The Challah Experiment

One of the things that frustrate me to no end is that my boys do not like baking. I mean they will eat cake, especially if said cake has any form of chocolate in it, and they will criticise the cake and the baker as if they are tiny Paul Hollywoods gone rogue, but they don't like the actual baking. Everywhere I look there are people whose kids absolutely adore helping them in the kitchen, people who regard baking with kids as a half-term activity, people who invent recipes with their kids. Baking, all the parenting sites say, is a great way to connect with your children. In theory at least. Apparently my kids didn't read those sites as their reaction when I even start saying "do you want to help me...." is to run away screaming. No, they would not like to help me. They would rather do anything else. They would rather tidy up their room, do the laundry, read a book, everything but bake.

For someone whose life revolves around baking, that is quite frustrating. And embarrassing. Of course I know why they don't like baking (and mainly baking with me), it is a lethal combination of Yon's fear of getting dirty, Ron's inability to accept deviations from the written recipes and my need for perfection. Add to that the fact that we constantly quarrel for control, and the only recipe you get is for disaster.

But I couldn't let it go because baking is such an important part of life -  it is the perfect combination between science and art, it is a place to work on so many of their issues and it's a great way for them to impress girls in the future.
And even that is not why I decided to bake with them.
It was because I found it inconceivable that they don't know how to bake a Challah. We Jewish people take our Fridays very seriously, and a big part of a Friday is the special-family-evening-meal, which the Challah is a big part of. For Jewish people braiding a Challah is basic, it is something you learn in nursery, when every Friday the nursery teacher makes the dough and all the kids braid their own little challahs. Well, at least that is how it was in the olden days. Ron never baked a Challah in his Israeli kindergarten days, but hey, why should I let reality interfere with my nostalgia and the fear that I am raising the boys to have no roots and no connection to their traditions?

You could argue that there are more important traditions the boys are missing out on, and you could definitely argue that teaching two baking-haters the secret of a good Challah isn't going to make them like their religion and roots more. But it was Friday, and I am not really good at listening, so Challah baking it was.
I've decided to go the extra mile (I don't do simple) and found a recipe that doesn't need eggs so I could divide everything to three and have them not only braid the Challah but make the whole thing themselves, because it will be more fun (?!) and it will let them experience for themselves the magic of baking. You know, that moment when your gooey blob becomes dough. I did not account for the fear of dirt, or the whining, or the constant comparisons.

I have to give it to them, though, they did try. They enjoyed helping me measure the materials (after I explained to Ron that we will not be following the recipe exactly), Ron did rather well with kneading (though Yon didn't touch it and Hidai did that part for him), we all had the "ahhhh moment" when the blob became dough, they understood the basic of braiding (surprisingly enough Yon more than Ron) and we only had one incident involving tears.

But without a doubt the best part was the decorating. In a brave and tradition-shattering move, I've decided to forgo the classic Challah decoration - sesame, poppy, or almonds - and go for the kids friendly - chocolate chips, candied nuts, and pearl sugar. Best decision of the day, and the only part I can say without hesitation both of them loved.
That and seeing their creations come out of the oven.

A few months ago I wrote a post about how life is like baking, about how sometimes you need something to remind you of who you are. Me, I could always find myself in baking.
My boys, though they did enjoy themselves and proudly showed everyone their baking-creations, grow up in a different world, with a different sense of self and different things to ground them. Traditions are a funny things, they are very easy to create and very hard to force. I can't make my kids  bake with me every Friday because this is the tradition I imagine I would like to have, or because it will ease my guilt. Though my Challah experiment was a success (or so Hidai informed me. I finished it with a headache and no ability to think straight) I have to let them grow up in the here and now, and enjoy the traditions we create together.
And honestly, once was enough.

