My Last Chumash Party

My Last Chumash Party

My youngest child, Yoni, is having his Chumash party on Friday. That means that Friday morning the boys will walk to the synagogue next to the school, and an important rabbi will arrive and all the boys and parents will stand up and the rabbi will bless our sons and then hand each one his first Chumash, while the parent who won (or lost?) the coin-toss snaps a photo, and then the rabbi will leave and the boys will sing songs about loving the Torah, and then, as we all head out towards home, the parents will make small talk (“You’re Yoni’s Eema? I’ve heard so much about Yoni from Meir Yisrael!”) and each boy will receive the sweet roll and tropit juice pouch their teachers have been talking about for weeks.

And the ugly truth is this (and you might have already guessed this when I mentioned that lost coin toss)… I DO NOT want to go to the chumash party.
First of all, I hate having to get places early in the morning. And on a Friday I hate going anywhere at all, at any time!
And I am tired! It’s been a long winter. Unlike many, I b”H haven’t gotten really sick, but I’ve also not been fully well. I have been, again, tired.
And I’m also tired in the sense that I’m a 50 year old mother of a 7-year-old son! Our Yoni is the classic baby of the family, the stereotypical ben zekunim, he’s cherished, coddled, a star. He says “2+4=6” and the entire family coos with delight and awe. And I’m completely, irrevocably love-struck!
But certain aspects of being the mother of a 1st grader for this 8th time around, just make me feel, well, TIRED. For example, when I have to attend Chumash parties!
So I was toying with the idea of not going. Of sending my husband. And my oldest daughter, Hadas, who is excited about the idea of surprising her adorable youngest brother.
So today, Hadas called me, to ask when we are all planning to the leave home for the Chumash party. And then I dropped the bombshell:
“Well, I’m actually not planning to go.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Well, I’m tired.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I feel well, and then I don’t feel well, I’m exhausted.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I’m 50 years old! And I still have a 1st grader! I’m just tired!”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it’s on a Friday!”
“Uh-huh.”
“And it’s so early!”
That got a laugh. “Eema, 9 AM is not actually SO early.”
And I laughed too.
“And Eema, this is your youngest child, your last Chumash party!”
And then I felt tears, unexpectedly, welling up in my eyes, “Yes, it’s my last Chumash party. And I don’t want to go.”

4 comments

  1. so relatable and honest. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this vulnerable honesty. I am sure you will get a whole bunch of posts telling you to positive think this bla bla but from one tired mama to another I get you. Sending you waves of compassion

  2. What about the feelings of your yummy little boy? When everyone elses Imas and Abbas will be there and not his?

  3. What was the verdict in the end? Lol

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