Ask Chaviva Anything: Of Chanukah, Immigration, and Genetics

I realized I have a TON of "Ask Chaviva Anything" questions that went unanswered over the past few years, so I thought, now is a great time to hit some of them. Hopefully the people who asked are still reading. If not? My apologies!

Do u & ur family ever go totally crazy for Chanukah and put up lots of blue and white lites and inflatable lighted decorations and stuff like that? Holiday lites in winter time remind me of a magical winter wonder land!

Nope! We do the basics: A few Chanukiyot and maybe a little sign. In fact, this year, while we were at Target, Asher picked up a little Chanukah sign so I bought it. I'll probably hang it on the front door. But beyond that? No decorations. Most Jews don't actually go nuts for the decorations. I do, however, Love holiday lights. 

When I was a kid, our one Christmas tradition was driving around and looking at all the holiday lights. I think it's still relevant, and okay, to do this now with my kids. We call them "thank you" lights (Thanks Daniel Tiger!) and teach the kids that it's how our neighbors show their thankfulness and friendliness. So, this year, for the first time, my plan is to go out one night with Asher to a neighbored where there are lots of lights, and give him a piece of my childhood as I never have before. 

Do you ever find yourself upset still at how hard it was for your husband to immigrate to the USA?

Yes, 100 percent yes. I think about it a lot. When we have little argument for I'm stressed or I'm wondering what I'm doing here in this part of my life, I think about it. It still makes me cry, actually. We have very different memories about how everything happened, which is also hard. But I became a much stronger person as a result of it, and it definitely has helped inform how I vote based on immigration issues, too. 

Is there a DNA test for Jewish ancestry? If so which is best? I am a carrier of Tay-Sachs and have a sister who died from the disease. I have been asked by doctors if I am Ashkenazi Jewish, but I don't know for sure. (There is an abnormally high rate of Tay-Sachs among the Cajuns in south-central Louisiana.)

We did 23andMe.com and were very happy with the results. In fact, Mr. T found out that he's 99.9 percent Ashkenazi Jew (we knew this, but having the proof is pretty epic) and I discovered what I already knew: I'm French, German, English, and Scottish with zero Ashkenazi Jewry in my DNA. If you click this link and buy, you'll get 10% off your purchase of a kit, too!

Want to ask me something? Click here: Ask away!

Team GB Reunited: Family is Absolutely Everything

Shabbat Shalom!

And yes, he was making a funny face on purpose :)

Updates: There Are None!

For the first time since Mr. T hopped the pond, I actually managed to complete my agreed-upon gamut of About.com articles for the month. I should celebrate! Crack open some ice cream or something, right? Alas.

I have been writing a lot about food as of late. And there's the problem.

It only makes sense that the only real update I have for you — as the consulate lied greatly when they told me that they would print Mr. T's visa as soon as they were back online (that was Friday, and, oh wait, it's Tuesday, and still no visa) — is that I've rejoined Weight Watchers and managed two days straight at the gym.

Go me! Go me! It's the Year of Chavi, don't you know?

I've managed to gain all the weight that Mr. T has lost while away, which has put me back at a truly unfortunate and uncomfortable weight, self image, and blah, blah, blah. I simply long to not have my toddler poking and prodding at my tummy and thighs ... although Mr. T has informed me that it's less that I'm fat and squishy than it is that Ash is seeing a part of mommy he doesn't normally see. It's cute curiosity, not an attempt to make me self conscious.

And, of course, I know. He's a toddler. He's not Cosmo checking for my beach-ready body.

But who wouldn't love more energy? A better self image? A more active life to keep up with a toddler giddy to run anywhere for anything at any time?

Either way, I had success on Weight Watchers back in 2008 when I was able to eat a very non-kosher diet that consisted of Trader Joe's chicken fingers and potato wedges and Subway sandwiches. Since then, every attempt I've made with Weight Watchers has consisted of me trying to completely overhaul my entire diet to fit the plan. This time, I'm sticking to my current diet and focusing on portions and self control. Will power!

One day in and I find myself obsessively thinking about food and how hungry I am. Maybe even when I'm not.

Anyhow, speaking of ice cream ... the best part of my day? A frozen banana blended with some chocolate chips shared with my little monkey. Make your own with The Kitchn's One-Ingredient Ice Cream! It's better than real ice cream. I promise.

Let's do this.

A Chaviva Infographic, Because Blogging is Hard

I'm so busy these days with the new job that I can't seem to find the time to sit down and plant my thoughts in any one place. I keep telling myself I'm going to make a video blog or I'm going to start blogging over on Medium.com, but it never happens.