The recipe I used is (link is to the Hebrew original) -
1 kg flour (I used strong white)
2 Spoons of dried yeast
150 gr caster sugar (the recipe itself says less. A lot less, but I like it sweet)
3/4 cup oil
2 glasses of lukewarm water
1Spoon salt
Put everything together (I like to put it all except salt, knead a little and then add the salt) knead well for about 10 minutes until you get a nice, soft, non-sticky dough (we did it by hand, but obviously you can use a machine), oil it well and let it prove until it double it size (around 1-2 hours). Then deflate it, knead for a little and start making rolls.
Put the rolls very speciously on a baking tray lined with baking-paper, and prove for about 30 minutes. After the second proving, heat the oven to 180 degrees and beat one egg. Brush the egg on the rolls and throw on the toppings.
Bake for about 25 minutes until they are golden brown and when you tap on the bottom (caution - it's hot) you hear a hollow sound.
Let it cool, because you never eat bread straight out of the oven.

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Food for March

I know it doesn't look like it when you look out the window, but the calendar can't be wrong. It's March. I have spent the last weekend congratulating myself on surviving another UK winter, right before Monday arrived and I went to pick my boys up from school and promptly got caught in the biggest hailstorm we had all winter on the one day we were supposed to go check out some houses for our "how does it feel to live in a proper house" research project instead of going straight home. But if you ignore this freak-storm that lasted exactly from five minutes after I left home to five minutes before I got back, as most storms tend to do, you could look around and quietly whisper - it's beginning to look a lot like spring.

Trying to get out of school

And do you know what spring brings with it, other than flowers and sunshine and smiles? Food. Spring is, without a doubt, the season to be eating. It raises two problems - the first being that I still have 3 kilos to lose because unfortunately February was less than a stellar month in all areas of life, so it will come as no surprise to learn that what I thought of as a less than ambitious target of loosing 8 kilos and exercising 4 times a week was in fact too ambitious. The other problem is that spring is what comes before summer. And summer is the season to be showing off your diet's results. Well, the solution here is easy and clear to all - we live in the UK, we can always wear a coat under the pretence that "a summer coat is so in this year". And until we move to the suburbs were people actually have dress codes (or so I hear), we can always wear whatever we want under the label of eccentric rather then just plain weird.

Truth is I planned to get right back on the diet-horse on Monday, it's just that I didn't have a set Monday in mind and so I found myself last Wednesday when it became apparent that Monday has already passed, making an apple crumble. Apple crumble is the best cake ever, because it's a guilt free cake - after all, it is mostly apples. If you just ignore the sugar, flour and butter of course. But why would we want to be so petty? But then came the text message from school - we have moved year 4's cake sell to this Friday. Please bring your cakes on Friday morning. Ha, I thought to myself, here is my chance to get out of making a cake for school. I hate doing anything just because I have to, and baking is no different, but Ron looked at me like I ran over his puppy and told me he promised the whole school I will bake them cupcakes. 

I tried explaining that I don't have time on Thursday, I tried explaining that I don't have the ingredients needed for 40 cupcakes just lying around the house, I tried blaming it on the school. We all know what happened next don't we? I got him to compromise on a cake. Now that raised another dilemma - if you bake a chocolate cake for school, are you supposed to not bake one for yourself too? After all, how will you know if it's any good? And also it was my mum's birthday on Sunday (happy birthday mum!). And the fact that we live in different countries should not mean we don't deserve to enjoy some birthday cake. Yes, I baked two chocolate cakes, with chocolate icing, and sprinkles on top. 

It was the best decision ever, as I don't even dare trying to buy anything in the school bake sale with all the people fighting there for every cake, and Yon, who lives for chocolate cake, was devastated when he discovered that the cake is going to school and not all intended for him to eat.

Apparently, and not that I'm bragging or anything, my cake was the first one sold out, and it went for the highest price per slice :)

Cakes on their way to school

But that is not enough, because on Friday I decided it is high time to get some Jewish food supplies. I go to Golders Green about every three months to get some real hummus, pittas (don't get me started on what goes for pitta bread around here), wine and sweets. So we had more cakes. With chocolate. I am just thankful that Yon is even a bigger chocolate crazy than me. Makes me look so much saner when he runs around the house yelling "chocolate. My precious..."  (he does an excellent Gollum). 

