This morning when I got dressed, instead of my usual jeans and comfy Winter shirt, I put on stockings and a mini-skirt, a nice sweater and jewelry in honor of my friend's son's Bar Mitzvah. It felt nice to walk into Gan to drop off Raphaela, looking like I had dressed up for an occasion, and having her nursery teacher notice that I don't dress down all the time.
I know this Bar Mitzvah boy since he started out in the womb, he and his family made aliyah around the same time as I did. He performed well, and afterwards I caught up with some people I had not seen in a long time; I can't remember the last time I walked into a shul by myself and could relax without worrying about Raphaela's attention span. Everyone came up to me and said, "Where's your baby?!" As if I am not complete without my daughter.
Of course the Universe works its magic, and I ended up sitting next to a single mother by choice, who had her seven month old son with her at the event. Without knowing that I shared her story, she told how she is tired all the time, but that it is all worthwhile every time he smiles. She lamented that sometimes it is hard when she or her son are not feeling well, and she does not have help in the house. I gave her my phone number, and told her that we JSMBC have to support each other, and that she is not alone.
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