The moment I pick Ash up from daycare at 4 p.m. every day my mind and body basically hit hyperdrive to make dinner and keep him entertained and happy and do household chores until he's in bed around 7/7:30 at which point one of two things happens: I ramp up, put my head down, and get back to work until about 11 p.m. or I completely crash and end up mindlessly watching bad TV until 9:30 and then go to bed.

You can see the dilemma here. I never get to the "me" part of the day where I unwind and unfurl on the blog. I miss that feeling of having a me space. But maybe it'll change once Mr. T is back. Maybe.

Anyway, here's an infographic of what's on my mind/how I'm feeling these days. The only thing that didn't make the infographic is that my father is having a new host of medical problems. Being alone with a 17 month old has made traveling to Nebraska difficult, if not impossible, but I have to head back within the next few weeks for my own sanity. Stay tuned.

An Unfortunate Fall and Passover Through the Years

We're in the midst of Passover and I'd like to wish you all a moadim l'simcha! It's been an interesting week, but really, seriously, when isn't it interesting?

In a nutshell, I was walking to a Passover seder on Friday night and while simply walking down the sidewalk pushing the buggy something happened and I broke my foot (fifth metatarsal fracture/Jones fracture). Yay!

There was a dramatic moment where Asher's stroller started rolling into oncoming traffic, which is why I don't remember what happened during the fall, but let's just say I didn't think I'd broken anything. I thought, maybe I sprained my ankle or pulled something. I spent the first two days of Passover hobbling around in the homes of two amazing friends, with them carrying Ash up and down stairs yelling at me to stop getting up. I can't help it. I'm not a sit-down-and-rest kind of person. I'm super freaking woman!

So for now, after two visits to two different ERs, I'm in a boot. An irritating boot that I'm sleeping in (doctor's advice). I have an orthopedic appointment on Monday, and that's when I'll find out whether I'm sticking to the boot (please G-d) or going the cast route (please G-d no I can't be that immobile for six weeks without another parent or family around).

In other news, I was reflecting on so many Passovers over the years, trying to plot where I was and what I was up to. It's easy for me to look back on the blog, of course, as I've documented most of them since my Reform conversion back in April 2006. Let's take a gander:

• 2004-2005 (Nebraska): Evidently I went to a few seders during this time. I really don't remember with whom or where, however. 
• 2006 (Nebraska): I actually hadn't had my conversion yet when Passover rolled around. I spent the first night seder with the other handful of Jews at UNL in Seaton Hall for a very heavily pre-packaged seder experience (jellied gefilte, folks). For second night, I distinctly remember going up to Omaha to a very large synagogue (was it Conservative? Reform?) for a big seder. I don't remember much about the seder itself, but I do remember feeling like it was something I'd been doing for years. 
• 2007 (Chicago): It was probably my worst Passover, spent at a mega (Reform) shul community sederin Lakeview. Worst.
• 2008 (Chicago): A lot changed between 2007 and 2008. I had really started assessing where I was Jewishly, and it led me to an Orthodox synagogue just weeks before Passover. With the flip of a switch, I was set for a seder thanks to the rabbi, and it was probably one of the best, most memorable seders I've ever had. I'm guessing it's because it was the first 'real' seder experience I'd ever had. This was around the time that I was launched face first into the world of Orthodox Judaism and my current home religiously.
• 2009 (Florida): Yes, I got the obligatory "go away for Passover" experience when I schlepped to Florida for the first days of the holiday. Honestly, I look back on my Florida Passover adventures with a lot of fondness and happiness (my former in-laws are some very special people). This year we weren't super observant and made our way out to a Dunkin Donuts to get some chol ha'moed (middle days) coffee and visit the beach. It was pretty amazing. 
• 2010 (Florida): We were back in Florida. I didn't write about it, but I distinctly remember hanging out by the pool watching Jewish people enjoy the grilled burgers on ... hamburger buns! Happy Passover?
• 2011 (Monsey, NY): Funny story ... I totally forgot my ex and I were in Monsey, NY, for the seders. How did I forget that? We were with some pretty awesome cousins, and Monsey is always a trip. 
• 2012 (Denver): I'll never forget this Passover because it involved a turning point in my life that was pretty terrible when I was in the midst of it. I came out of this Passover with some big decisions, major betrayals, and a new perspective on needing to change my trajectory. The result? Applying for aliyah just a few months later. 
• 2013 (Edgware, England): One of my most favorite Passover experiences, I was in England just a short time after getting hitched to Mr. T. We traveled around London, me getting to do my touristy things, while schlepping cheese and matzah along the way. We had family sederim and rested in the comfort of each other's company. It was pretty amazing.
• 2014 (Neve Daniel, Israel): This was a bittersweet Passover because our entire apartment was packed up and on its way to the U.S. We had an amazing seder with our upstairs neighbors with a fairly newborn Asher who would. not. fall. asleep. I learned my lesson from that seder experience by putting him to bed before the seders this year, of course. 