Yon really likes pancakes

And then somehow we got to today, Tuesday, and though I told myself again, that I will get back on the diet-horse on Monday, we somehow stumbled upon Pancake Day. And you know I am not one to give up a good excuse to celebrate a holiday, regardless of its relation to me, if it has good food. Right after Pancake Day we have Purim, which you don't know about unless you are Jewish and why would you want to be Jewish? There really aren't a lot of reasons, but Purim is the main one. It is, after all, the candy holiday. Very diet fitting.

Purim food

After that Ron and I always celebrate St. Patrick's Day, for one reason alone - we get to eat mint-chocolate. Hidai doesn't like it and he always looks at us funny when we eat it, so I don't get to eat it a lot. Why on St. Patrick's Day you ask? The answer should be obvious really, because it has a green wrapping of course. And green is the colour of St. Patrick's Day. I expected you to know that.

That is followed by Mother's Day, or as I like to call it - Only Mummy Gets The Good Chocolate Day. After all, nothing says we love you mummy more than not eating my fancy chocolate, right?

Is it flowers or is it really.... You guessed it ;)

Hey, it's not my fault. I wanted to diet, I wanted to exercise. It's not my fault I opened the mailbox and discovered a box of chocolate from Hotel Chocolate last week.

At that point I decided to look at it as fate's way of saying - lose the diet, embrace the spring!

I hope you enjoyed reading the post :) I would really appreciate two minutes of your time and a vote for Best Writer (and best blog if you are so inclined) at the MAD blog awards -
Just press the photo and copy in my URL - http://londondegani.blogspot.co.uk
Thank you very much!

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Baking and autumn hope

Not all those who wander are lost. I've been thinking about this phrase a lot this last couple of weeks. Maybe because I feel I am. Lost, that is. I have been feeling low and unwell and lost for the past couple of weeks. I've tried writing positive things in hopes that it will cheer me up but I am not a cheerful-inspirational kind of person so unfortunately it did not work as planned and I got some not-so-nice reactions which left me feeling even more low, and questioning the whole blogging thing. I felt my blog (or maybe it's me) is going nowhere or maybe backwards as everyone around me is moving forward. So I tried taking a few days off and hide from the rest of the world - no twitter, no facebook, no contact with anyone. But that just made me feel even worse, as I watched one episode after another of TV shows where everything gets better in just 45 minutes, while I had too much time to think and not like where all my thoughts were taking me. So I tried to take all the anti-flu medications I could find in my medicine-drawer (and believe you me, there are a lot of them there) because according to other people (Hidai) when I'm sick I get depressed. You know how it is that you can look at your child and your first thought is "I think he is coming down with something"? With my kids it's eating. The minute they eat less is the minute you know they are coming down with the flu. For me it's the doom & gloom. When you start hearing me talk about how my life is ruined and it will never get better, that's your sign to give me a couple of Lemsips and send me to bed (and not talk to me, unless you want to hear how miserable my life has been since the moment I was born). All those pills did help a bit, but I have been left in this not-really-sick-not-really-healthy kind of thing, which left me in a place where I can laugh at my gloom & doom but I still feel it creeping back up.

So when hiding, self-medicating and feeling sorry for myself didn't help and everything did look like it will never get any better, I took solace in the fact that everyone around me seemed as miserable as I am. Everywhere I went, every blog I read, every person I talked to said the same thing - November isn't a good month. It's not its fault, I guess, that there is nothing very comforting or nice about it - the weather gets colder, the days get shorter, the gloom is everywhere. Christmas is still too far away to get into the spirit, and it all seems kind of hopeless. I went back to check (se easy to do when you have a blog where your life is just spread out) and last year was exactly the same. November was not a good month.
I guess there is something comforting about this consistency. It's like the tide. But not while you are in the middle of it. Not while you are bust constantly looking around and seeing the should-haves, the could-haves the why-didn't-I. Not in the moments where hope seems like your worst enemy and not what helps you get up in the morning.

