Guest Post: How I Learned to Love Boobin'

 By Ani Lipitz

Ani lives in Brooklyn with her awesome husband and adorable baby. She runs the (sadly neglected) Jewish mysticism blog, Light & Coffee. Ani will get her Lactation Counselor certification at the end of the summer.

Looking back, I don't know how I managed to soldier through those first few months, but I'm glad I did. There was no secret recipe for boobin' success, no expert tricks or tips. Just plain old persistence. 

How I Learned to Love Boobin'

by Ani Lipitz

As I sit here typing this, my seven-month old is laying on a pillow in my lap, happily enjoying what our little family has come to call “boobin'”. He nurses with a look of pure bliss on his face, stopping to smile at me as I gaze down at him. He reaches his sweet little hand up and strokes my hair. I melt a little.

Then, with demon-like speed, he grabs a handful and yanks a clump right out of my scalp. I screech in pain. He giggles.

Ah, the joys of breastfeeding.

Despite my bald patches (and the occasional bite mark, now that he's sprouted two razor-sharp chompers), I love nursing. And frankly, that's a miracle, given the way we kicked off our boobin' relationship.  

My baby was delivered via C-section after a labor filled with pretty much every intervention imaginable. After he was born, we were separated for more than three hours. When the nurses finally brought him to me, the very first thing I did was put him to the boob as I proudly checked off the “Exclusively Breastfed” box on his medical chart. After some coaxing, he sleepily opened his mouth and latched. I waited eagerly for the wave of maternal ecstasy I'd read so much about to wash gently over me.

Instead, I got thrashed by a tsunami of toe-curling pain.

I quickly went over the mental checklist I'd compiled from the breastfeeding research I did in the weeks before he was born. Mouth wide open and covering the bottom of the aureola? Check. Lips flanged out? Check. Head tilted slightly back? Check. “Well, WTF?” I thought. “We're doing everything right!”

The staff lactation consultant later confirmed this. “You've got a textbook latch!” she announced. “It just takes a little time for your nipples to toughen up.” I thanked her for her help, secretly doubting that this applied in a situation where a freak genetic accident caused a baby's tongue to be made out of sandpaper, as I suspected was the case with my kid.

Raw nipples aside, the next 24 hours seemed to go swimmingly. The baby had the right amount of poop diapers. He was nursing every two hours or so. He was chill and content between feedings.

And then he started crying. And he wouldn't stop. For hours.

Exhausted and frazzled, I finally summoned the nurse. She promptly diagnosed my baby with an empty tummy and stuck a bottle of formula in his mouth. He sucked it down in minutes and then fell asleep as I watched, crestfallen. “You get some sleep, too,” the nurse said, as she wheeled his bassinet to the nursery. Feeling like a horrible failure, I did.

The problems got worse after we went home. Sore nipples turned into bloody nipples, which I tried to remedy by stuffing frozen cabbage leafs into my bra. (Nobody told me I was supposed to use purple cabbage leafs. I used green and ended up smelling like halupkies for three days). My milk took extra long to come in because of the C-section. The baby cried for more nursing every time I thought he was done eating. I cried every time I supplemented with formula. Then the baby went two days without pooping, and the pediatrician wanted us to come in for a weight check. He had lost almost a pound in the ten days since he'd been born. That scared me. I wanted to give up nursing, but the pediatrician insisted that I visit her practice's lactation consultant to try and make things work. Not really believing it would work, I agreed.

The lactation consultant was amazing. She gave me exercises to do with my baby to strengthen his sucking ability. She put me on a pumping regimen and prescribed raspberry and nettle leaf tea to help boost my diminished milk supply. Within a week, my boobs were leaking, and my baby was gaining weight again!

But the whole ordeal left my confidence totally shot. I was constantly worried that he wasn't getting enough milk. Every weight check felt like Judgment Day, and every ounce he gained felt like a temporary stay of execution. The baby still wanted to nurse every hour during the day, and nursing sessions could last 45 minutes. Clusterfeeding was a way of life. All I wanted was to get off the couch and get my figure back, but all he wanted to do was boob.

Then, when he hit three months old – miracle of miracles! - he started going three hours between feedings. I could go out for a coffee! I could go grocery shopping! I could actually leave our 500 square-foot studio apartment! The possibilities were intoxicating!

