think they are bad changes, but everything is new to them.

I've been getting alot of invites lately. I always say thank you, and then I ask, "Are you aware that I have young children?" This raises a few eyebrows. What's so horrible about young children? What nice Jewish family would be offended by a family?

There are one or two houses my kids consitently do well at. Other than that, and I know this sounds horrible, but I prefer to go alone. If it's a new family/couple, I really enjoy getting to know them without having to deal with the kids. Does that make me sound like a wretched mother? I don't have a husband to pass them off on if I'm in the middle of an important conversation. My kids are young-I can't expect for them to sit at a table for a few hours. I'm lucky if I can get them through Kiddush and 5 bites of chicken. That's another thing. My son is a picky eater. I always tell the host beforehand not to be offended. His diet consists of carbs, dairy, and PLAIN meat. Steak, chicken, whatever-but he just won't eat something like cholent. I have to scrape herbs off of his chicken so he'll taste it. I know that it sounds like I have a brat, but he's just always been that way. So, the various salads and dishes that I think are wonderful, he won't eat.

I have been speaking to other mothers lately. Basically, it seems that they also have a few houses they eat at-with close friends who aren't judgemental, and where they can put little ones down for naps if needed. Other than that, the families stay in. We can't control if it's a good day or crabby day, and it feels like when it's most important for me to have them behave, that is the day their behaviour makes me want to cry.

Has anyone out there had similar experiences? Picky eaters? Sharing issues at a strangers house? Shabbat is still new for us-every big dinner before this has been with my family. My mom thinks that it's just too long of a day for them. They are 4 and 6. We walk 6 (long city) blocks to Shul, and then walked about 7 more to lunch, and then 8 or so home. If I don't go out, I will feel completely isolated. I know that a lot of women don't go when their kids are young-either out of difficulty or eruv restrictions. Perhaps were I raised Jewish I could manage this-but this is new for me and I don't feel connected if I miss shul. I'm thinking that unless it's one of our regular families, that I should just not accept invitations on weekends where I have the children. Is this viable?

In the end, I'm sure that the Chabad family I ate with has already forgotten the temper tantrum. They're just happy that I plugged in the air conditioner...

The Joys of Motherhood

If I have to clean up one more spot of vomit, or bathe one more kid (or dog) covered in diarrhea, I'm going to lose my mind. My house smells disgusting and I can't get the scent out. I don't know what's worse-the aroma of poo/puke, or that of Resolve. I've slept about 7 hours in the past two nights, and of course, I'm missing work. I'm sure the kids picked this up at school-when some selfish person sent their kid when they shouldn't have. I haven't caught it as of yet, but on the bright side, it will be the beginning of my weight loss. I couldn't possibly keep food down after everything I've seen come up.

I've come to a simple conclusion that if I could make up my own ketubah, it would state that I

1. Get regular sex

2. At some point in the marriage get double sinks and ovens

3. He cleans up any bodily excrement

For that, I would give my heart and soul. It's amazing how clear things become at desperate times. He can have me as soon as he sends the moving truck.

I Needed to Share

The creepy days have passed. I feel secure blogging once again, and I missed writing and sharing so very much, but most of all I missed your feedback. This is my safe place. That's why I felt so violated when I was propositioned. I had to get over it, because I missed having people I could trust and be honest with and ask questions of who aren't somehow personally attached to my situation. I missed sharing the simchas. I missed the support system. It doesn't really seem logical, that I can have a support system from anonymous bloggers, but somehow, it has kept me going. Knowing that people are pulling for me gives me so much more courage.

B"H I got a job! It's the one teaching, and I'm so excited and everyone is incredibly helpful and wonderful. I almost feel guilty, because I will get much more than I can possibly give. It feels wonderful to be immersed into the community. I have been walking my kids to school each morning-it just feels very comfortable. Part of what I will do is very crafty and artistic, and I think I needed that right now.

I need to learn how to stop apologizing for taking it easy. This is harder for me to do than I had expected. In the spring semester, I took 18 credits, and maintained a 4.0. The summer was spent preparing to move, which was emotionally draining. My formal Judaic/Hebrew study is commencing. I don't feel I can handle anything else high stress right now. Living on my own is a little harder than I want to admit. I can't run out for 10 minutes here or there. It's just that I feel the need to explain to everyone what I'm not doing instead of focusing on what I am accomplishing.