But then hope doesn't ask you when to show up does it? On Friday Ron & I watched the last of the Bake Off Masterclass shows, and after I explained to him that a. real baking is not as easy as watching Paul & Merry on TV, and b. baking is part science and part art, Ron decided to learn how to bake. I didn't take him seriously because, well, because none of my boys has ever showed any interest in baking apart from the eating part of it. But as it turned out he was serious, and that is how on Sunday morning I found myself explaining the basic of baking to an 8 years old, and letting him bake his first cake all by himself.

I don't get a lot of shared activities with my kids, I mean ones I also enjoy. I have always been secretly jealous of those parents whose kids enjoy baking, or shopping, or making jewellery, while I had to learn all about football. And zoo animals. I hate animals, and all things sports. But I love my kids, so I can tell you everything you didn't want to know about the English Premier League, and the London zoo. Baking has always been my thing, and being able to share it with Ron was a wonderful experience both for me and for him, one I resigned myself to thinking will never happen.

I chose a simple old fashion coffee cake for him to try out from a children's baking book I bought years ago when I was under the impression that my kids will for sure be into baking. First thing I learned is - I need a new children's book. Preferably a British one. But after Ron and I overcame the fact that the ingredients we had at home were a little different than the ones in the recipe (I told him I will teach him only if he won't complain when I change ingredients or quantities), I overcame my need to have everything done my way (also known as "the right way"), and Hidai overcame his fear of having the kitchen all messy, we were on our way to baking.

Ron did most of it by himself, from setting out the ingredients, to breaking the eggs, mixing everything, pouring the mixture and doing the dishes, with I was just standing alongside him, cheering him on (and helping with the oven). After an hour in the oven his first cake was ready and I got a moment I have long ago gave up on hoping for.

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Why life is like baking

Life is like a box of chocolates. I don't think there is anyone alive who doesn't know this phrase, and when I started to write this post this is what jumped to my mind, but the truth is (and with the risk of alienating a few of my approximately ten readers) I hated the movie, and I find this phrase insulting to all chocolate. Life really isn't anything like a box of chocolates. Mainly because chocolate is what you use to make life bearable some days, but also because unlike in life, if you just flip the box, you will know what you gonna get. You might not like what you get, but it says right there on the box which one it is. No, for me, life is like baking. Because baking is unpredictable, baking is messy, baking is where you can follow a recipe to the letter and still end up with crap. Just like life.

Box of chocolates

Baking has been my passion ever since I was very very young. Younger, I think, than is acceptable these days, and it became a very big part of me. A part where there is quiet, room to breathe, and somehow a place to dump everything else - having a bad day? Bread making that includes kneading dough by hand is a wonderful way to get over that. Depressing day? there is nothing quite like a chocolate cake. Kids making enough noise to wake the dead? Out comes the mixer. Baking grounds me, gives me a sense of home, of creation. You take some flour, sugar and eggs, and you get something wonderful that wasn't there before. Just like in writing. I guess in some regard that is why I like writing - it gives me the same sense of "hey you created something out of nothing".
Also, you are never left without an answer to the "what do you want for Christmas" question. You can always have one more gadget, or special pan, or book. I have about 36 baking books (and not even one cookbook), and that is only because last time we moved Hidai made me throw out some (some nonsense about the movers not being able to lift the boxes), and I think every baking gadget known to man (until this Christmas, when I will HAVE to have something new of course).
But like everything in life, sometimes you are lost. There are these periods where everything is just too much and too overwhelming and somewhere along the way you discover that you got lost. You no longer remember how you got here, or where you were heading. I had one of those periods just now. I wanted to say "in the last month" but it wasn't true, so I wrote "in the last couple of months" but I am not sure that one is true either. I am not sure when I started being lost, I just know that last week when I watched the Great British Bake Off (the one and only baking show the kids will watch with me. And when I say that, what I really mean is Ron & I sitting on the couch watching TV, and Yon sitting on the carpet in front of the TV "baking" with his blanket. Yes, it is crazy as it sounds) I saw them baking happily in the tent, and it hit me like a ten-ton-baking-chocolate-block - I haven't baked in a long time. Also it dawned on me that I might want to tryout for the show next year, but that's a different storyline.

