April 2008

I’ve noticed that family updates tend to be either “vertical” - by which I mean they comprise story snippets of the children one by one from youngest to oldest (a direction sometimes called, distastefully, “bottom up”) - or “horizontal” - by which I mean recountings of antics in which all participate as a family. As the children grow older and more independent (O! that double-edge sword – independence) the “horizontal” experiences grow sparser. How often does a family of eight hang out together, especially when two are in boarding school and one in the army? A learned sociologist could doubtless pen a landmark paper on this phenomenon to be called “Verticality and dehorizontalisation – etiology of the family cell”. The symptoms of verticalization are apparent as, to be honest, I have little horizontal news to share with you. So without further ado, as the parachutist once said, let’s go vertical.
Ari (20) is now two thirds a tankist. Physiotherapy, persistence and orthotics pulled him through the first two parts of basic training. After six months of the outdoor life, he looks healthy, tanned and lean, and sports, if I might say so myself, a quite becoming trim beard.
Ari returns home every two or three weeks, and his arrivals are cause for celebration. You have to understand that Ari is the lynch-pin of the family. He’s the oldest, the wise one. Everyone looks up to him; everyone loves him. He’s sweet and kind to all his brothers and sisters. Like parents, siblings don’t have favourites, but if they did, let’s say Ari would be a leading candidate for the title.
When Ari stumbles across the threshold weighed down by his huge kitbag, Abigail and Elisheva go wild with excitement and won’t leave him for a minute. Even Naphtali, who is cool, will give Ari a (very manly) hug. Over the weekend Elon and Ari will talk for hours. Even Daddy does his bit and in a rare act of affection, places the car-keys at Ari’s disposal. Judy fills the fridge and freezer with his favourite foods (ice-cream, all flavours). I ask Judy, what will you do when all three boys are in the army? Easy, she says, buy another fridge-freezer.
Ari spent seder in the army. This was the first time that any child of ours had missed a family seder. Gathered round our beautiful seder table at Barbara’s, where we are holidaying this year, we all stared sadly at the empty places set for Gilad Shalit and the other soldiers missing in action, but our hearts also went out to our own missing soldier (להבדיל), away without (his Mum’s) leave on guard duty.
Elon (17) is also close to the military. He recently participated in the “gibush” (training camp) for “Commando yami” (marine commandos). Several hundred hand-picked cadets compete for the “privilege” to begin training for this crack unit. For four days they were driven to the extremes of their physical and mental strength, running repeated sprints and long distances in deep soft sand, often carrying heavy weights or open stretchers, crawling through sand and mud and swimming in the freezing cold sea. Elon estimated he was in and out the sea, fully dressed, more than 100 times! Elon is one of the minority that completed the course, and although he will not be joining this unit, he has come back with enough tall stories to impress the girls for a long long time.
Naphtali (15) was selected, also from a long list of candidates, to be a madrich of Bnei Akiva for 13-year olds in Elkana. We hear from second- hand sources that the children adore him. This doesn’t surprise me. We’ve watched Naphtali for years play with his younger sisters and he certainly has a natural way with littl’uns. The group Naphtali takes is known to be the largest, wildest and toughest. If he can cope with them, he can cope with any rowdy unruly disobedient crowd. Sounds like perfect qualifications to become Speaker of the Knesset.
Naphtali continues to flourish at school. His teachers’ reports are glowing. His music teacher complains Naphtali is too musical to play just drums and insists he take up another instrument. Naphtali’s thinking of the bass guitar. Always practical I suggested adding a harmonica. A father needs to think about his son’s future, right? Drums, guitar, harmonica – the necessary ingredients for qualifying as a busker.
Music has given me and Naphtali a new common language. We share discussions on minims and rhythms, which is gibberish to the rest. I am always amazed at Naphtali’s ability to beat different rhythms at varying tempos with both arms and legs flying simultaneously in all directions, like an ambidextrous octopus (or quadropus, I suppose).
Orli (13) is one of the highest paid members of the Isaacs family. Daddy stays late at work – less due to long hours than to waking up late in the morning - and Judy is teaching three evenings a week this semester. So Orli often babysits for her two little sisters. Daddy, the Scotsman, takes comfort in knowing that at least the baby-sitter’s wages stay in the family. Orli continues to excel at school, considerately keeping her average just below 100 so as not to put all her friends to shame.
As Orli is now a very adult girl, she has already decided who she wants to marry. It doesn’t matter so much who he is as long as he is Dutch and Sepharadic, so that, once married, she can both eat kitniyot on Pesach and wait just one hour between milk and meat. No time to waste, so please forward contact information for appropriately-qualified candidates, by return mail.
Abigail (6) has a heart of gold, and several suitors in kindergarten who are trying to win it. Good luck to the boys. Who wouldn’t fall for this lovely playful laughing bunch of fun.
Knowing my chances of “winning” the afikoman were poor, in advance of the seder, I bought two little afikoman presents for Abigail - a logic puzzle that I knew she really wanted and another game. When I presented Abigail with her two prizes, she opened the logical puzzle with glee, but wouldn’t accept the other prize. She was content with the logical puzzle, and didn’t need anything else, thank you.
Elisheva (3) is a rascally bundle of endless energy. She has what they call “character”, knows what she wants and will do what it takes to get it. She worships Abigail and enjoys nothing more than playing with Abigail and Abigail’s friends. Three is the age where we teach our babies to swim (without armbands and floats). The sun is shining and Boobie’s pool is enticing. I’ll wager she’s swimming by Friday (today’s Monday).
Wishing you all a Happy Pesach.
Judy, Michael, Ari, Elon, Naphtali, Orli, Abigail and Elisheva Isaacs
P.S. By the way, Elisheva was swimming by Wednesday.