Looking back, I don't know how I managed to soldier through those first few months, but I'm glad I did. There was no secret recipe for boobin' success, no expert tricks or tips. Just plain old persistence. Boobin' forces me to take a break from the craziness of my day to really connect with my baby. It's a mandatory time-out every few hours to make sure I relax and enjoy him. Cheesy as it is, it makes me feel natural and womanly. And on top of all that, my kid is really freakin' cute when he's nursing (hair-yanking and boob-biting aside).

But I still really, really, really hope it's easier next time around!

LUNCHES MAKE ME CRINGE: The search for healthier lunches on a budget

By Becky Brownstein 

Becky Brownstein is a  wife, mother of five, cleaning lady, chef, program/trip organizer, taxi driver, blogger and all around great gal that lives in Kingston, Pennsylvania. Visit her website at http://spitsgiggles.blogspot.com where she shares all her experiences as a mother with the motto, "When all else fails, laugh!" 

LUNCHES MAKE ME CRINGE: 
The search for healthier lunches on a budget
(+ 4 lunch ideas you should try!)

Lunches. Uch... Just the word alone makes me cringe. It’s the last chore of the night (on a good night) and it’s the hardest. Especially when the cupboards are running low. As soon as you start chucking cereal in a bag, you know it’s time to go to the store.

Last school year I made it my own “Mother-Mission” to make healthier lunches without going over my food budget. I also wanted to get rid of the guilt of spending money on baggies that just get tossed out without a second glance. When I keep to a budget, I have to keep everything in mind. With my budget in mind and with the idea of not over-using baggies, I set out to look for a reusable container that would make that possible.

I found these sectioned ziploc containers.

They held up for a few months so I had to replace them in the middle of the year plus, they leaked. A lot. I spent a lot of time saran wrapping the apple sauce inside one of the sections. But it still didn’t cost as much as an actual apple sauce to go cup. Plus, it was one container to clean and it was durable. But the con’s outweighed the pro’s, so this school year I set out to spend a little more money and get something better.

I found this Rubbermaid lunchblox kit.

That blue thing in the middle is an ice pack. They are durable, easily washable, sparkle when they are clean and look really cute. The kids like them better since they can grab one container to take out to recess.  A few of the con’s are It’s easier for the kids to lose lids or misplace them.

The lids also have potential to get yucky stuff trapped so you have to make sure to clean those out well. I also have so many little containers to wash. But it beats saran wrapping. I fill up a sink tub with hot soapy water and either me or the kids will chuck the containers inside.

I mainly use the Lunchblox kit for the fresh fruit and vegetables. I use smaller ziploc containers for the carb snacks. I have 1 box of sandwich baggies for the times I must use them (usually for half a cucumber or tomato), or the times my kids ask for extra snacks, but other than those few times, I don’t use them.

When making lunches I try to think of healthy foods that I know my kids will like, not what I hope they’ll like. I usually ask them “will you guys eat green beans if they were in your lunch?” Either they will answer excitedly or look at me like I was insane and yell “no way!” I also try to keep things the same for everyone. If I know all the kids will eat grapes, I’ll put grapes. But if two kids don’t like bananas, I won’t put bananas at all. But if it’s only one kid who has an aversion to that specific food I’ll make an exception. If I had to make different things for everyone, it would make things really hard for me. Plus, there is a greater chance for mess ups.

One time my daughter came home with two full containers of applesauce and said to me “I don’t even like applesauce!” Shortly after, my husband came home and said “I would like to speak with your quality control department please.” He came home with one full container of grapes. He ate the other. So yeah, mess ups happen. Especially because it’s the last chore of the night. Don’t judge!

Now the fun part!

LUNCH #1

For the main dish I made flat bread (easiest and quickest to make when I didn’t have a chance to get bread) with a small cup of jelly for dipping. Next to that is homemade granola that the kids LOVED. Then it’s cut up baby carrots, applesauce and cut up watermelon.


LUNCH #2

The main dish is tomato, cucumber and lettuce sandwich with a a little bit of mayo. The sides are dried fruit and nuts, pickles, deviled eggs, pretzels and a clementine or half an apple.

LUNCH #3

The main dish is a pizza pocket. (I take frozen dinner rolls out while I make dinner and let them defrost/rise until I am ready to make lunches. I then shape them into round circles, add sauce, cheese and mushrooms or olives and bake.) The sides are edamame beans, applesauce, grapes and corn chips.


