Until Then

One girl followed the next with my husband mentally recording the dates of their would-have-been brissim for posterity. Our apartment was crowded with strollers and dollies and frilly dress-up complete with high heels. The couch was lined with baby dolls, and my girls chanted circle-time songs and doled out mitzvah notes. They colored with markers and made projects with beads and stickers. They sang songs and jumped rope. And they whined.

And then came the boys. In the beginning, little boys aren’t all that different from little girls, excluding their innate obsession with balls and anything with wheels. Baruch Hashem, boy followed boy and all of a sudden, we transformed from a girl family to a house of big girls and many little boys. The dolls got ratty and lost limbs, the markers dried out, and the jump ropes became weapons. Now our home was filled with riding toys, trucks, and balls of all shapes and sizes.

Much to my chagrin, I discovered that boys also whine! Who knew? In addition to whining, they also climb on tables, inflict physical harm on one another, invite constant danger, and endure multiple injuries. One of my sons got stitches so many times on the same spot on his chin that we lost count (was it five? Six?), and the last time my husband just closed it up with some good ol’ crazy glue.

When my oldest son became bar mitzvah, it was quite a thrill. Besides seeing him in that cute little hat and suit, and hearing him recite his leining like a pro, all of a sudden there were two “men” at our Shabbos table. This meant that all we needed was one male guest and we had a full-fledged mezuman.