Cool Israeli Technology for Everyday Living

Israel is a high tech country. Not only because of the number of high tech companies flourishing here but also by the number of high tech applications used here as a routine part of life.

• Start with the simple stuff: texting. Almost every communication is done via SMS (short messaging service available on most phones): grandmothers chatting with their kids, music lesson scheduling, birthday party reminders, cable company announcements. In Boston only young and hip were aware of this technology on their cell phones.


• Street parking made easier. Imagine parking anywhere in Boston, pressing one button on your iPhone app to initiate the parking meter count, pressing another when you are done and paying only a $1 or $2 that will be automatically deducted from your credit card at the end of the month. Pango is a local company that provides easy and cheap paid parking interface, in agreement with the municipalities. No need for parking meters, coins or punch-cards. You register with this service once by linking your cell number to your car license plate to your payment means.  Then, just park anywhere in Israel along the designated and abundant blue and white curb and use the app to pay.  GPS on your phone automatically recognizes what town you are in and charges the amount based on the municipal rate. For example, in Tel Aviv you can park for up to 3 hours, paying 5.5 shekel per hour if you do not reside there and 0.69 shekels if you are a resident. How does parking officer know that you paid? He uses another app that connects to the main database that knows that you set your parking timer on.
  
  
  


• Smart Elevators. It is likely this technology is being used somewhere in Manhattan or Chicago skyscrapers but I have never seen this before. Button-less elevators that are guided by a central optimization technology.  Every floor has a few panels where you punch the floor number you need to go to and then the panel directs you to go to the elevator A or E or G  that soon will be going to your floor. You enter this elevator and realize that centralized elevator brain optimized waiting time, riding time, number of stops and perhaps electricity by grouping together people that go to the same floor.  My elevator stopped only on the floor 4, 10, and 11. There were no buttons inside other than emergency ones. 
  
  


• All your medical needs on one website (Maccabi). Browse doctors, schedule appointments, request referrals, review results of the tests and probably much more. The website by the way is developed by the company my brother works for - eWave - and they are starting to bring this technology to the US.


• Technology at schools. Kids and parents are encouraged to use Google Docs for collaboration. 3rd graders are preparing power point presentation. All the homework is posted online daily on the school website by kids or teachers. Exam schedule - online. There is an online class forum that kids use to ask questions and send messages to each other.


• Open Sesame parking Lots. Most of the municipal parking lots are equipped with smart technology. Cameras located somewhere near the entrance picture and character-recognize your license plate. When you press the button for an entrance parking slip, it comes printed with your car's license. When you return to pay it automatically recognizes whether you are Tel Aviv resident and eligible for a 75% parking discount. You pay, you enter your car and you notice something strange: garage gate opens before your car as soon as you approach the exit. You don't even need to insert your paid parking slip. Another camera automatically recognizes your license plate and communicated with the central system that knows you just paid.


• This is low tech but simple and useful: convenient parking for cars with strollers. Remember the blue parking spots for disabled just next to the entrance to any facility?  As we all know unloading and navigating a stroller with a baby or two (or three) in the parking lot may be as complex and dangerous as managing with a wheelchair. In the Tel Aviv's Ramat Gan Mall I noticed some convenient pink parking spots for cars with babies.

For us, newcomers, it is easy to spot such novel and cool things, things that are done differently and better than in the US. But of course there are other technology areas where Israel is lagging behind. I recently called Tel Aviv police and had to wait 3 minutes till a dispatcher answered. There was no answering signal, just the monotone rings and I was doubting that I dialed correctly. Just when I was about to hang up a woman answered and started slowly asking who am I and where I live. Only 5 minutes after I dialed we finally got to the reason of my call. Likely it wasn't an emergency.  Boston's police answers immediately, automatically recognizes who you are and where are you calling from, by the number. They will even come in 5 min if you call and hang up. They will come if you hear noises in your yard or to replace the batteries in your smoke detector in the middle of the night. They will also come to direct traffic and insure student safety at school. Hopefully, soon in Israel.