Lunch #4 

The main dish is a cream cheese sandwich. Not that exciting but the kids could eat those every day. The sides are sugar snap peas, cantaloupe (one is kiwi since my oldest hates cantaloupe) dried fruit and nuts and homemade date bars. (It was my first attempt at these whole wheat bars and I had to agree with my kids that they sucked. I will not be making those again.)

These are just a few examples. I juggle things around, switch around the vegetable options and try to pick things my kids will like. I am not a dietician or a crazy health nut. I just know my kids and know their reaction to overloads of sugar. They crash. Big time! Plus, if I give them sweets as snacks, they are hungry not even an hour later and come home with crazy stomach pains. I used to send them with store bought granola bars but they didn’t feel well after. 

After starting to make lunches like these, my kids have been coming home with empty containers and started requesting healthy snacks first when they are home without even realizing it. Because of that I don’t buy a lot of the snacks I used to. It’s a lot healthier and makes them a lot happier. Sugar treats have become just that, treats.

10 Reasons I'm (Still) Overweight

By Mimi Hecht 




A few weeks ago, not coincidentally just after the cheesecake holiday, I hit a remarkable low in my years and years of yo-yo dieting. I was feeling fat, tired, hopeless—questioning my ability to ever get it together and work towards the healthy and thin body I have always craved. 

Since I was 15, I've been conscious of my weight. Not in an insecure way. In fact, sometimes I feel like had I been more insecure like the girls around me, perhaps I'd actually have the determination to succeed at a diet. But even with feeling pretty confident with my body, I always wanted to be thinner. And even when people complimented my body for it's height and supposedly lean look, I was very aware of the extra flubber that weighed me down and prevented me from fitting into things better. I have always been what some people like to call "tall and big boned" but it's really called "overweight." I wear it well, but I have always been about 15 pounds overweight. And then I lose it. Then I gain it. Even at my wedding, when I looked and felt amazing, I was still overweight. 

Last summer, I lost 15 pounds. I felt amazing, confident, and hopeful that in the near future I would be my ideal weight. But then I let go. I didn't binge or lose total control, but I lost sight of the discipline. Now, a year later, I just found out that I have slowly gained back all the weight I had lost from my hard work. The extra weight is burdensome, but more so the realization that I couldn't hold on to my success and keep the weight off. As you can imagine, I feel pretty down about my lack of control. I feel reckless. And desperate. 

I've decided that if I have to lose weight and do this now, for good, or it's never. And I know what needs to be different is actually addressing why I fail—actually dissecting my habits that have up until now built so many stories of failure.

I've started seeing my diet downfalls as more of a mental sickness. Okay, I know that sounds harsh. Who doesn't struggle with their weight? It's normal. But identifying what makes my struggles unique is now laying the groundwork for a successful non-dieting experience. I like to call it the "Get your S!*t together, Mimi" plan. 

I'm about to make myself embarrassingly vulnerable. But I believe deeply that joining together in honesty is often a solution, if not simply healing. And maybe this will help just one more person. So here it is. 

Ten Reasons I'm (Still) Overweight 
(And what needs to change)

1. TOO MUCH TALK.

I am an excitable person. So when I resolve to get fit and lose weight, it comes with a lot of passion. And with that passion, naturally, comes publicity. I talk about why I'm dieting (again), what my plan is (foolproof, no doubt), why it's going to work this time (riiiiiight). Talk, talk. Blah, blah, blah...on and on. I don't know how my husband, sister and friends have not clobbered me over the head yet. TOO. MUCH. TALK. As if all my dialogue is an actual exercise. When, in fact, its simply just making me feel like I'm being more active and productive than I really am. 

Not to self: Stop talking. It does not burn calories. 

2. LIVING THE IDEAL IN MY HEAD. 

I feel proud that I know a lot about dieting and health. I'm not someone who doesn't understand what being healthy requires. And, just like I have a jabbering issue, I also have this deep need to make it known that I am not some uneducated, incapable neb. So I have this shtik where I make it very known to myself that if I wanted, I could lose weight in a jiffy and rock it. But, alas, just like talking doesn't get me the body I want, spending time flaunting and hashing over my ideals in my mind is equally tricking. It makes me feel like I'm okay, when I'm really suffering. 

Note to self: Stop spending time thinking you're good at this and start feeling just a taaaaad more pathetic. 