"I'm not earning a lot of money." " I'm not taking classes this semester." " I'm not starting the masters program until next year." Why do I still feel the need to prove myself? I know that I'm smart. I know that I can cut it. A few years ago I was very afraid, but after what I have accomplished academically, I shouldn't be appologizing. Especially in this community. Of course there are a fair share of female physicians and financial planners, but there are plenty of women who work part time, certainly not at jobs that are intellectually challenging. I need to work on this. I need to stop trying to prove my ability and just focus on what I can handle at the moment. I want to focus on the joy of making paper Lulavim for my class.

I had a guest this Shabbat. Ahuva came to visit me! It was lovely to have her company, and she turned me on to many things-books, websites, etc. She also made me a little nervous about things I haven't learned yet. Of course, that wasn't her intention, but I've been concentrating so much lately on the move/kids school/finding a job, that all of my studying about Judaic life was completely centered on the laws of kashrut and keeping Shabbat to the best of my ability or knowledge. I forgot to unscrew the lightbulbs in the fridge-and I still opened and closed it repeatedly. (I couldn't get them to unscrew) I make mistakes, but for now, I feel that keeping Shabbat is not driving and not using electricity, and not doing anything that seems unnecessary or "work-like." I'm hoping that I start learning more soon, because there are things I've never heard of, like special makeup for shabbat, and not using bar soap because it's "taking away." I'm afraid of things like this. I'm sure someday it will be second nature, but I do need to be told. I felt kind of ignorant not knowing. Time like this, I wish that I had machetunim.

My kids are away this weekend. I haven't spoken to them-they were sleeping last night when I called, and my ex said they were running fevers and had horrible coughs. I'm very concerned. He's not answering and I'm unable to leave a message. I hate this part of visitation. I want them to visit their dad-and they want to visit their dad. Truthfully, I need them to visit their dad-because I need more than a one hour break once per month-I'm exhausted, and I'm not a good mother when I'm exhausted. BUT, I hate when I don't talk to them everyday-even when it's for 5 minutes. I have never once not gotten back to him when I missed his call. Never, in four years have I let my kids go to bed without calling him if they wanted to, or not returned his call. It's frustating. Part of me wants to say, "If you can't pick up your freaking phone, don't bother coming next week." But I know what would happen. He wouldn't come. And then I'd be overwhelmed. I don't like needing him in any way, especially for a break. It's worse than depending on child support to pay the bills. That's why putting college on hold was so hard for me, for it means another year where I'm dependent on an undependable person.

I spent today in the animal ER with my dog. B'H that Ahuva was there-I would have lost without her. Over several days, Sophie got into some various food items, including egg salad and chicken bones from the trash, and she was very ill in every way imaginable. We took her in this morning-and she needed x-rays and bloodwork. I'm glad that she's ok, and just needs some pepcid to settle her stomach and a special diet for a few days, but it was hard shelling out over 300 dollars to get her acid reflux medication. I adore her and couldn't live without her now. She's what keeps me from getting lonely. She's who I hold when I feel like crying. She always loves me no matter what. I'm horrible to complain about money, but it's not like I have a lot of extra laying around.

Because of the length of the ER visit, I missed my best friends L'Chaim. I'm pretty depressed about that. It would have been my first one, and since she converted, she wouldn't have had a lot of family there to stand by her. I let her know beforehand that I probably wouldn't make it, but I'm very sorry that I missed that experience. It would have been very nice to see what it's all about.

There is an open invitation to a wedding (renewal of vows) next Sunday, and I want to go. I've never been to an Orthodox wedding. I'm not expecting a reception with dancing for this couple, but I would love to see that as well. I think a lot of people take that for granted. "Oy, Another wedding!" For me, it's a special learning experience.

I'm having difficulty with jealousy. Ok, it's not real jealousy, but it's hard to see everyone else moving on. My friends deserve to be happy, and I want them to be happy. It's just that sometimes my throat closes up because I so want to experience that as well. Even though I put out that front of "it's ok if I never marry again" it's not really ok, because I really do want to get married again. I really want to do things the right way, and have more children if Hashem chooses to bless me.

