It was one of those delightful evenings where the biggest dilemmas revolved around whether to dish out seconds of strawberry ice cream (yes, please), if we had time for one more round of Go Fish before bedtime (we did), and which book to read, King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub or Where the Wild Things Are (we decided to enjoy both). Their hair, still damp from the shower, and eyes beginning to droop, when suddenly – the siren blared.
No. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. This is not a drill.
Living in Israel means being acutely aware of the ongoing conflict with a terrorist group just an hour away, one intent on our destruction and launching rockets at us for over a decade. Anyone residing here, irrespective of faith – Muslim, Christian, or Jew – is a potential target.
And here’s the wild part: just as I was taught “STOP, DROP, AND ROLL” in earthquake-prone Los Angeles, my kids instinctively knew how to react when the sirens pierced the night air. They dashed to their flip-flops neatly lined up by the door – thank goodness for inexpensive slip-on shoes! My daughter struggled to put hers on, so I scooped her up, while my son and I hurried past the purple scarecrow they had built “to keep the rockets away, Mama, so they don’t hurt us when we sleep,” over the rocky terrain toward a public bomb shelter.
Wait, what? We have a public bomb shelter.
Like everyone else in Israel, bomb shelters are ubiquitous. Air raid sirens, the Iron Dome – a high-tech system designed to intercept rockets mid-flight before they can strike families like ours – bomb shelters and fortified rooms are integrated into daily life. Thank goodness for them, because just before we reached safety, the ground shook. It literally moved.
STOP. DROP. AND ROLL? No, keep running until we’re safe inside.
“Red Alert, Red Alert,” my children sang. “Hurry hurry hurry because now it’s dangerous. Hurry hurry hurry, to a safe area.” So while I grew up humming “The Wheels on the Bus,” my kids sing a tune about what to do during a rocket attack.
“Breathe deep, it’s ok to laugh!” they chanted, as we entered the shelter filled with other families.
We trembled with each blast, my daughter letting out a scream reminiscent of a horror movie when the monster emerges from the shadows – because these are our monsters, the rockets that threaten us.
Inside the shelter, what can we do?
We munched on Pringles and sipped chocolate milk. We played Go Fish with our neighbors and prayed. In Judaism, there’s a saying: when life gets tough, first you cry, then you get angry, and finally, you laugh. With wide smiles and loud laughter, we embraced the chaos.
As news flashed through WhatsApp that a rocket had landed just a five-minute walk from where we had been enjoying strawberry ice cream moments before, we skipped over the tears, leaped past the anger, and went straight to laughter.
Really, what other choice do we have?
This article was originally published on July 23, 2014.
If you’re looking for more insights into motherhood, check out this post on using a home insemination kit. It’s a great resource for those considering self-insemination options. For comprehensive information on pregnancy and home insemination, visit this excellent resource on IVF.
Summary:
In Israel, a mother’s evening with her children can swiftly transform as sirens signal danger from nearby conflict. While she reflects on the contrast between her childhood in Los Angeles and her children’s unique experiences, the family navigates this tension with humor and resilience. Emphasizing the importance of laughter amidst fear, she recounts their journey to safety and how they cope with the realities of living in a war-torn region.
Keyphrase: Motherhood in Israel
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]