3. I REWARD MYSELF WITH FOOD.

This is an obvious one for most people. But I feel like I have an extreme case. Forget birthdays and other special occasions. I use food to reward myself for a plethora of average accomplishments. Like still being alive at the end of the day. Oddly enough, I'll even reward myself with a cookie for having a healthy breakfast earlier. (So now you see why I used the term "mental illness?") Indulging in food when I feel I deserve it is something that I will have to struggle to be conscious of, probably my entire life. When I had my miscarriage a few months ago, I wasn't even aware of how I let go. Even though I wasn't obviously downtrodden about the experience, I still told myself "I deserve this. Look what I just went through. Now is not the time for discipline." It's different than emotional eating. It's excusing and reasoning unhealthy habits, and convincing myself it's a deserved present. 

Note to self: Newsflash! Getting fat is not a gift. And it's not your birthday everyday. 

4. I IDOLIZE SKINNY PEOPLE. 

I don't mean to scare all my skinny friends, but this is how I think: Being skinny is awesome. You have no problems. You always feel great in your body. Everyone adores you instantly. I know this isn't true, but my mind certainly goes there. It takes a lot to admit this when I take pride in not being victim to society's messages about our bodies. But

Note to self: Being thin is not Moshiach. It will feel great, but you will not turn into a unicorn.

5. I THINK THIN PEOPLE DON'T NEED TO TRY.  

I know that some people are blessed with speedfast metabolisms and the ability to eat whatever they want with no proof on their tiny frames. But the truth is that most people who maintain great figures and healthy bodies DO have to work at it. I realized I have this ill mindset when I caught myself repeatedly telling my skinny (and drop dead gorgeous) sister "Why don't you just eat that? Your thin!" and "Seriously why are you being so disciplined, you've got an amazing figure!" What was I really expressing? This notion that skinny people are gifted with this magical spell that allows them to be reckless without any effect on their bodies. This would explain why every time I lose some weight I eat like a pig, unconsciously succumbing to this non-existant magical spell. 

Note to self: Being skinny takes work. This is not a Houdini show.

6. I GIVE MYSELF CREDIT WHERE IT'S NOT DUE.

Often, when I diet successfully and lose a little weight, I start to feel really awesome. Like, wow, I did it. So I reward. I let go. I lose sight. And the weight I'm so convinced can't possibly come from this little "reward" creeps on unexpectedly and the cycle repeats. 

Note to self: You may be awesome, but you're not skinny. Reach your goal and then we'll talk about throwing you a little party. 

7. I WANT TO BE THAT DIETING GIRL.

Ever since I was in high school, dieting was cool. Whether you were the girl not putting sugar in her coffee (wow, she's so disciplined!) or the gal keeping a legitimate food diary, there was always this certain "chic" image that went along with going to great lengths to lose weight. Maybe it's because these people in my life were always skinny to begin with? :) Either way, I always wanted that to be me. This notion has always led me to fad diets, and often unbalanced ones. So this time around, I am not dieting. I am taking the coolness out of it. Instead, I am just doing what I need to do to get where I need to be. 

Note to self: "Diet" is your new four-letter-word. Use with caution. 

8. PORTION CONTROL? WHAT'S THAT? 

Once I'm eating, I just. don't. stop. I love food. I repeat: I LOVE food. But the truth is, when I sit down to eat, it's more like turning an engine on. The smells and tastes just keep rushing in, giving me a sort of high that prevents me from pressing the "you're full" button.

Note to self: You are inhaling your food. Stop eating like there are ten starving Mimi's nestled inside of you. 

9. I RELY ON OTHER PEOPLE.

I'm a socialite, so I always like to join up with others when it comes to diet and exercise. I try and drag my friends into it. My husband. Someone who will share the burden of discipline I just can't seem to handle myself. Will you exercise with me? Let's report to each other. What are you doing? I'll do it, too. But this really just reflects an inability to take control...of my own overweight self.

Note to self: If you want to lose weight, it's going to have to be exactly that: YOU.

10. I OWN AN EXCUSES FACTORY.

I don't have a good place to walk. It doesn't fit into my schedule. We need to live near a Trader Joe's. I work too hard to give this energy. I need better walking shoes. The weather is bad. I was hungry and there was nothing else to eat. It's Shabbos. I might as well say, "I just don't want to." I mean, seriously. 

Note to self: Everything is as right as it ever will be. All you need is to want it. 