9-Months Progress and How We Got Here.

It has been almost nine months since we came to Israel and it seems that we have completely adjusted. Sometimes it even feels that we never left, while we have been away for 17 long years.  We have been perfectly comfortable in the serene Boston suburbs and now are surprised to discover that the boisterous Tel Aviv pace awakes and energizes us. We are exploring and learning: Kikar ha Tarbut (Culture square) is one of my new favorite places; Memorial and Holocaust Days - real days of mourning unlike the Memorial Day in the US. Our kids are gradually finding their circles and are getting used to the loud, rough but friendly school atmosphere.

Now it is time to reveal that I was the one who didn't want to come back. In the past few years, our life in the US settled into a comfortable and convenient routine: we loved our neighborhood, were surrounded by close friends and supporting neighbors, we figured out the schools and a bunch of extra-curricular activities combining Russian math, JCC swim team and a US lacrosse league, life-long mortgage and Caribbean vacations were all within our reach.  We had a favorite newspaper, magazine, radio station, political party that we proudly chose, restaurants, and a hardware shop.
Why trade all this for a life with a constant threat of war?
For a politics we would never support?
We loved Israel and always enjoyed our yearly visits.  I thought this was enough. Why endanger the kids in the army?  Why take away their chances of going to Ivy League universities? Why downgrade our lifestyle? Why immerse ourselves into this land of pronounced contradictions (religious-secular, Sephardic-Ashkenazi, arabs-jews, right-left, rich-poor)?

But returning from every visit to Israel we felt brokenhearted leaving behind all those people who loved us, the sunshine, sea and the happy frenzy of Israeli lifestyle.  We always had some doubts but were quickly dismissing them settling back into the sweet and calm routine. Perhaps one day when we will be very old; warm climate seems to be good for older people.  Every year a family that we knew moved back to Israel. We said farewells, observed their absorption, but never thought it will be us. To be more precise, Moshe secretly hoped that one day it will be us but I was quite certain it won't. A job offer came but we rejected it: "Not now. Life is too good to change it."

And then we started going to Bar and Bat Mitzvah parties, where families were together and shared touching stories of their past. And we thought, who from our family is going to come to our son's US Bar Mitzvah?  And then our relatives were sick and we felt guilty for not being closer to support the daily struggle. When Moshe's large and united family called on Jewish Holidays he always turned grim. But what really pushed him to tears were memories of Falafel David in Nes Ziona and the songs of Ehud Banai. And then another job offer came and we realized that it is now or never. And we decided to take a chance. Kids, born in the US, were not happy.  We were taking them away from everything their world was: life-long friends, house, sports, language. We were trying to soften the shock by saying that we can always come back if things don't work out.

The first 6 months were not simple. The relocation in the midst of the August heat was sticky and bureaucratically painful. Kids adjustment in school was heart-breaking.  They were coming home and seeking silence, crying for their US friends. They kept saying that they will run back to the US as soon as they reach an independent age. External and internal political news were very saddening. I had my own crisis one hot September morning (Friday) in the Rami Levi discount supermarket. More than once Moshe was very close to giving up while dealing with bureaucracy, broken air conditioners or broken promises. But the sunshine helped us smile and friends and family's support balanced the external troubles.

We slowly discovered our neighborhood - welcoming people, small food shop, great fruits and vegetable store, hair salon, private pharmacy, a wonderful park. Things that we started calling home now.

10 things we miss most about US

I hear that some of you started packing your bags to come here after reading my previous post about 10 things we really like in Israel.  It is indeed a fascinating country that is also very pleasant for a visit or stay. So, please come!

However, I am trying to paint an honest picture of our adventurous immigration.  With the excitement of the new life there is obviously a nostalgia for the old one. Here are 10 things that we miss most about US right now, six months after the move.