I think what's hard right now is that I really shouldn't be looking. I'm not actually allowed to date, and I miss that excitement and feeling that another is interested in me. I miss going out and enjoying male company, and laughing over dinner and feeling hopeful once again. I don't miss the bad dates. I don't miss the guys who are rude to waitresses, or show up late, or don't show up at all. I do miss phone calls at bedtime and text messages and buying a new dress for dinner. I miss feeling pretty.

I've gained a little more weight from quitting smoking (and several stressful life changes) than I really wanted to admit to myself, let alone other people. My aunt pointed it out to me. She didn't say it to be rude or hurtful, but out of love and wanting the best for me. Even Frum guys want pretty and thin. I have never been a beanpole, but I need to work on this. Again. I think by dressing more tznius, I stopped caring. My arms weren't showing-let alone my back. I'm not supposed to wear tight shirts. When everything is a little loose, it's not so easy to tell when one has put on 5 or 10 pounds. If I had been wearing jeans, I would have noticed immediately. I think she mentioned it because I shouldn't have to settle because I need to take off 30 pounds. And if I don't take it off, I will have to settle. When it was 10 pounds I could say I was curvy. Now I'm just chubby. There. I said it. It sucks. It sucks to admit that it's not 20 pounds, let alone 10. I wasn't trying to lie to people. I had been lying to myself as well.

It sucks because it hurts, and because I'm scared. It sucks because I don't want to be a trophy for another man, and to worry that he's going to cheat on me because I gained weight when I was pregnant. I so want to feel loved for who I am as a woman and not my physical appearance, and I'm coming to the realization that the thought of a man adoring my for my soul alone is a pipe dream. I have made a cocoon of fat for myself two sizes bigger than I should be. This cocoon is my safety net. If no one notices me, I guess I can't get hurt. If no one notices me, I won't feel so bad that I'm not allowed to date. If no one notices me, I can't be rejected.

If no one notices me, I won't get asked out. If no one asks me out, I can't go on a date, let alone get excited, fall in love, and have L'Chaims of my own. I may be a divorcee with the supposed "baggage" of children, but most of the men I would want to date would most likely have plenty of baggage as well. I'm capable of doing well.

I'm kind of amazed that this is all spilling out. I didn't realize this was happening. It's true-one can change the scenery, but the issues deep inside always follow. My fear of being a trophy and then disappointing someone I love is becoming unhealthy for me on an emotional level, because it's hurting my self esteem. I don't feel as good as I used to. I don't feel as pretty, let alone sexy. And this all gets wrapped up and warped with a tznius way of dress, because I'm not really supposed to be sexy. I thought Orthodox girls didn't try to be alluring, but I'm noticing something as of late. The elbows and knees are covered, but the clothes are basically skintight. I'm seeing there's a way around being tznius, which means that women are using their bodies and the men are noticing, so I'm going to have to start working extra hard in order to hold my own in the dating sphere. I've been single for four years. This shouldn't feel so daunting to me, because I dated a lot before I started my journey to O. I dated incredibly brilliant and successful men. And they loved me because I was confident. What is confident? The last thing I feel right now is confident.

It is daunting, because this is new. Sometimes I feel I can be myself, but then I'm afraid that my personality is just too vibrant, or my sense of humour just a little too sexual. I have been censoring myself trying to be more modest. Maybe I don't have to. I don't see myself in the Yeshivish world. Maybe I don't have to cover every inch of skin and every strand of hair. Maybe I can still tease. Or flirt a tiny bit. Will that end up biting me in the ass? Once again, the central fear is of being seen as immodest. But, what is immodest? Modesty may have different definitions to you, or to your brother or best friend. If I lean towards the left, will I limit my chances?

I just can't help feeling that I will have to censor some part of myself. Either my blatant sensuality, or my teasing sense of humour with sexual undercurrents. I will have to hide my hair or pretend that I don't have such an, um, well-endowed figure. It's not impossible for me to do these things. I do believe there are more satisfying paths of life that don't have much to do with vanity or sexuality. But by pretending I don't have these facets, I have lost a part of myself that made me feel feminine, thus letting myself "go."

I need to figure out the boundaries. I don't want to be frumpy and dumpy. I don't want to be chubby and in turtlenecks forever, wearing blouses a size larger so that no one notices what's underneath. Is it possible for me to be tznius-of both look and mindset-and not hide what I have offer...?