Watching bake off

I baked a little before my parents came over, but did nothing since then. It had been some three weeks since I last went into my kitchen. No, it was worse than that. I got 2 new baking books from my parents when they arrived, and I haven't even looked at them. I haven't sat down and studied each recipe, imagining doing it, planning how to tweak it just a little so it will be perfect for me. I haven't even found them a proper place on the shelf.  Last week I also got new kitchen scales, from Ozeri, to try and review, which after some preliminary oooohs and ahhhs I stuck in the cupboard and ignored completely.

New scales

I opened the books immediately (the next day) to check them out, but it still took me until Sunday to actually bake, because I was ill for most of last week and because as it seems every recipe in my new book, that is actually an adaptation of olden-days recipes to modern times, needed at least 6 eggs and either one kilo of cream cheese or of double cream, ingredients that I am not so sure were that handy in the olden days, and that unless I am in the midst of a baking craze, I don't ordinarily stock in my fridge. Unlike most of everything else. I do keep a very nice stock of baking ingredients, that can (and was) comparable to that of a small bakery. What? you never know what you will want to bake just this minute. Always be prepared (and also I get regular deliveries in the form of my parents, and if I am on a diet than it accumulates).

That is how it came to be that on Sunday afternoon, after watching Arsenal win a match for a change, I got my new book and my sexy new scales and set out to bake some chocolate chips cookies. That only required 2 eggs and no cream. It is a weird experience, baking when there is a lot of people and noise around, and I really did gain a new respect to the Bake-Off contenders who has to do that every week. I know they say that baking is a science and you have to follow the recipe to the letter, but I never bake anything exactly like you're supposed to. I have to change it, and every time I do it a little different, and never write it down. Didn't I tell you it's like life? I am not good at following orders. Or straight lines.
The scales were amazing though. I mean how can you review scales? If it's human scales, than accuracy is never a good thing, and if they are kitchen ones, than you want them to be very accurate, but as I always use the very accurate measurement of "it seems right to me", than all I can say is - they look so sexy, everyone around the house thought I bought a Kindle :), they are easy to store, operate and they respond very quickly. I love them, but I'm shallow and it's mostly because they are just so damn pretty. But I digress (naturally. Has to happen at least once a post).

Baking

Going back to baking, even if it was just one batch of chocolate chips cookies, it got me thinking about how some things are more than what they are, how we need those things and those places that reminds us who we are, where we belong. It might not be the most modern thing to say, but in some regard at least I belong in my kitchen, I belong in my baking. With every cookie I made I regained a little bit of myself back.