1. Friends. We all try to stay in touch via email, skype and phone but with a 7-hour difference and a shifted weekend (Friday-Saturday in Israel and Saturday-Sunday in the US) is it hard.  New friendships are slow to appear. People are warm and welcoming. However, here in Israel everyone is surrounded by a large and a tight family circle. Then, there are friends one grew up with - school, army, university. Who needs additional friendships when the weekends are so short? We were surprised to find that most people around are not interested to cross the boundary between acquaintanceship and friendship.
   
   
2. Boston's sports frenzy.  We still are part of the Patriots, Red Sox, Bruins and Celtics Nation. We feel the pain of the Patriot's Super Bowl loss but have no shoulder to cry it on. We watch games deep into the night, wear T-shirts, read Boston Globe and pack our emotions into emails to our Bostonian friends.   Israeli sports scene is also contentious and engaging but it will probably take us years to get hooked.  
   
   
   2011 Bruins' victory
3. Naor misses winter, especially the sunny Boston snow days when he could play outside with the friends bundled in a snowsuit building snow forts, fighting snowballs, sledding from the high-school slopes. 
   
   
4. Kids miss quiet and discipline at school and frequently come home tired from the noise. Large classes (27-40 kids) and non-strict rules lead to teachers spending 1/3 of the lesson time screaming for silence. Yes, screaming for silence...
5. We (parents) miss longer school day and more homework.
6. Not worrying for our survival. In the US you worry about keeping your job, lose your sleep thinking about your mortgage, or stress over saving enough for summer vacation, afterschool activities or college. All these worries are valid here as well, but can be obscured by a helpless worry of a potential war. Is Israel serious about bombing Iran? Is Iran serious about sending rockets to Tel Aviv? Where will these rockets fall? Unfortunately, the only things we can do is finding where the nearest bomb shelter is and ordering gas masks from the town hall. Fortunately, we are slowly getting used to living in uncertainty and this doesn't affect our daily mood.
   
   Gas masks for adult, youth and baby...
7. Better hospital conditions. While the professionalism of doctors and nurses is comparable with the US, the luck of resources in government-ran socialistic medicine is felt everywhere - number of people per hospital room, ratio of patients per nurse and therefore attention that every patient gets, hospital food and equipment. 
8. Trader Joe's - there is nothing like it in Israel. I believe that Trader Joe's is the working parents' friend allowing to spend minimum time serving delicious, rather healthy, not expensive, kids-friendly and interesting meals.   Without it I find myself constantly busy with feeding a picky family of five from raw ingredients.
9. Variety and simplicity of online shopping. In the recent years in Boston I almost stopped going to stores altogether (except Marshalls, TJMax and Filene's Basement). Why spend 60+ min driving, parking and browsing through Toys-R-Us, Mac Cosmetics, or West Elm when you can order anything online in 5 mins? Surprisingly in such high-tech country like Israel online shopping is in the embryonic stage. Every little purchase is an hour-long project.  One of the problems is that postal workers do not come with a car and do not carry any packages. There is also a heavy taxation on the US-ordered stuff. 
10. US Holiday Spirit. We did try celebrating Thanksgiving this year. Since no one in Israel is usually buying a whole giant turkey,  I had to order it from a supermarket a few days in advance. The turkey did not look at all like a fat American bird, it was an anorexic dead creature with a long neck. My husband's mistake of asking the butcher to remove the bird's skin turned it into a horror picture. We did cook it and ate it but I am still asking turkey's forgiveness for these deeds.  Move here did earn us Jewish holidays with the family that we have been longing for for so many years. But we still miss the other holidays - the sweet anticipation of Halloween, Thanksgiving flavours, the Christmas cheer on the streets and shops, an Independence Day with a parade, 5K run and fireworks in our town. These are part of the traditions our kids were born into and we all enjoyed for so many years.  
    

