Of course, I do activities with my kids, but a lot of the time, I just kind of fit them in between my husband, life, job, and other stuff.
We strolled toward the playground, spring flowers fragrant in the air, blossoms carpeting the grass.
I’d brought just two of my girls along, not wanting to overwhelm the reunion with too much kiddie paraphernalia. After all, Melanie is a career woman with a PhD, and a lecturer. We’d been Partners in Torah as singles, and right now I wanted to be a fellow accomplished adult, not in Mommy mode.
Melanie had brought her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, leaving her older son behind. She wore her usual boots and jeans, I wore my usual wig and skirt. We caught up on each other’s lives while rambling along the muddy paths of a beautiful park.
Melanie’s son Joseph was going into first grade, like my oldest. She’d chosen an exclusive, non-Jewish school for him. He’d been to a Jewish kindergarten though; she was happy he’d picked up so much about the chagim and knew songs like “Mah Tovu.”
Create a free account to keep reading.