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Weight-less or Weight-loss

This is a story I have wanted to tell for quite some time but always chose not to. I am not sure why I want to tell it, and not really sure why I didn't. It's not like you can call me shy, I tell you most of everything, but for some reason I felt I couldn't write about this.
I usually try that every post will have a purpose, at least in my mind, and this one's purpose always seems to elude me - is it a victory story? is it a moral story? is it a bragging story? or is it a shameful story and a cautionary tale? I think that it's partially all of them, but most of all, for me, it's a shameful story, because it's more about my shortcomings than my success in overcoming them. And unlike my other shortcoming, which I find endearing (and thankfully so does Hidai), this one I am ashamed of. Why? because being fat is, in our society, something to be ashamed of.
I wasn't obese, I was just fat.
I have been in a battle with my weight for a long time, in fact for as long as I can remember. I was one of those really tall-really skinny girls while growing up, until one day I wasn't anymore. I don't remember when that happened, I guess like everyone, somewhere around the teen years, when you start getting all the body issues and such. I dabbled with an eating disorder when I was about 20 (the army was not the best years of my life), and then went from being very skinny to being fat, and kind of stayed there, except for short periods of times (like just before our wedding). My weight didn't increase so much (except for pregnancies) but neither did it decrease so much. I stayed within the same 5 kilos radius for about 10 years.
But the real thing is, it didn't really bother me. I mean obviously it did, but not in a severe nerve-wracking, can't-think-of-anything-else way. Just the normal way. I had a closet full of nice designer clothes I bought over the years, I had a husband who loved me no matter what I weighed, and I was, for the most part, content with it.
Most people who are fat talk about food as obsession, and they are right. No matter what your vice is, you eat to celebrate and to mourn, when you've had a good day or a bad day, everything is a good excuse to eat. For me it's not the food. I mean I like food, but I don't love it. I am a vegetarian, I hate cooking, and I have a family of boys who doesn't care about food. I am a dessert person. I adore baking, I am addicted to chocolate, and I can and in fact do, live almost solely on sweets. Chocolate is my comfort food, my celebratory food, my I-am-working-and-can't-think-about-what-to-write food, my I-fought-with-the-kids-and-feel-horrible food, and my I-just-need-something-right-now food.
And I always just need something now.
I have, by far, the worst eating/exercise habits of everyone I know. I eat something just about every hour, I live on snacks (in fact while writing this post I had to stop four times for a banana, 3 kiwis, 3 rice cakes and coffee), I hate exercising and anyway have so many joints/back/knees problems that there are so few things I can do.
I wish I could tell you something happened and it all changed one day. I wish I could tell you I had an epiphany, or even a rude weakening. I didn't. I think it crept over me over time, my dislike of myself, my shame. It was a time in our life with so much uncertainty, so much disorder, and I needed something that was in my control. Something I could focus on and change. Something that was mine. So one morning, August 1st, 2011 to be exact, I woke up and told Hidai that that's it. And it was.
This photo is not what drove me, but it's what I use as a bench mark, it's my "before".

I signed up with Weight Watchers online, we bought a treadmill, and that was indeed it. It took me 4 months of hard work, obeying without fault the Weight Watchers regime and exercising 5 times a week (running and Pilates), until I made it to 2 kilos below my target weight.

This is the success part of my story. I lost about 13 kilos (about 2 stones), and went from being size 14-16 to size 8-10. I am almost two years after, and I am still keeping my target weight.
Oh, how I wish I could leave it here, with the success, with what you can usually see from the outside - me, thin, baking all the time and eating all that chocolate without gaining weight.
But the truth is, I can't do that, because I've already started the story so I will finish it where it really belongs - in the embarrassing facts.
They say losing the weight is the easy half of the battle, keeping it off, that's the hard part. It not true, it's just that you expect the tough part to be over one day, that all effort you put in to it, the bad days, and the cravings, they are the worst and when you finally reach that golden-coveted target weight it will be easier. It doesn't. When I just lost the weight and became skinny I had lots of compliments (some genuine and some not so much), I was able to talk about it all the time, enjoy it and the envy looks I got, explain about it. I was the one who made it. Now I am in London, where everyone who knows me, knows the "after" me, and where everyone is fit and skinny (or so it seems). Now I am just this "new me" that isn't new at all. I already said it in a different post, and I will say it again here - people don't change. I wish I could be one of those success stories that then went on and changed their way of life completely, or one of those "yes, and the minute I started exercising I got addicted to it", or at least one of those people who has self control. But I am not. I am still just the same old me. I still battle everyday with my addiction, with my bad eating habits, my need for more sugar and my lack of exercise-motivation. I am still me, and every time I have a bad day I eat chocolate, every time I relax my control I gain 2 kilos.
I live in fear that one morning I will wake up and discovered my weight increased by 13 kilos. I go on the scale 5 times a day.
It's a journey that has no end, and you want to know the saddest truth of all? I still look at the mirror and see the same woman who weighed 13 kilos more. For me, I haven't changed at all.