10 things we like in Israel (more than in the US)

1. Food. As everywhere around the Mediterranean, food  in Israel is a top priority and investment. It is elaborate, flavorful, and usually spicy. It is also pretty much the only thing that unite everyone in the region: Arabs, Jews, Christians, Druzes; secular and religious people; political right and political left.
   
   
   
   
   
2. Friday rituals. For the secular crowds in Israel, Friday became a sacred day, much more special than Shabbat.  Most of the adults do not work.  Kids are in schools or day-care till around noon. The adults enjoy these few hours of freedom by relaxing in coffee shops with partners or friends, then stopping at the neighborhood markets to buy Shabat hallah, weekend newspaper, flowers, pastry and other last-minute food.
   
   
   
   
   
   
   The majority of shopping is usually done in advance. Then, there is cooking for expansive Shabat dinner or anticipation of going over to the parents' house, Galei  Zahal radio in the background. Those who do not cook, enjoy a sweet rest in the afternoon. And at night, everyone puts on festive clothes and goes over to meet the rest of their families for large, noisy, late and delicious dinner. For young adults this all is just an prelude to continuing the night by going out with their friends. They get back home only around 2-4am and sleep till noon on Shabbat.
3. Public display of affection.  Parents are openly "devouring" they kids on the school steps or playgrounds, while kids comfortably enjoy it and giggle. Relatives express love for each other openly in person or on the phone. Even our kids started saying "I love you" to us a few times daily. Adult men can greet each other with a kiss without any embarrassment. Lovers behave like there is no one around, sparking the air with affection and sexuality.
   
   
   
   Image from Flickr, distributed under CCL.
4. Warm clean sea and fantastic beaches. 
5. Passion for life. It may be the warm and passionate Mediterranean blood, an antidote to the daily political stress, or something else, but Israelis live to the fullest.  Even on the weekdays, even those with kids, all eat, drink, laugh and party till late. Fun opportunities are never missed for the sake of sleep. Tel Aviv is rightly advertises itself as a city that never stops.
6. Flower bloom instead of snowstorms in February.
   
   
   
   Image from Flickr, distributed under CCL.
7. Relationships: warmth, hospitality and easy-going. Anyone and anywhere you are visiting, you can expert to be seated and fed anything from a coffee-and-cake to a full meal. If you run out of eggs, salt or sugar - feel free to knock on your neighbors door. Pregnant or visibly sick, everyone - garbage men, market sellers, bank employees, or supermarket bag packer - will be wishing you a safe and healthy delivery and a quick recovery.
8. Strong women. They work (even with 3-5 kids), they manage kids-school-babysitter-activities logistics, they cook (very well), they do most of the housework, they dress well and look great, and they mostly spoil their husbands. They are smart and opinionated leaders.
9. Playground gyms - sportex.  Someone somewhere got an ingenious idea that in a country like Israel with mostly sunny and warm weather gyms should not necessarily be indoors. Now you can find adult gym equipment corners in every park. Why not build some strength,  while your kids are playing at the playground?   Why not work on the muscles after finishing your morning jog or on the way to work?
   
   
   
10. Abundance of exotic fruits and vegetables. Brown tomatoes, spherical zucchini, sabres, papaya, kiwi,  guava, anona, persimmon, pomelo etc. And if you, like me, do not know what to do with them, any shop seller or fellow shoppers will gladly offer you a few recipe suggestions.
    
    
    
    
    
    Image from Flickr, distributed under CCL.

Next to come - 10 things we miss most about US

Motorcycles Are Everywhere

Yesterday I was in a minor car accident.  A taxi I was in had to cut sharply to the right lane to avoid crashing into a car that carelessly switched into our lane from the left. Just as I was about to compliment the taxi driver on her great reaction, we saw a black shadow on the right, heard a boom and saw our broken right rear-view mirror.  The motorcycle that crushed into us was on the asphalt behind us and in the darkness of the winter evening it was impossible to see whether the rider was moving at all. Another car stopped, and driver in a high heel boots rushed to assist the motorcyclist across few lanes of a heavy traffic. In a minute or two he stood up, walked a few steps and ensured everyone that he and the motorcycle are perfectly fine. Some plastic did fly off from his motorcycle but it appeared to be fully functional.  My driver and the motorcyclist exchanged the insurance information and separated in a friendly way.