These are Passover nachos! Just toss some (GF) matzah with olive oil
and salt, bake at 400 F for 5-10 minutes. Top as you see fit. Nosh!

And this year? Well, you've already heard a bit about this year. Two seders at the homes of two friends around the corner from each other here in Denver. The first night, I used the Rabbi Sacks haggadah, because that's what Mr. T was using in the U.K. and it gave me a minor connection to my husband. It went late, but it was fun and cozy. The second night, it was a raucous and exciting seder chock full of laughs, delicious food, and a fun drinking game. Both nights Asher was tucked away in a pack 'n' play nice and early and I got to feel like an adult for a few hours. 

Mr. T was busy working a Passover hotel by the shore in England, and he's heading off to Israel on Monday to prep for his immigration interview and take care of some last-minute copies and things he needs for the interview. I'm hoping that, considering my current circumstances with the foot and all, maybe they can bump the meeting a little sooner. Your prayers are always welcomed!

Back to entertaining the little one. It's been an interesting week with him off of daycare and me with a broken foot :) All I can say is thank G-d for Instacart! 

Good News, Better News

I've had a surprisingly uplifting few weeks. Even spending all day shopping and cleaning the apartment for Passover couldn't get me down. You're probably wondering why I turned my house over for Passover so early, right? Okay, let's start at the beginning. 

The Good News: I got an unexpected email last week from someone I'd been speaking with about a job opportunity back in November. The talks back then stalled and I was told they'd be hiring in mid-2015, so I took a job at The Jewish Experience and life plodded on. So the unexpected email came at a time when I needed a bit of a lift up. Finances have been really hard, life has been hard, everything has been impossible, but I've been doing it because I have no choice. In the span of a week, I talked to several people, and on Friday got the official job offer. 

I couldn't, absolutely couldn't, turn it down. 

I'll tell you all more about the job once I actually start it after Passover, but let me just say it's going to be exciting and it's going to give me the flexibility I need as a powerhouse working mother and the career boost I've been waiting for my entire career. 

The job has me trekking out to California on Sunday/Monday to meet the team and get jazzed about the awesome things coming, hence why I turned the house over for Passover today. I won't have Sunday, there's no daycare next Thursday, so ... there we are. Two weeks of matzah! Yay!

The Better News: I woke up to an email from my mother-in-law, which sent me into a tizzy searching my email inbox for ... yes ... a notice from the National Visa Center that they finally got around to looking at our paperwork, everything is in order, and Mr. T has an interview scheduled for May 15 in Jerusalem!

I'm going to pretend it was me sending an email every week for the past month reminding them that they received the revised paperwork on February 24 at 12:34 p.m. and it was signed for by ... you get the idea. I hope my nudging actually worked. Nothing else seemed to work (we were denied an expedite twice). 

So. Yay! Theoretically, from everything I've read, once the interview is complete they let him know on the spot whether he's been approved or denied. If he's approved, the process of getting the physical visa is quick. 

Please, please, please pray for a Shavuot reunion for us. On Shavuot, HaShem gave us the Torah. I pray that this year, for Shavuot, he'll give me my husband back. 

I want to thank everyone for the constant support, the kindness, the love, the understanding. The cheerleaders have gotten me through this madness, and I know you'll continue to get me through. I also want to thank the haters and the trolls for representing everything about myself that I could hate and complain about if I had the energy or time. The haters and trolls are the personal slam book that I've never had to write or open. Thank you for that. 

The Gordon-Bennett Immigration Update

I'm sure plenty of you out there in TV land are curious what's going on with the Gordon-Bennett family (beyond the trolls and small-minded folks that are tarrying about in online forums obsessing over my life, of course), so I thought I'd write up a little update. 

We're approaching a year in the immigration system and five months with Mr. T overseas. We haven't seen him in over two months, after my in-laws helped fly us to Israel for Asher's first birthday.

Mr. T's been floating between friends' apartments trying to keep busy with work, but unfortunately not seeing or speaking much to iBoy while in Israel. It's sad and breaks my heart that he's so far away from this branch of his family and unable to see his son. 

