Silencing the Bells

Hi friends, I’m back!

It’s been a busy few weeks, with four little ones home between camp and school on top of high-pressure deadlines at work. Basically, the kind of situation that calls for the blog to take a back seat.

As for now, we are back in business.

When I began this project, I put together an outline of the ideas I planned to explore, with G-d’s help. It contains approximately ten different topics based on ideas brought up in the Rebbe’s talks about having children.

So far, the ideas we’ve covered are all from the first. So if you thought we had covered a lot of ground, well, there are nine more topics to go.

But before we go on with our philosophical discussions, I want to share with you the effect that this project so far – just chapter one – has had on my personal family life.

A Peek into my Home

One of the ideas behind Chassidic thought is that understanding the meaning of something you do greatly affects the way you do it.

Let me illustrate this for you.

You see, I am a multi-tasker – like most women I know, actually. Between running a household of six, caring for my kids, plus working my part-time job, there’s never a moment when there aren’t five things begging to be done.

Of course, this can be stressful, and often I find myself struggling to work out how I will ever complete my work hours for the day, get supper up, fold the laundry that’s waiting, and straighten the house before my kids come home. And it’s always then that the baby starts crying. Again.

That is the decisive moment.

The bells are ringing in the back of my head, each one announcing a different task that must be done ASAP… and the cries of the baby are ringing from his bed upstairs.

Of course, the baby is going to win.

The question is, what will be the price of that victory?

The bells are unforgiving, increasing in strength with every moment that passes. Who does this child think he is? They shout as I march up the steps. As I lift him from his bed, his cries hardly letting up, they press on, you’ll never get anything done this way!

Finally, he gets his milk, and he is quiet, but the bells have barely begun. All day: baby, baby, baby! There’s got to be a limit! You have so much to do right now! And the list of tasks runs through my head once again, the clock ticking and my nerves getting tighter and tighter.

Eventually, the baby settles, and I hastily carry on with my day. Always too soon, the older ones are home, and it’s a race to get them fed, bathed, and in bed, so I can get back to the things that need to be done.

As you can imagine, as I collapse into bed at the end of the day I am completely exhausted. And the knowledge that I am likely to be awoken from my sleep at least three times before morning, from one or more of the little souls down the hall, is hardly encouraging.

What a way to live.

What can I say? That’s just how it is. Raising children is no small walk in the park. They keep you busy.

But the Blog has Changed Things…

Actually, the situation hasn’t changed. There’s still a million things to do always, and it’s still a struggle getting it done. And the baby still gets involved at the busiest times.

But what has changed are the bells.

As I’ve worked on this blog, thinking, writing, and searching my soul, I’ve obviously been thinking about my children more. But for a change, it’s not about how much they need from me and all that I’m doing (or not doing!) because of them. Now, I’ve been thinking about what it means for me to truly care for them.

I’ve been thinking about how each of them is not merely a kid, but a real person with a life ahead of them. Only now they are in a smaller, impressionable form, so I am able to teach them as they grow.

I think about how raising my children with love will likely be the greatest accomplishment of my life. That raising a family is our foremost mandate as a Jewish couple.

And I’ve come to the realization that all those other tasks, those important things that fill the rest of my time, are essentially irrelevant in that context.

Now, at that moment when my baby calls, I force the bells into silence. They are lowly housekeepers, and I am dealing with my prince. Their voices do not belong.

Instead, I take a deep breath, and settle my lips into a little smile as I climb the stairs to my child’s room. (It’s a trick I’ve learned that works wonders at times of high stress.) I’m coming, my baby, I call. I take him into my arms, look into his eyes, and let my heart listen. Right now, he is the only thing that exists. I stroke his soft skin as I feed him, change him, rock him, and allow myself to fully connect to my child – to G-d’s child whom I have been blessed with the opportunity to raise. I think about how I am the luckiest woman in the world, and that at this moment, nothing matters more.

And then, when he finally settles down for his nap – often, on the fourth try – instead of that exasperated sigh of relief, I feel a thrill of accomplishment within me. I have conquered my nature, I have subdued my urge to multi-task, be super-efficient, and knock things off my list – and my child and I have come out on top. The bells were silenced, and peace and joy has re-entered my life.

Yes there is still all that work to do, laundry to fold, mess to clean, and food to put up. But I have learned to find other solutions for that when my children need me more. It might have to happen later, perhaps I can get help, and if it’s done less than perfectly, well, so be it. Although I appreciate no food more than a delicious home-cooked meal, I have learned many forms of instant dinner, so I can be calm and available for my kids for the few hours they are home. I have learned to multi-task without compromising the care of my children, like cutting up a salad while they join me at the table, or folding laundry while they play at my feet, or helpfully (haha) hand me items from the basket.

The bells still serve me when things are quiet. But they are learning their place. And as a result, my children have gained a better, more attentive, and loving mother. I have a lighter stress load, even if it’s only in my head (and isn’t it all in our head?). We all have a happier family.

And the journey has only just begun.

I’m looking forward.