Such accidents seem impossible to avoid in Israel.  Cars are driving almost glued to each other, with only a foot distance in-between. In such proximity, any impulsive change of speed or direction by one driver immediately affects every car around. And of course there are motorcycles. At any given moment you can spot ten of them on the road around you. Because they are cheaper while cars and gas are tremendously expensive in Israel. Because, like in Manhattan, parking is expensive and impossible in most of the main Israeli cities. And because you can get anywhere much faster on a motorcycle. They are allowed to sneak in-between the cars standing at traffic-lights or moving on a freeway.  You should always be ready for  motorcycles swooshing by your car on the left or right, or both sides simultaneously, like fighter jets. As much as I hate this slogan, I am constantly pronouncing it in my head here in Israel - Motorcycles are everywhere!

And you can spot anyone on a motorcycle or a scooter: pizza or flower delivery man, business woman in a skirt and high-heels, a man with an 8-year-old child behind him, a very big person, a student with a dog, religious person with tziziot waving behind him, or someone wearing only a bathing suit and a helmet. I really wanted to create a collection of snapshots of colorful Israeli motorcyclists, but this would require spending a day at the main intersection and with a small baby at home it is impossible.

Parking is another interesting topic. All Israeli drivers are experts at squeezing their cars in the smallest possible space from any potential direction. And they manage to do this in the shortest amount of time.  Just imagine yourself doing parallel parking on a one-lane street when tens of drivers are beeping to hurry you and motorcycles are sneaking from all directions. You have to be fast.

Such tight parking and many bumper accidents explain why the majority of cars have small dents or color scratches. It is almost impossible to get in or out of a parking spot in Tel Aviv without kissing the butt of the car in front of you or the face of a car behind you.

I was at the doctor's office recently and when I came out I saw that my giant Toyota Sienna parked along a curb is bordered (front and back) by two parked cars with a 10cm (~4") distance to each.  Sienna is long and wide and I didn't believe I could get out from this accidental trap. I tried looking for the owners of the culprit cars, honking to get their attention but no one appeared. Two young rough-looking  men in their car drove by looking at me with pity and one showed with his finger around his head agreeing with me that the driver that came last and blocked me must be a koo-koo. I wasn't sure what to do. Can the police help? How long will it take? A few minutes later I saw the same guys in a car driving toward me again. They must have circled the neighborhood.  To be honest, I got a bit scared... The street was completely empty aside from me and them. I contemplated whether I should get inside my car. When they approached, one of them got out and offered to navigate me out of this trap. He ensured me that with his help my car should be capable of getting out with only touches to the other cars' bumpers. True to his words I was free in a few minutes after a number of back-and-forth maneuvers. I wondered if this may ever happen  in the US where these strangers would likely be in a rush or afraid to help me and be accused by the surrounding car owners. In Boston I had been stuck in my cars a number of times, occasionally with little kids in the back seat. Few people stopped to help each time, but all of them were our friends from school or day care. Strangers had never offered any assistance. And thinking of it, neither did I.

4 months progress

A few weeks ago the kids stopped saying their heart-breaking "When we go back to America" sentences:
"When we go back, can we live in the same town we used to live?"
"When we go back, can we go to the same school?"

They are doing well and feeling much more confident in school, and finally are able to navigate through the not-so-consistent class schedule and homework assignments. New for us all - homework, exam schedule and all the updates are posted on a school website for which each kid has a login. It took a few months for our 8-year-old to figure out how it all works and now she finally feels secure and proudly independent.