Okay, phew. It feels good to get that all out in writing. Thanks for listening. I welcome all your insights, advice, book recommendations, recipes...and I also want to hear if you relate to any of this— if you've conquered any of these bad habits yourself! 

Because of all these deeply engrained mental pitfalls, I feel like finally losing real weight is going to be like moving a mountain. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of bad habits like not sitting down to eat, skipping breakfast and picking at my kids' food. But, alas, the most overarching epiphany is just the absolute grossness I feel when I fall so low. And reminding myself of that -- coupled with a new awareness about my lifelong downfalls -- is already working to get my tush into gear (I waited to see some success before I wrote this!). So here's some good news to round this up and accelerate more progress: I have lost 4 lbs since last Monday!  


                                                       

A very special shout out to my smart, sensitive and supportive sister Mushky for being there for me through this process—for helping me make the right conclusions and get active, but mostly for rooting me on along the way! Soon I will be borrowing your clothes, mark my word.

                                                

Behold, the Power of the Chocolate Chip

By Mimi Hecht 

I can just hear people from the future, saying, "Ahhhh, remember Trader Joe's pareve chocolate chips? We thought the world was ending so we all stocked up. I still have one bag that I saved. Wanna see it?"

BEHOLD, THE POWER OF THE CHOCOLATE CHIP 

This week, the Jewish community — and specially the Chalav Yisroel adhering community — took a hard blow with the news that Trader Joe's famous chocolate chips will no longer remain pareve, soon to be stamped "OU-D" for "Dairy." News from the top is that, in actuality, they will be DE (Dairy Equipment), still rendering the chocolate chips off-limits for the many Lubavitchers who don't eat "DE" and for everyone else, unable to be served alongside meat.

Never before have I seen chocolate chips get so much publicity. Everyone's fainting on Facebook. Gathering the masses in uproar, signing petitions, arguing about the implications, defending the taste and flavor of these beloved chocolate morsels to anyone who dares question their superiority. 

It's interesting how quickly people recognize what they have only when it's threatened. 

(Okay, I know what you're thinking. Here Mimi goes, getting all intense on us. But, seriously people, this is deep stuff.)

We get used to things. We need and desire our homes, our clothes and our cars with such liveliness, but as soon as they are "ours" for longer than six milliseconds, it's all too easy to forget the life we had prior to their purchase. The life we had when everything depended on owning them. And the same things go with "smaller" blessings that we encounter without thinking thankfully. Like that someone invented those Garden Veggie Straws we give our kids guilt-free. Or that there is something called nail polish remover. And seriously, what would we do if they discovered that Facebook was illegal and needed to be shut down? (Personally, I just got goosebumps.) 

I wonder if anyone over the years has stopped to think, "Wow, thank goodness these chocolate chips are pareve. What would we do without them?" Probably not. Sure, we're conscious that we love them. After all, they're mostly everyone's chocolate chip of choice. But we toss them into the cookie dough with abandon, hardly stopping to think that maybe, just maybe, one day they could be a distant memory. 

I can just hear people from the future, saying, "Ahhhh, remember Trader Joe's pareve chocolate chips? We thought the world was ending so we all stocked up. I still have one bag that I saved. Wanna see it?"

I think its rad that women are sending around the change.org petition. Power to the people. If there's a chance it can stay pareve, let's push for it! But let's also hear the deeper message from this unfortunate news and what it's unleashed. Let us all be grateful that not only does there exist this brilliant invention called the chocolate chip, but that its species comes in a variety of brands and packaging that, should we be forced, might actually make a fine new option. 

We must ask ourselves: If our lives are filled with the knowledge of all we have to be thankful for, would some chocolate chips really throw us off? Are our lives really so narrow that they become disrupted this easily? Are there other, bigger, issues that should be vying for our time, our voice? What, here, is really the issue? 

I encourage you to ponder these questions. As central to our lives as this sweet creation is, there is something very freeing about not being victim to a few morsels of chocolate.

Why Chabad Won't be at the Anti-Internet Rally

Mimi Hecht

While some got caught in the dangers and fear of modernity, the Rebbe knew it was all 

here for us to orient it towards a better, more productive, more united world.

Why Chabad Won't be at the Anti-Internet Rally 

When I first read about the anti-internet rally online, I thought it was a really clever spoof. Then I read online that it was real, and was spooked. I had so many questions to Google. Why would someone in the year 2012 be anti-internet? How does someone inform the masses of their anti-internet rally without the internet? Who would be Facebook-invited to this gathering? Would it be tweeted live? If I can't make it there, could I catch some sort of live telecast? 