Ash and I are chugging along here in Denver, with the little man in daycare part time a few days a week and me working several part-time jobs trying to make it all work. I was finally able to do the drive back to Nebraska a few weeks ago to visit my dad (although I had to stop mid-way in both directions and grab a hotel because my arm was aching/falling asleep from reaching backwards to comfort the kid and, well, he wouldn't sleep in the car). Dad seems to be doing better, and he looks healthier, too. 

I've received kind help from local strangers and East Coast strangers, but ultimately all efforts to pull in Senator Michael Bennet's office and Congresswoman Diana DeGette's office have done little to nothing to expedite the process of our case so that the "we have 60 business days to look at your files and tell you that you messed something up and have to start all over again" issue becomes more like a 30 business day or even 45 business day wait period. 

I would have liked for my husband to be back for our second anniversary on February 20, but it didn't happen. I also would have liked for him to be back by Purim (March 4/5), but that won't be happening either. My prayer now is that he returns by Passover. There's no way we'd be able to go to Israel to spend the holiday with him because, well, it's one of the most expensive times to fly to Israel. We've joked that he could fly to Canada and we could meet there for Passover, but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. 

The truth? I've never really done Passover on my own. Not the whole house cleaning, seder stuff. I've always been out, had the husband cleaning, or been out of the city or country. I'm grateful to have had easy Passovers in the past, but I long to enjoy the seder with my husband and my son. A girl can dream, right? 

I continue to daven aggressively, cry daily, and try to stay calm and keep a big smile on my face so Ash keeps his cool, too (he's teething, so how cool can he really be?). 

I also keep telling myself that everything comes from HaShem, gam zu l'tovah (this, too, is for the good), and that HaShem doesn't give us anything that we can't handle. The truth is, my faith is stronger and more unwavering than ever, despite the fact that I understand less and less every single day that we're apart. 

This life, this world, none of it makes sense. We plan, G-d laughs. We pray, G-d doesn't answer. We cry, our tears dissolve. And still, we chug along, believing and hoping and praying that the reward for the trials and tribulations will be great and beautiful. That's why we keep going. 

So I'll continue to pray as Chana did. She, barren and unable to conceive, her silent, weeping prayers answered as she conceived Shmuel, and I, barren in my own way, with silent prayers upon my weary lips for my husband and the desire to conceive again, too.

And, as my amazing, kind husband says: Be Happy. 

Sukkot in the Land of Memory

Today is one of those days that's made for Mumford and Sons circa winter 2010-11.

Those were melancholy days where I spent a lot of time on the backroads of Pennsylvania on dangerous, winding roads drifting between a coffee shop and a Poconos bungalow that was never mine.

Leaves in burnt orange, rusty red, and deep marigold mixed with splashes of rain all send me back to that place, and Colorado is deep in that weather at the moment.

After a three-day holiday (that was the first two days of Sukkot plus Shabbat) home with the little one, where I was reminded -- once again and for the last time -- that I simply can't take Ash out at night, the oddest thing about not having Mr. T around on holidays and Shabbat became apparent.

Kiddush. Motzi. Havdalah.

It might seem like minutiae, but there are many things as far as ritual in Judaism that I was never keen on making my own. I know a lot of families where the husband does kiddush (that's the blessing over the wine on holidays and Shabbat typically) and the wife handles motzi (that's the blessing over the challot, or bread). In most communities havdalah (the blessings to mark the end of a holiday or Sabbath) is done at synagogue or handled by the husband at home. Yes, it seems very patriarchal, but for some reason, I really like those aspects of my married life.

I've been trying to remember whether, when I was single and religious, I did these things at home, relied on synagogue for them, or just didn't do them at all. Part of me thinks I heard the prayers at synagogue and covered my bases there, but part of me also feels like maybe I just didn't do them when I was alone at home, which is probably why I tried desperately to get meals out on the holidays so I didn't have to do them myself.

Does it sound weird? Being so unwilling to do a few simple blessings over some wine or bread once a week? After all, a woman is totally allowed and, in fact, encouraged to make kiddush. There's nothing about a woman not being able to say motzi, either.

There's just something that's always been comfortable in my world about having my husband, the "head" of the house, the super-duper, obligated-to-do-so-many-mitzvahs guy, taking control of these ritual acts. I'm all in love with being a progressive, forward-thinking working woman, but some things just feel right a certain way.

So I went through the motions, with Ash squiggling about, saying the prayers and inhaling gluten-free challah at a table set for the night meals. We'll repeat the ritual again at the end of Sukkot, too. But I'll be glad when the holidays are over.