We can spot some buds of close friendships that kids begin to develop here, but the nostalgia for their friends and life that they had left in the US is still strong and painful.  It seems that the older the child the more difficult it is to penetrate the already established circle of friendships at school because class lists are kept the same from year to year.  The older the child, the more of a language depth and common experiences he needs to establish strong friendships.  In Boston, so much of the boy activities centered around playing or talking about sports - Patriots, Celtics, Red Sox.  The language of sport is rather different here.

A major source of happiness for the kids was discovery of  American-style bagels, Philadelphia cream cheese and Wacky Mac&Cheese in a local supermarket.  Now the kids miss only their US friends.

While our parents visited us in the US yearly, the kids never had strong connections with them because of the short visit time, impatience in overcoming the language barrier and busy schedules. Now, partially due to the lack of local friends and partially due to kids' growing confidence in Hebrew, the grandparents and the kids are re-discover each other. First time I see our kids voluntarily call their grandparents and request their visits. The kids genially enjoy grandparents' company - playing games, talking, traveling, eating together.  And from the grandparents side it is no longer just hugs and kisses (from the Sephardic side of the family) and critique of kids manners and behavior (from the Ashkenazi, Russian, side) that we witnessed during their US visits; there is a real connection and understanding of kids' worlds.

I fill silly to admit that I was and am no longer alarmed by every ambulance siren and do not rush to check the news asap, imagining a terrorist attack somewhere nearby.  I am finally ready to explore a crowded open street market or a shopping mall without major safety hesitations. Here is a savory meal that I split with my sister-in-law at a Turkish cafe in a vibrant Carmel Market.

We enjoy daily sunshine, warmth and colorful year-around blossoms. In the last months in our Boston suburb, waking up in a quiet of a morning with birds chirping, I thought that we will never be able to enjoy the same in Israel.  It is true that the central part of Israel is much more crowded and you are more likely to hear your neighbors' whereabouts than birds' songs. But here we are, in Tel Aviv, waking up with a bird chirping and the birds are no less beautiful than in Boston.

New baby: here vs there

Baby-girl Nili was born on November 2nd in the Ihilov Hospital in TelAviv, a few days ahead of the scheduled C-section.

First, there was her name selection, and it was not easy. Feeling loyal to all the cultures and languages we come from and speak, we wanted a Hebrew name that sounds pleasant in English and Russian. Moshe and the kids insisted on the name to start with "N" like Naor and Nadia. Kids didn't want the name to remind them of anyone they don't like. Grandparents had to approve the name. And with a short last name like ours we needed the first name to have at least two syllables. The beautiful Hebrew name "Noga" was out of the question because Noga with emphasis on "a" means a leg in Russian. Another name we really liked - Naomi - was ruled out as it is pronounced with a different emphasis in English and Hebrew and we decided to spare the correction work from our daughter. You see, it is miracle we came up with a name at all and managed to maintain peace in the family.

Second, there was delivery. Ihilov hospital is one of the largest hospitals in Israel, it does 11,000 births each year. Exactly like with our American-born kids, Nili decided to break the waters a few days of the scheduled C-section. The admittance and surgery went quite similarly to the US hospitals. However, the majority of the doctors were men while in the Brigham and Mt Auburn hospitals in Boston they were women. I felt like a raw chicken spread on a small cutting board. The only thing that kept my dignity was the professional pedicure and manicure that I managed to squeeze the day before.

The baby was doing great and well-taken care off. But my post-operation recovery was difficult. While in the US we got spoiled with a private patient rooms featuring big bed for the patient, convertible chair-couch for the partner, flat screen TV on the wall, food service delivered to your bed, nurses and doctors visiting every few hours and over-medication for pain, Israeli hospital offered nothing close. A few hours after the surgery I was wheeled into a tiny room that already had two miserable patients. When Moshe complained, nurse offered to place my bed in the hallway. The room didn't have any place to bring baby bassinet so I couldn't see our daughter before I could walk all the way to the newborn room (15 hours after the surgery). I had to take some medicine with the food but had nowhere to place a plate of food other than on my freshly sewed belly. Moshe ended up going to work because while I was under morphine and happy with anything, he was awake for over 30 hours, exhausted, angry and only had two-by-two foot of space to stand next to me while other patients squeezed by in the universally terrible flower gowns.