Alas, I kid. And you're gathering from my tone that I'm certainly not among the event-planners, nor am I supporter. In fact, despite the fact that there are thousands of people expected to attend the "Jews Against the Internet" rally at CitiFeild this Sunday, I don't personally know anyone that will be attending.

Why? Because I am Chabad. And proud. 

While the Lubavitch community is also Chassidic and practically just as "ultra-orthodox" as the folks arranging and attending this rally, we will have virtually no representation. Not because we can't agree with the concern, but because we can't be concerned. 

Remember us? We're the ones that built the Chabad.org and began educating and inspiring millions of Jews around the world way before anyone had any time to consider any "internet dangers." You tell a Lubavitcher "The internet is scary, stay far away," and he will laugh and say "Dude, where have you been?" 

Oh, the gifts the Lubavitcher Rebbe gave us. The power be see our strict commitment to Jewish law and principle as going hand-in-hand with modernity. To see all of the world—yes, with all its potential ills—as a means towards a powerful end. 

The Lubavitcher Rebbe never emphasized the disease, always the cure. And in every physical, emotional and spiritual case of sickness, the solution was always about introducing an active, real and alive force of good. The Rebbe was not naive to certain modern dangers. He encouraged people (privately, not taking time in a public address) to be careful with lots of modern inventions, including contacts and ultrasounds. But when it came to technology, the Rebbe was amazed, encouraging and anxious to use it for healing, for education, for the betterment of the world. While some got caught in the dangers and fear of modernity, the Rebbe knew it was all here for us to orient it towards a better, more productive, more united world.

In effect, where the rest of the world sees a problem, Chabad sees a resolution. Where all the other "Greats of Israel" see a stumbling block, we see an opportunity. When everyone is getting their feathers ruffled in the excitement of banning and inducing fear, Chabad always has a positive message of "Yes you can, here's how."

How much time have the Yeshivish and Chassidic communities of New York (and indeed the world) wasted on their protests and anti-this and anti-that banners? Have they ever stopped to consider that a little light will dispel a lot of darkness? That, just imagine, there are sparks of Godliness inherent in everything? That almost anything, when used as a force of good, becomes a force of good? 

I would never imply that the Chabad community is immune to the potential "dangers" of the internet. I'm not saying that the spiritual havens that are our homes can't use a break from the internet, or even a good internet-guard.  What I am saying is that we're certainly more sensitive to our worldly responsibility to uplift God's inventions. And we definitely don't insult Him by using our God-given time and voice to rally against them. 

The joke is that the rally is planned for the first day of the Hebrew month of Sivan, a day considered fortuitous in regard to children's education. The idea that combatting the "evils" of the internet is a important step in the growth of our children is actually disastrous. Banishment may keep the bad away, but since when does it encourage good? What will take it's place? What we all need, and specifically our youth, is something that is given forth with strength and positivity, not another message of "don't touch this" and "be careful." The rest of the ultra-Orthodox world has a lot to learn from Chabad in this regard. For starters, giant rallies of music and floats and chants and cheering, all centered around our beloved heritage. The real kind of rally. The kind of rally that rallies were invented for. 

Sure, the question will always linger regarding what the Rebbe would say now of the plethora of new inventions and their societal implications today. But this wondering is almost null: heed the Rebbe's voice of uplifting everything towards the divine and staying busy with the spiritual revolution and you won't need to lose your voice shouting about the dangers of something that 99% of the world sees as wonderful device of messianic proportions.

So sorry Chabad can't make it. We're just a little too busy changing the world with our blessed internet and everything else. 

If only religious Jews would see the internet not as a place of violence, sexuality and the spread of doubtful information, but a place of tremendous opportunity to illuminate, connect and grow. If only religious Jews would learn that "In the times of Moshiach, the entire world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d" and realize that, hmm, that sounds like the internet! But mostly, if only religious Jews would understand what Chabad has known all along: that being "anti" will never make a pro. 

P.S. One more thing: I will be at CitiFeild this month. On May 30th, to watch my husband Moshe perform his inspiring and soulful Jewish music, to inspire the masses and make a true Kiddush Hashem. Because that's how we roll here at Chabad.