The thing I keep telling myself is that the pain of separation from a spouse for the potential of months, not weeks, is that this is how people used to live. Husbands would go on trading routes or off to war for months, if not years, leaving wives and children back home to fend for themselves. In those days (even 50-100 years ago), there wasn't Skype or FaceTime or Facebook or texting or other instant forms of communication. There was a hope that -- maybe -- you'd hear from someone in a few weeks or months.

In reality, I'm spoiled. I'm lucky. I'm able to chat with Mr. T daily (save the three-day holiday situation and Shabbat, of course).

Then again, as a good friend R.C. pointed out, women also didn't have the obligations of full-time jobs back in those days. They stayed home and kept house or ran the shop with hired help or other similar assistance.

Although I'm going to miss many months of hearing my husband say prayers over the wine and bread we eat on a weekly basis, I'm blessed to live in the 21st century and in a Jewish community where people are ready and willing to help -- even if I don't always take people up on their kindness.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

The Update: Advance Parole, Immigration, Formula, and Daycare

Stay strong, they say, as I do things I had never intended had I ever become a mother.

And here I am, a mother, with Ash taste-testing some formula I purchased at Target while shopping for his daycare goodies (bed sheets, blankets, bibs, food) for his first day of impromptu daycare tomorrow. For now, he'll be attending daycare with other younguns every Tuesday and Wednesday, so I can get what little work I have to get done done and search for other jobs and interview for those jobs, and if, b'ezrat HaShem, I get one of those jobs we'll talk about full-time daycare.

I lament that I'm trying him out on formula, but this kid is crazy about solid food and seems to only feed at night and in the early morning hours, which means the mommy cow is low on supplies, and, paired with the fact that I've been home basically every day for the past however many months, means we have zero provisions for Ash in the freezer or fridge.

He's chugging the stuff. I'm insufficient. But you know what? It's fine. I'm fine.

I never wanted to put Ash in daycare. I always told myself that if I did have a kid I'd be a stay-at-home mom, or at least a mom who worked from home and was able to manage with a kid.

Fail.

I've also been sleep training Ash while his tatty is gone, because that's what happens when you make one parent responsible for getting the little one to sleep. I am miserable at getting Ash to sleep, so sleep training it is. Luckily, he's taking to it. A few minutes of tears, and he's out. Usually. It's the napping that's suffering, which is why it's 5:36 p.m. and he's asleep. (I guarantee he'll wake up again in about an hour.)

So Mr. T is out of the country indefinitely, thanks to an immigration law that says it takes forever once you start green card processing to get your travel documents, and if you don't have your travel documents, you're stuck in this country. Parent dies? Sorry, unless the right USCIS agent tells you to go to a local office to get an emergency "advance parole" document, you're up a creek. Unless, of course, you go ahead and leave the country anyway, in which case you screw yourself to the point of not being able to re-enter the USA. So that's where we are. I've emailed state senators, I've emailed local representatives. I've talked to a handful of lawyers. Everyone says the same thing:

Why did he leave? Did he know what he was doing when he left? That was a really stupid move. You guys really screwed up. Sorry, there's nothing that can be done. The law is the law. He'll have to transfer his case to the UK or Israel and wait 8-12 months for consular processing. Yes, that means he won't be able to see his son. Yes, that means he'll miss his son's first birthday. Sorry.

So there we are. The result was an emergency visit to the local daycare, an explanation of logistics, finances, and realities. We'll see how I do. We'll see how Ash does.

I keep telling myself that HaShem doesn't hand us anything that we can't handle. I'm starting to believe that this is a test of strength, commitment, and responsibility. Am I up to the challenge? I have to be. For Ash. Everything's for the Shmoogedy Boo. His happiness and well being are my utmost concern, and ultimately those things are dependent on my own sanity, happiness, and health.

Where will this road take us? Who knows. But I must continue to let HaShem guide me and lead me, however obscure and confusing the journey is.

A Day in the Life

Photos -- except the last one -- courtesy of Laura Ben-David of Nefesh b'Nefesh!

Getting off the plane. Smiling so big my face hurt!

After being shutteled over to the old terminal, we sit in orange 

chairs waiting for our names to be called for processing.  It is at 

this time that I realize my U.S. passport has had a sticker placed

in it by the Israeli Embassy with my Aliyah Visa!

Laura and I sit and chat. But mostly Laura was running around taking

so many amazing photographs. This woman is SUPER woman, seriously. 

Sitting down, signing paperwork, getting goodies, and learning a bit, too!

 The important things in life. SIM card with 200 minutes and my 

Teudat Olah (documentation of immigration, sort of like a passport). 

 The whole group -- exhausted, sweating, and ready to pick up our luggage!

And you've see this already, but this is me right before heading out

to the taxi that was to take me home -- to Nachlaot!