Looking back at the whole hospital experience I realize that in Israel the whole birth recovery is centered only around a child while in the US it is a mom and a child. An obstetrician in the hospital told me that in Israel we do not treat childbirth as a sickness and therefore do not wrap moms with as much care as the newborns that are still unprepared for this life. I wonder if she knew that US insurance companies indeed classify childbirth as a long-term disability.

The kids are all right, the moms are not. Newborns get brand names: Pumpers and Huggies diapers, wipes and Dr Fisher creams while moms are offered only the cheapest pads. And moms are the ones who bleed. Baby nurses are patient, polite and cheerful. Moms' nurses are tired, angry and rough. On the 3rd day my daughter asked to look at my C-section cut and we were both shocked to realize that I have staples. How come no one mentioned this to me before?

It seems that in the US there is a trend toward overmedication for the mom. I was advised to take Percocet and, if I recollect well, up to 4 Tyleonols every 4 hours. Doctor explained to me that recovery after a C-section is difficult and I should use painkillers to make myself comfortable so that I can concentrate on the baby and breastfeeding. In Israel doctors refused to give me Percocet and anything stronger than 1 gram of Optalgin, for which I had to walk all the way to the nursery and beg for every 4 hours. By the way, Optalgin, which is so popular here, is apparently not approved by the FDA due to some potential side-effects.

Throughout my stay in the Ihilov hospital I felt that I am under-performing according to doctors and nurses expectations: feeling weak, not recovering fast enough, complaining about the pain, forgetting to clean the cut. Not tough enough for this culture. Post-surgery time is never easy, but somehow in the US I was treated as a super star that accomplished something - created a new life and deserve a good rest, assistance in walking, bathing, food delivered to the bed and medical care. This whole experience reminded me of the opinion my daughter offers when someone asks her to compare school in Israel to the schools in the US. She answers: "In the US we were treated as kids. Here they treat us like adults - the tone of voice, the demands, the language." Perhaps we were spoiled in the US and here Israeli reality managed to create tougher human beings who in childhood do not cry in response to a strict teacher's voice and as adults can dismiss the pain even in a weak and sleepless state.

Lastly, there was a sweet homecoming. Baby Nili got 3 pages worth of instructions on how to be taken care of, I got 3 lines. No instructions on when I can drive, have sex, exercise, stop bleeding, expect to be done with the pain. But we were finally home, surrounded by love and support of our families and friends. Kids made fliers and inflated balloons, the house was full of flowers and presents. Naor was the first to announce on the internet that he got a cute little sister. He also surprised us by voluntarily  lowering the volume of a football game when Nili was in his lap. Nadia told me: "Mommy, thank you for making something so beautiful." However, both of them also complained that their lives got more hectic with the new creature, all her equipment and grandparents in the house.


My mom did come to help us in the US for a few weeks when each of the older kids was born, but now it was very different. We were wrapped in family help from all the sides. Grandmothers brought us loads of food and help with laundry; relatives took turn driving Naor to swim practices while I still couldn't drive; my father moved to stay with us and cuddles Nili while I am catching up on sleep or trying to keep up with all the errands; he built us a co-sleeper and taught us all funny card games that we all play into the night laughing so hard that my staples almost burst. There is always someone who takes kids to school and picks them up. There are piles of baby clothes and baby equipment from our siblings, and advices on how to clean her tush and eyes, whether I should take some Iron supplement or chicken liver. We are happy and relaxed. We are at home.