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Valentines, Pancakes and Sunshine

This week was such a lovely week. We had Pancake Tuesday, we had Valentine's day, we had actual Sunshine.
I will not use this post as an excuse to tell you all how wonderful Hidai is and all about our unending and undying love for each other. First of all because if you know Hidai you know that it's true. And second because he chose the day (evening) before Valentine's to pick a fight with me. And so lost the lovely and touching post I was going to write about the greatest person, husband and father I know (it doesn't matter that we made up and had a lovely Valentine's. he is still not getting his post. because I am not as good a person).
And also I kinda feel like the Valentine people are telling me what to do.
Which always goes well with me.
Lastly, because I took my anger and annoyance at Hidai out on the house, otherwise known as I cleaned the house (maybe "cleaned" is not the right word. The house was sparkling when I finished), I hurt my very temperamental wrist, and my right hand now needs to be in a splint so that I could have almost no movement, which incidentally makes typing almost impossible.
All that leads us to.... Photo posts.
By the way, English speaking people, why oh why can't I use photo and picture correctly? Why?
So, this week began with snow.
Like every good week should. It was the nicest kind of light snow that melts without really making a mess, and you get to enjoy the snow and not fall down in the street. Win-win situation.

Isn't it nice to wake-up to that on monday?

After that we had Pancake Tuesday. Well, I do know that it has actual religious meaning and it's not just the pancakes thing. But do you really see me giving up something for 40 days? The only thing I should give up is chocolate, and I have never succeeded in more than a week without it. Beside, we are only celebrating the fun parts of our own holidays, so I don't really see us going all the way with other religion's holidays. Anyway, we absolutely love pancake day around here, I mean how can you not love pancake day? It's a day that "forces" you to eat pancake. For dinner. Doesn't get any better than that, and since I mastered the three pans technique it takes me very little time to make all the pancake. It takes my boys even less time to eat them...

Yes we ate it all. And by "we" I mean Hidai

 


On wednesday Ron handed-in his Israel presentation, on which he worked really hard and for long hours and got 15 out of 15 (5 for research, 5 for quality of work and 5 for delivery). He also had an assembly about France (very sad seeing all the Eiffel Tower photos without being able to go...) in which he had 2 sentences, one of them was the opening sentence and he was very excited about it, but actually he was less terrified than at his first assembly, so I figured it means he is feeling more "at home" in school.
I represented me, Hidai and Ron's best friend's mum (who couldn't make it because of work and our school's tendency to let you know about things a day before).

The Year 3 France Model

 


Which brings us to Thursday and Valentine's day. Of course we celebrate Valentine's day. First of all because we celebrate every stray holiday, second because we have boys that we need to educate, and teach how to treat women and you know what they say - the best way to teach is through demonstration. And third, it's pink and hearts and chocolates. How can we say no to that? what are we animals? (actually, the last time I asked Yon that, he answered with a resounding "yes" so you know...). We had all the things needed for a good Valentines - a card, a good bottle of wine (Israeli wine I bought last week in Golders Green and we saved), chocolate mousse (store bought one, because I don't bake or cook on "my" holidays), and pizza (that I was disappointed to see was not shaped as a heart). Oh, and kids that were in bed on time.

 


So this is Friday, Ron had an Ice-Cream Party at school because they had 100% attendance last week, we had lovely, warm, happy sunshine (okay so the warm part was an exaggeration), kids are off school for half-term, and we have Challa for Friday night dinner, Jaffa Cakes for the kids (it's the new hit) and my new favourite thing - Pita Chips.

A sunny Yon

Yes, this is me when my hand hurts and I am having difficulties writing.