My Time Cover :)

(Comment and share this picture from Facebook.com/JewishWomen)

May every woman and mother bask in the rays of the Shabbat message

 that EVERYTHING is good ENOUGH. 

Pat yourself on the back for working hard, striving not to be THE best 

but YOUR best—the woman/wife/mother that's right for YOU. 

POWER TO ALL MOMS WHO MARCH TO THE BEAT OF THEIR OWN DRUM 

and love and support one another! 

Good Shabbos LadyMamas! 

Dear Baby Belly: A Letter To My Not-So-Postpartum Stomach Flab

Mimi Hecht

 I have an army of friends and family that have accepted your presence on their own perfectly traumatized bodies. And, you hear me, we still look frikkin' awesome.

DEAR BABY BELLY

A Letter to my Not-So-Postpartum Stomach Flab

Dear Baby Belly,


It's been over a year since giving birth, so I figured it was high time you and I had a little talk.


Oh, stomach flab...


I'd ask how you are, but I know the answer. You're just hanging around, enjoying life. Laughing as you watch me change outfits a million times because nothing can hide you well enough to convince people that I am back to my pre-baby body. I know you've been through a lot—you have ballooned, stretched and become super firm, only to fall to the force of gravity in a less than complimented world of postpartum body image. But seriously, I am the one that has to wear you!


And its annoying because I actually lost my baby weight. But you, baby bump, must still linger. You need everyone to know that my body has birthed. You need to make clear that the high waisted skirt look will always be conquered by those that have yet to make the foray into frump.

A childfree-by-choice Orthodox woman speaks out

By Anonymous

The author studied at day school, attended yeshiva high school, spent time at a seminary in Israel, graduated from a Jewish college and works in the Jewish community. She is your average orthodox Jewish girl next door. If you wish to get in touch with her, please e-mail blog@ladymama.org 

My Non-Pregnancy Project

A childfree-by-choice Orthodox woman

"...As I creep closer to age 30, I have waited for the desire to have a child 

to take over and make me rush to the pre-natal vitamins instead of

 my BC pill....Yet, that day has not come."

“Procreation is not the only meaning of life, for then life in itself would become meaningless, and 
something which in itself is meaningless cannot be rendered meaningful merely by its perpetuation.” 
- Viktor Frankl, M.D., Ph.D., Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor

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Before I got married I never thought about having children. I was never the type of girl to enjoy babysitting or daydream about motherhood and babies; perhaps it is because I am the youngest sibling. However, I did remember the lesson not to get married unless you felt ready for kids, as a natural possible byproduct of the union; and I was ok with that. If all of our precautions failed and I got pregnant I felt that I could rise to the occasion.

 However, as the years passed with no such incident, I started to think less about if I got pregnant and more about the why.

 The first commandment is Pru U’rvoo, to be fruitful and multiply. From a halachic standpoint, due to the potential health risks involved, women are technically NOT obligated to have children. Each time I was taught this concept in school and seminary it was always followed up with: “But, women have a natural maternal urge, so it works out.”

Yet, for years I have struggled with my role and purpose in Orthodox Judaism. I am not obligated in time bound mitzvot because I should be preoccupied with my children. I’m confounded by how has our whole purpose as Jewish women somehow got wrapped up in a commandment that we aren’t even obligated in?

 So, as the years have progressed in my nearly five years of marriage, and as I creep closer to age 30, I have waited for the desire to have a child to take over and make me rush to the pre-natal vitamins instead of my BC pill.

Yet, that day has not come. Where before I worried about not being a good mother, now I worry about even coming to the decision to become a mother.

 I think all women are raised with a certain understanding that one day they will have children. It’s the natural process of life. We grow up playing house and with our baby dolls, we joyfully sing, “first comes loves, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage;” these are the facts of life. So after I fell in love, got married and was faced with the next step, now through adult eyes, I realized it wasn’t as simple as the childhood song made it seem.

 When I broached the topic with my husband he responded, “I never really thought about kids honestly, I always just assumed my wife would decide and I would just join along when she felt ready.” It seems we both got married under the assumption that one day I would want kids, because that’s just what comes natural to all women, right?

