Having a baby is always an exciting event, and while no two births are the same, after a few births, many women feel a certain level of comfort. They think that they know what to expect. Well, that changed when COVID reared its ugly head. I personally found my last birth and hospital stay to be a very different experience than the previous ones. I decided to ask some friends and neighbors for their say on the matter.

I recently ran my first marathon, and it struck me how much learning and growth goes into such an experience. Funny how I have likely planned and trained more for this than for my wedding, having kids or any other life changing event. I’ve learned so many lessons, and have journaled them on my blog. Here they are:

Run your own race: Someone from our local frum community organized a weekly group to focus on speed work. At this group, it was easy to fall into the feeling of having to “keep up” or wondering why I couldn’t go as fast as someone else. But my friend wisely counseled me, saying, “You have to run your own race.” What a life lesson. We need to stop all the comparison, being someone or doing something because others expect it, because others are doing it. In this life, it’s only our own race that matters.

I cam to learn in Eretz Yisroel after three years of beis medrash (post-high school). I grew up in Lakewood, New Jersey, and, like most   

Remember, two years ago, when ads suddenly flooded the frum Jewish media asking us to vote for a new “political party” to represent the religious community at the World Zionist Organization’s upcoming Congress? Few people in our community even knew what WZO did or why it was important. But we learned: The WZO has tremendous influence on the Israeli government’s policies vis a vis the Diaspora. It comprises parties that stand for the whole range of pro-Israel Jewish opinion, from far left to right, and the policies it adopts are determined by the vote at its Congress.

Dear Dr. Weisbord,

Ever since elementary school, I have always dreamed of going to seminary in Eretz Yisrael. Now that I am finally in twelfth grade, I am becoming less enthusiastic about the idea. I am still eager to experience Eretz Yisrael, and I still feel like I will benefit from the high level of learning. However, there doesn’t seem to be any place that is right for me. There are several seminaries that I am considering, but all of them have significant drawbacks, and there are extremely compelling reasons not to attend each one. I feel as though I am trying to choose between the lesser of two evils. Ten months is a very long time to spend someplace. I don’t see how I’ll be able to hop on a plane and go to any of these seminaries. I would not want to give up the whole idea, but I just don’t know where I belong.

Not Fitting In

About three months ago, I was perusing my newsfeed when a story from the famous modern artist, Yaeli Vogel, showed up. Her message was strong yet clear: Her newborn baby was inexplicably unable to eat and sustain weight gain. Doctor after doctor had been consulted, and, thankfully, every possible culprit was ruled out. This week, Yaeli posted an update that made my blood run cold – not because the diagnosis was severe; on the contrary. Her story resonated with me personally on a deep level as I went through something very similar about three years ago. Although it was the same mystery solved in the end, the path to get there was very different. One thing, however, was exactly the same: the lack of physician education on, and the failure to take seriously, a matter that took such a small fix.

I have a friend whom everyone likes. Know the type? She claims it’s because they like listening to her South African accent, but I know better. My friend Wendy has this wonderful way about her that draws everyone to her like a magnet. She is also known for the amazing amounts of chesed she does for her community. I remember when Wendy used to hold sheva brachos in her house for upwards of 60 to 70 people even if she barely knew the baalei simcha. She did more than that. Wendy organized the events and helped cook the food too. Who does that? Wendy’s kindness to others was truly amazing, but she always acted like it was nothing.

Another year is coming to a close and, that means thinking income taxes. As always, we need to see what can be done before the close of the year. Let’s go through a checklist:

Child Tax Credit: Children up to age 17 (it was 16 in the past) receive a $3,000 tax credit. (Under age six get $3,600.) This credit is fully refundable. If a family earns $40,000 and has five children, they will get back about $20,000 from the feds and Maryland, which includes the child tax credit and the earned income credit. This money is tax free. They will also get free health insurance with zero deductibles. Of course, there are also food stamps, worth maybe $1,000 per month. Doesn’t seem like a big incentive to work hard and make more money. This child tax credit is reduced for any money you have been receiving since July as that money was an advance of this credit.

To the Shadchan:

 I’m a regular Baltimore guy in my mid-twenties with a good job. I met this really wonderful girl through a dating website. Before going out, I checked into her and her family superficially as I was not really expecting it to work out. Everything seemed okay – no big red flags for the things I thought I cared about. We have gone out now several times. The girl is very nice. She is warm and funny and pretty. She is educated and hardworking – all great.

It was early in the evening when the hurricane hit. The storm was horrendous. The trees bent almost to the ground, the wind howled, and a solid sheet of rain battered the house. We thought the windows might break and didn’t know if the roof would hold. Our family huddled in the basement, just in case. The power went out, so we lit Shabbos candles. The kids were too upset and scared to play board games. My wife and I cuddled the younger ones.

The storm ended about two o’clock that night. We all went upstairs to see what was broken. Baruch Hashem, the roof and the windows were intact. We slept on our own beds that night. The power did not come back on for two weeks, however, and there was no gas in the stove. Still, we were lucky, compared to other families. Trees had fallen on roofs, and windows were blown out. A major bridge nearby was washed away.