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January Happy List

It might seems like my last few posts were a bit too gloomy. Or so I've been told. So I am going to try something different for this post, a Happy List. I am going to look back at January (it still has four more days, but we'll just ignore that) and write all the good and happy things that happened this month.
Unimaginable. I know.
Okay, here we go:

First week of January, my parents were still here, we welcomed the year with style - drinking good wine, watching a good movie and plenty of fireworks.

I did not drop any iPhone into the toilet, so I did not destroy the year (yet. there is still time).
We were tourist for a day and went to see the changing of the guard at Buckingham, which I always love to do (yes, we did it more than once. I think by now we've been to the Changing of the Guard ceremony about 5 or 6 times. Never gets old).
I got a gorgeous new bag, and as a gift from my parents a pair of oh so worm, comfy and lovely snow boots that I was so thankful for this past couple of weeks with the cold weather.
Ron went to his Arsenal fun day and had the best day of his life, met all the players and got autographs from some. he was in heaven, and Hidai was so jealous...

We went to the Battersea Children Zoo, where Yon had the time of his life, and met lots of animals, and we could see that he is ready for a "big" zoo.

I finished all my photo albums for 2012. I know it might seem trivial, but I am very vigilant (okay anal retentive) about our photo albums, but because of the move and everything I was a bit behind (like all my projects), so I finished the first half of 2012, I uploaded a 2 parts albums comprised of my Photo A Day project to Facebook (an album, I might add that nobody watched. Yes dear readers, you are being told off), I chose, uploaded and organised all my photos for the second half of the year album and uploaded a December album to Facebook (that people did watched. Positive reinforcement - Yeay readers!). Yes, and I did almost all of that in 2 days. Granted, it did take almost the whole 48 hours, but it was done.

I re-organised the boys room to find a place for all the Christmas presents. Had you seen their room in its pre-Christmas state you would have understood why it deserved a place in the Happy List.

second week of January, I cleaned the house (again, had you seen it...) and everyone went back to school / work.

Hidai and I had a coffee date, for what felt like the first time in AGES, but was actually just three weeks, in a small cafe on our street that was cute and quiet.
Hidai & Ron built and Earth & Moon modal, an activity that deserves a spot because a) they had fun and learned a lot, b) it had a massive box that took up a lot of space in the room.

Ron had a mock airplane in his classroom, and a whole week of "Wow Week" where he learned mainly about France, and the school is now trying to raise the funds to take them on a trip to Paris.
I finished my blog projects - Christmas Recap, Yearly Review, and Moving to London page.

Third week of January, Snow Week!!! Light snow on Monday and heavy snow on the weekend.

I got my first +1 on google for my blog.
Ron had his after-school clubs, with both of them being football, and with getting compliments about his form.
Yon had a birthday at nursery and got to eat cakey.

Fourth week of January, Hidai worked from home and we got to spend some much needed time together (until Friday, when he ran away to the office).
Yon was on the verge of being sick, but wasn't (that so deserves a place in the Happy List).
We ate French Toast, Challa and Chocolate-Chips Pancake. Not on the same day though.

 

I cut my hair. Yes, it was not a non-English speaking person mistake, I did cut my hair, and now it's a shorter length and really cool and cute. I know it sounds crazy, but I was bored and annoyed with my long hair, I still don't have a hairdresser I trust, I saved money, and I figured - it's hair. it will grow back. Oh, and I also don't really like going to get my hair cut. Hair salons makes me nervous. So after debating with myself for a while, I just... Went for it. And it's great! I am so happy with the result!

Hidai went to his first School Governors meeting. We are involved with the school. We've never been involved. We are not involved people. Except that now we are (well, let's not get carried away. Hidai is).
Arsenal won. Very important.

Last days of January - We are all ready to start february :)
Our February budget is all ready, we were very good on January and have reached our goal.
The weather has improved and we are back to double digits for this week.
We dropped all the weight we gained during the holiday period, and Hidai is back to an exercise regime (I am still not, but I am not sure if it's a good thing or not).

That's it. That's my Happy List. Not so long, Not so impressive I guess, but also Not so bad after all...

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