 For us, we agree that having kids is the biggest decision we will ever make in our lives, even bigger than marriage. Therefore, we do not take it lightly. We do not want to ‘just do it’ on the advice that ‘it’s the greatest and hardest thing you’ll ever do” or “you can not fully understand love until you have a child” or all those other philosophical thoughts that just read to us as “misery loves company.” So for now, we continue to enjoy our lives, time together to ourselves, freedom, advancing in our careers, fulfilling our dreams, reaching our life goals and generally being happy. We both figure that one day there will be kids in the picture, but the exact when still alludes us. Some may accuse us of being selfish, but to me it is more selfish to bring another person into the world who is not 100% wanted on the off chance that "Once you hold your child everything else will seem meaningless."

 Early on in my marriage, friends and family would always automatically look at my stomach if I had not seen them in awhile. I picked up a habit of always having an alcoholic drink in my hand at such occasions. At about the 2-year marriage mark people gave up on us and left us alone. I have to admit, it was nice. Whether they thought we were having fertility issues (not that we know of), or just weren’t ready (I guess that’s pretty much true), they stopped asking, making comments and even looking! It was kind of a relief.

 In our day and age, I do not think it is fair to make women like me feel like there is something wrong with us just because we don’t have the ‘maternal instinct.’ It’s not fair to tell us were ‘over thinking’ the whole having kids thing, how can you not with such an important decision that not only impacts the rest of your life, the lives of all those around you, but most importantly the life of this innocent bystander who did not ask to be born.

 I myself wish I could ask the woman who has been married as long as, or longer than, myself who also doesn’t have kids if she is like me. Heck, I want to ask the woman who gives birth 9 months after her wedding how she came to such a monumental decision such a short time into her marriage. Of course, I do not ask because at the end of the day it is none of my business. But I would love to chat with someone like me so I don’t feel so alone in my choice and I would love to hear how and why mothers came to the decision to have a child-or do they feel like the decision was made for them by the society they live in.

 All my close married friends have one, two or more children now because, “The time was right.” So I feel like I need to maintain a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy (hence the anonymity of this post) so as not to insult my family, in-laws, employers and the general assumption that all orthodox Jewish women want kids. For those I have told, many react with relief, “I assumed you were having trouble.” Followed by, “Wow! You are so impressively independent that you don’t give in to peer pressure!” and finally, “Is your husband ok with this?”

So we leave it alone, others try to rack their brains to understand me, and others still try to convince me to have kids. For the latter, I tell them that if it makes them happy to try they can, but it’s pretty futile. I have already gone over every argument and scenario in my mind before reaching my current disposition. Basically they all stem from the knowledge that there are no guarantees in life.

For example:

 “It will bring you and your husband so much closer”
 -From what I’ve heard, having kids, and the subsequent at least 18 years raising them, are the hardest and most trying time for a marriage. Ever hear of ‘if it aint broke, don’t fix it?’

 “Imagine all the nachas (pride) and love they will bring you!”
 -What if your kids don’t fit into your mold of the ideal child? Don’t you think basing your entire fulfillment in life on your kids is a bit too much pressure to put on them?

 “G-d doesn’t give people kids they cannot handle” (yes, I have really gotten this one)
-If that is so, why are there so many kids up for adoption?

 “Don’t you want grandkids?”
-Can you guarantee me that MY kids will have kids?

 “Who will take care of you when you’re old?”
 -Can you guarantee me that my kids will do that?

 “It is your responsibility to keep Judaism going! Don’t be your own Hitler”
-Again, can you guarantee me that MY kids will have kids or that they will follow Judaism?

 These cannot be the reason to have kids.

 Please do not misunderstand my position as disrespect. My prayers are with all those who do want kids and are suffering from infertility. And I love all the wonderful mothers I know and enjoy seeing my friend’s transition into that role in their lives. I only hope to express that not everyone should be expected to be the same. What is right for you is not necessarily right for me, and vice-versa.

 Which brings me back to the Frankl quote above. I believe G-d has a different path for everyone to find meaning in his or her life. Some have even interpreted Pru U’rvoo to mean to be fruitful in your good deeds. Not everyone will get married, not everyone will have children. True fulfillment in life is what you make of it.

 I cannot wait until the day comes when I do not have to be ashamed of my doubts, the day when I don’t have to live under the weight of the assumption that inevitably I will have kids one day. I hope that this article will enlighten our community to the fact that women can, should and do WANT to be part of an Orthodoxy where their G-d given talents are expressed both within their home and out, both when single and married, and with children or without. If we don’t support each other, who will? If not for our sake, than for our daughters and the future generations of the Jewish people, both religious and not. And that is what I’ve learned from my Non-Pregnancy Project.