I always imagined that when I was pregnant, I would do everything right. I’d eat super foods, take prenatal vitamins daily, exercise regularly and read all the books (shoots arm up with a mighty fist). For the first 15 weeks of my pregnancy, I drank only sparkling apple juice, forced down bagels and cream cheese, and relentlessly chewed Trident …
I have this super random memory from sixth grade. We were all in Mrs. Mc-something’s science class and the end-of-class bell went off early. She shh-shh-ed us all, then it happened again a few minutes later. Out of no where, this kid Chou-Chou threw his arms up and screamed, “Damn you clock! Why must you mock me?!” …
In my early teens, I was obsessed with this magazine called YM – do you remember it? “Young and Modern.” Shortly after, I moved on to the slightly mature Seventeen and then to the ever-trampier Cosmopolitan. Like most young women, I looked at the pimple-free Cover Girl faces and toned-stomach beauties, agonizing over how they could possibly …
I’ve heard the story about my dad’s first day of kindergarten at least a dozen times. He was ready for the day. Excited even. But then he talked in class and was banished to the corner. It was cruel. He barely made it out alive. When the final bell rang, he ran to his mom after class …
Some days you have to eat cake. I don’t really like cake, so some days I have to eat scotchmallows from See’s Candies. Yesterday was one of those days. I drove to the mall to go shopping and eat candy but almost everything I tried on looked ugly. Or didn’t fit. I felt sad. My …
Because oatmeal is really depressing. I’m, like, super particular about my morning food. I have eaten the same smoothie every morning for the last three years. Every now and then, I won’t want to clean the blender and I’ll pour a bowl of granola, but I get kinda bent out of shape if I don’t have …
Minimalism is in. And, anyways, it feels good to say no. It has been a slow stroll into 2014 for me. I’ve neglected my gmail account. I’ve turned my text alert off. I’ve forgotten my log in password for my school’s website, and heaven help me if I can recall my locker code tomorrow morning. …
Some weekends remind us how far we’ve come. Half of the time, I grew up in a Splenda house. A non-fat milk, sugar-free chocolate, ten-calorie popsicle, crazy-fiber-muffins-for-breakfast-make-for-super-embarrassing-drives-to-school kind of house. The other half of the time I spent eating cantaloupe for dessert. Cantaloupe or Jell-o with whipped cream. Cantaloupe is what you eat when you’d …
I am asleep but my heart is awake. Two years ago, I packed up my clothes, emptied my cabinets, and crossed the long, marbled hallway into Ben Gurion airport. I sat alone at my gate, eyes welling with tears, and I wrote a post about leaving Israel. When the plane took off, I said a …
Cooking in someone else’s home is hard. You don’t know which knife is the best. You’re uncharacteristically clean. You’re unsure whether you can just rinse a cup that was only, sorta, kinda used or if you really have to use soap. The burners never get hot fast enough, the oven gets hot too quickly, and …
my jerusalem kitchen 