PARENTING JULIE LEVINE

Julie Levine is a Bay Area writer. She lives in San Francisco with her husband and two children.

Dawn Kepler leads Building Jewish Bridges, a program that embraces Bay Area interfaith families. “Mixed & Matched” offers advice for Jews in interfaith relationships and families. Send letters to dawn@ buildingjewishbridges.org. I was never a fan of giving the kids timeouts when they were little. I didn’t think putting them in a room by themselves taught them anything about their bad behavior. Instead, I reserved the timeouts for myself.

And I still do.

I remember the days when I’d spend a fair amount of time cooking dinner, only for one child to drop their entire plate of food on the floor (by accident perhaps, but who knows). As soon as I’d clean up that mess, the other child would have a tantrum over something inconsequential.

There’d be times when one kid would torment the other relentlessly for what felt like hours. Then there’d be those afternoons when they’d gang up together, pull all the sheets and covers off their beds, dump all their toys on the floor, and take all their books off the bookshelves. This made them laugh uncontrollably and made me absolutely crazy.

Most of the time, though, they were lovely, but they had their moments.

And in these moments, I was exasperated and annoyed.

I’d be on the edge of losing it, so I’d give myself a timeout instead of the kids. I’d head to the bedroom, shut the door and cool down for a few minutes. The sheets and covers, toys and books might still be all over the floor after I returned from my mini-break, but (usually) the squabbling was over, and the tantrum ended. I was calmer, and that helped me be a better mother.

Fast-forward to parenting teenagers in a pandemic, and I’m finding I need these timeouts again — more than ever. The kids are not fighting, nor are they throwing their dinner plates on the floor. They are not having tantrums. It’s nothing like that.

I know the pandemic has affected all of us, but there are times when I think it’s hardest for our older kids who, on the brink of adulthood, aren’t yet wired at their age to be so isolated and confined.

Our son is spending most of his senior year of high school at home. Our daughter is at college but living with considerable restrictions. I’m trying to do my best to support my family emotionally, but I have my good days and so-so days just like everyone else.

Bringing back those timeouts of long ago helps rejuvenate me, especially when I’m feeling anxious and worried. Sometimes it’s just a room in our house where I turn off my phone for 15 minutes and do nothing. It’s not so much a prescribed meditative practice as it is a much-needed spontaneous chill-out when I’m feeling overwhelmed.

There’s also a lovely park a few blocks from where we live. I try to walk there every day, at the end of my day. I have a favorite bench where I like to sit. Seeing the little kids smiling and playing, and the toddlers ambling along, restores me. Sometimes there’s a group of elementary school kids sitting in a wide circle, socially distanced, chatting and laughing with their masks on their chins. They must be happy, I think, to be outside together.

Virtual Shabbat has also become a sacred space for me to take a breath. On Fridays, after another week of rising Covid cases, another week of parenting in a pandemic, I’m fried. I log on to services, and as soon as I hear the rabbi and the cantor, my spirits are lifted. It helps me to connect with my community and know I’m not alone.

It’s an old cliché, but it’s true: We moms have to put our oxygen mask on first before putting it on our kids.

While there’s nothing I can do about the pandemic, remembering to take time out for myself each day — even if it’s for 15 minutes — helps me reset and gives me what I need to take care of the people in my life that I love the most. n

MIXED & MATCHED DAWN KEPLER

Dear Dawn: Can I first say how impactful and helpful I have found your writing? I am a non-Jew in a relationship with a Jewish man. I love him, and his Orthodox identity is a big part of who he is. I have been researching as much as I can, but I notice that it is quite difficult to find information on Judaism for non-Jews. I haven’t found accessible information on conversion.

Although we are not ready to discuss marriage and children, I think it is important that we do so, as faith is such an important part of a relationship and building a life together, and as an interfaith couple, I don’t think it is possible for us to have this conversation too soon! I am aware that if we were to marry, our marriage would not be recognized by Orthodox Judaism.

But the issue that has really been bothering me is the thought of future children. I know that my partner wants to share his Jewish identity with his kids, and I am fully on board. I am completely committed to the idea of raising children in a kosher household and abiding by the halachah. I understand this would be enough for Reform Judaism to consider our children to be Jewish, but not Orthodoxy. I know that if I wanted our children to be accepted as Orthodox Jews, then the obvious solution is to convert. But I don’t see marriage and children as a valid reason and, as an atheist, I see it as personally inappropriate to do so.

I’m wondering what you think and whether you think that were my partner and I to raise children in an observant household, engage with the community and send them to Jewish schools, would it be possible for them to convert to Orthodox Judaism as children? — Planning Ahead

Dear Planning: Thank you for your kind words. You have raised a number of issues. First, a good place to start learning about Judaism would be a basic Judaism class. You would learn in a structured way and have a teacher as a resource. Your partner’s rabbi should be able to assist you in this. I think it is much too early to consider converting.

As for discussing marriage, honestly, your partner can’t be too attached to Orthodox practice or he wouldn’t be dating a non-Jew. I don’t mean this as an insult but as an observation. He owes you an explanation as to why he is dating you. Is he serious? Has he thought about the complications? Has he introduced you to his family or taken you to services at his synagogue? Does he see this relationship as serious? If you are sleeping together, that should be a red flag. He’s lying to someone, perhaps himself.

Yes, the big can of worms is children. This is always the toughest part. It is true that Reform Judaism would accept children raised as Jews as sufficient to view your children as Jewish. But that leaves the rest of the world’s Jewish population not thinking your kids are Jewish. Is your partner ready to face that?

Indeed, you could change everything by having an Orthodox conversion. But that would be artificial on your part. Being an atheist would prevent you from having an Orthodox conversion anyway. Does your partner believe in God? How does he view your beliefs? Are you planning to pretend to believe in order to have a traditional home? I’m not a fan of pretense.

You ask if your children could convert to Orthodox Jewry. There are occasions when a child can have an Orthodox conversion when the mother is not Jewish: if the child is raised in an observant home, going to an Orthodox day school, etc. But your situation is significantly more complex than others I’ve worked with.

Is your partner open to talking to me? Let me be totally frank with you. In the past, when a woman in your position is the one who contacts me, and her Jewish boyfriend doesn’t want to talk/meet with me, it is because he is ambivalent. Those relationships don’t last when the man is pressed to be honest. I don’t want you to be madly in love and only then find out that he can’t bring himself to commit to you. I do not support lying or deception in a relationship. Granted, he may at this point be lying to himself most of all, but you are the person who will be most harmed.

Please ask him about this and tell me what he says. n