October 1999

This week is Birthday week. Naftali’s 7th and Orli’s 5th are separated by a mere 4 days (October 24th and 28th – “leminyanam”).
Breaking News
Naftali was overjoyed to receive a present of a skateboard from two of his friends. Unable to restrain their excitement, the friends brought round the skateboard on Friday afternoon, in advance of Naftali’s actual birthday (which fell on Sunday).
Do I need to begin to describe what went on in our house over Shabbat with 3 sons, half a dozen friends and 1 skateboard? However bad you think it could have been, believe me, it was worse. So Motzaei Shabbat Ari did the sensible thing (he normally does) and bought himself a skateboard too. On Sunday, he fell off it and broke his arm (not a sensible thing).
Poor Ari. He blames the fall on a little stone that he collided into at the bottom of a very long, steep and skilfully-negotiated descent. He protested his proficiency at skateboarding and assured us that this fall could and would have happened to the most seasoned skateboarder, even an X-Games champ. In my narrow-minded way, I prefer to look at the facts - Saturday, buy skateboard; Sunday, break arm. QED. What else is there to say?
The cast is on Ari’s right arm and stretches from below the elbow to the palm of his hand. He is still in some pain but well-compensated for the discomfort by being exempted at school from all writing tasks. To tell the truth, it breaks my heart to see his little arm in a cast. My own flesh and blood, in plaster. Must be getting soft in my old age. (By the way, did you get the pun in the heading of this section?).
So Who Are These People Anyway?
Let’s depart from the normal journalistic style of recounting wonderful things that the sickly sweet Isaacs family does in celebration of Life, Nature and the Common Good, and take an honest perspective on what this family is really all about via a snapshot peek at one or two of each person’s traits.
Orli (just turned 5) is our “Keatsian” child. She sees Beauty everywhere. Her vision penetrates the mundane and provides a perspective that Nature or my genes denied me. She finds Beauty in a small flower, a tassel on a dress or even a simple drawing. A little hand taps urgently at my shoulder and an excited voice calls “Look Daddy. Pretty”. Orli points to an object, such as a torn scrap of gift wrapping or a frill on a sock, and radiates a smile so joyous that you can’t help but smile with her. How I wish for that gift to perceive the vast resources of Beauty that lie fully visible yet unnoticed and unappreciated in G-d’s wonder-filled world. Man can travel the seven seas and devote a lifetime to the search of Beauty, yet rarely find it; while my 5 year old finds it, at every turn, dressed in pink ribbons.
Naftali (just turned 7) has just weathered his (first) Early Life crisis. Over the last year he has asserted his manhood. 12 months ago, in those blissful years of infancy when gender was not a charged issue, Naftali’s “gang” consisted of a charming bunch of females of the species. This year, he wrenched himself free of their stranglehold and successfully changed his identity to “one of the lads”. Today, he spends his time in the rough-and-tumble company of Ari, Elon and their friends - riding bikes, playing football, collecting wood for bonfires – and doing all the things that “big boys” do. In a few short years he will return to the attention of his former girl-friends, though for more sinister reasons. I hope they bear him no grudge, as I already have my eye on one or two of them as potential daughters-in-law.
As for Elon (8½), there is a rare consensus between Judy and myself that “there is no one like Elon”. For Better and For Worse. (In this letter, you will indulge me and let me concentrate on the “For Better”). Elon is strong as an ox, with a heart of gold. There is no physical challenge he cannot meet. From climbing trees to swallowing pills he did it years before any of his contemporaries. As goalkeeper in football, he dives fearlessly at the feet of his opponents; with his fearlessness, he was the obvious choice for catcher in his baseball team. He’s the one who will look after Orli, or play with a visitor’s baby, or carry the heaviest shopping bags from the car to the house. And he will sacrifice anything for his loved ones. He’s the sort of guy you’d want to have watching your back. Take some free advice – make him your friend.
Ari (11¾) is developing a highly sophisticated and (chutzpadik) sense of humour (reminds me of someone else at that age). He puns fluently in two languages. Incidentally, I myself pioneered the concept of the bi-lingual pun (especially sexual ones – know what I “mean”) and Ari could be my first protégé. Blessed with plenty of IQ points, understanding what he is taught in school is, for Ari, what the Americans call, a “no brainer”; he finds his challenge in making cheeky jokes at his poor teachers’ expense.
Ari is also our food connoisseur. He enjoys his food the way he likes it. Not any other way. Connoisseurs have always baffled me. For me, eating is a simple activity guided by two uncomplicated rules: Rule 1: If hungry, eat; Rule 2: If good, eat more. To this day I am mystified by (and perhaps impressed by, and even envious of) those who prefer to go hungry, rather than eat, simply because the food doesn’t taste nice enough. I suppose it’s a question of principles, and I’m short on them.
Tempting as it is, parents must not try to mould their kids into a genetic copy of themselves – or rather into a more successful version of themselves. I’m learning - with my son and daughter as my tutors – that there are worthwhile values in this world beyond the two I have identified and lived by (i.e. loving your fellow man and football). And so, I am forced to admire and respect characteristics in my children, that are absent from my own psychological make-up.
So now, it’s time for an honest evaluation of Judy and Michael. But unfortunately, I’ve run out of time and space. Anyway, honest appraisals of me are for the “ears” of the Almighty alone. I pray G-d preserves my sanity long enough to save me from spilling the beans about the demons inside me to a Shrink (apologies to YO). For all that I spread my children’s personal qualities on the electronic pages of the Internet for all to see, I wish to take my own demons quietly with me to the grave.

Lots of love, as always
Michael (and demons), Judy, Ari, Elon, Naftali and Orli Isaacs