Show and Tell is wasted on elementary schoolers. Join several dozen bloggers weekly to show off an item, tell a story, and get the attention of the class. In other words, this is Show and Tell 2.0. Everyone is welcome to join, even if you have never posted before and just found out about Show and Tell for the first time today. So yank out a photo of the worst bridesmaid’s dress you ever wore and tell us the story; show off the homemade soup you cooked last night; or tell us all about the scarf you made for your first knitting project. Details on how to participate are located at the bottom of this post.

Let’s begin.

During my sophomore year of college, I started going abroad–usually to Europe–once a year. Most of the time, I was meeting someone over there that I knew and for some reason, they believed that I would enjoy hanging out in a Jewish section of town rather than experience the other 99.9% of the city. Fine, fine, I actually really enjoyed attending shul in Rome and hanging out at the Jewish nursing home in Oslo. But still–I’m not sure it was really necessary to walk several miles to see a sign in Hebrew that a friend found in Barcelona.

With that first trip, I started purchasing a dreidel wherever I went. I don’t really love Chanukkah but dreidels are small and inexpensive and can be thrown into a sock at the bottom of a bag and make it back to America in one piece. So we now have this incredibly large dreidel collection (most of the unbreakable ones have the commandeered by the ChickieNob and hidden around the house in small nooks that she refers to as her “snuvs”–I have only found two of her snuvs therefore, I’m not entirely sure where most of the dreidels are currently hidden).

Below are three of my favourites. The metal one is a gift from a friend who brought it back from Jerusalem (people know that I collect dreidels so I now end up with one when friends travel as well). The blue one in the center comes from Venice, Italy from the island of Murano. I ended up with this dreidel because while we were in a store, I spun a huge glass dreidel to show my friend how they work and it ended up spinning off the shelf and bounced off four cardboard boxes until it hit the floor completely in tact. Everyone in the store was silent and staring at me and I was so embarrassed that I picked it off the floor, grabbed that blue dreidel and said, “I’d like to buy this, please.” The last dreidel also comes from Israel and it is the one I purchased instead of the “one that got away”–a gorgeous metal dreidel that opened up like a locket. When I returned to the store, it was gone. I purchased this one because I loved the font used for the letters. And it says “nes gadol ha’ya po” (a great miracle happened here) instead of “nes gadol ha’ya sham” (a great miracle happened there) as all dreidels do outside of Israel.

What are you showing today?

Click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post if this is your first time joining along (hint: link to the permalink for the post, not the main url for your blog and use your blog’s name, not your name). The list is open from now until late Tuesday night and a new one is posted every week.

Chanukkah kicks off this weekend and we’re having our Very Middle Eastern Almost-Oil-Free Chanukkah celebration (do you remember all of those Brady specials? “A Very Brady Christmas” or “A Very Brady Motorcycle Accident”? We like to name all of our meals like the Brady’s). We’re making pita and shishlik and salad and tehina–and washing it all down with tiny cups of Turkish coffee. Just like the Maccabees.

I’m really not a fan of Chanukkah. First and foremost, I don’t like fried foods. An entire holiday dedicated to oil? Really not thrilled about it. Second of all, I don’t like the way Chanukkah is now celebrated as if it’s a Jewish version of Christmas. I wrote about it a while back on BlogHer, but Chanukkah is actually this small holiday that is about fighting assimilation (and isn’t it weird that a holiday about fighting assimilation has become assimilated in order to be more like the majority holiday close on the calendar?).

I wrote:

So what is this celebration about? Jews don’t celebrate war, therefore, it’s not about the victory. Most people will still insist that the celebration refers to the miracle of the oil, but if the miracle of the oil was simply a story, what are we celebrating?

Personally, I look at the holiday as a kind of Thanksgiving. It is that period of peace that comes at the end of a struggle where you’re simply thankful for what you have. Just as Succot is a harvest holiday where thanks is given for the crops, Chanukkah can be a time of thankfulness–marked by community service, family meals, and enjoying what you already have rather than thinking about getting more.

So we’re having this big meal and we’ve decorated the house and we’ll eat doughnuts (called sufganiot) on Monday morning for breakfast for the first day of Chanukkah and we’ll light the candles each night. And then that’s that.

Doesn’t that make me sound like a Grinch?

Reminders: today is the last day to guarantee that your entry for the Creme de la Creme is up on January 1st. Anything that comes in after midnight tonight (American EST) will be on the list, but it will most likely go up after January 2nd or beyond. You can add your entry to the list until next December–it’s open literally the whole year and people do add themselves daily usually through February–but…yeah…I can only do so much between now and January 1st and once I have the final number, I make myself a daily budget. And that, babes, is how I get so much done. Oh, and having a stunt double, which is so much more useful than a personal assistant.

By the way, we had 160 total last year (and there were only 122 on January 1st). We’re already over 170 participants. I think this list is going to rock.

The IComLeavWe list closes for the month on Sunday and commenting begins. Get out there any comment heavy at the beginning of the week if you won’t be around towards the end.

Missing Eliana has a post about the kindness of strangers. On a day where she didn’t want to be out, didn’t want to be around all of the holiday decorations and music, a stranger walked up to her and gave her a $50 bill. For no reason. And disappeared. She spent some time walking through the store, trying to find her and speak to her. She writes: “And as strange as it sounds to say it, I think I wanted to cry with her. Maybe someone who would do something like that for a stranger is the kind of person who would be willing to listen to me try to explain why my emotions are so close to the surface. Maybe she would like to hear how much she touched the heart of someone who’s heart has been so recently broken.” It is about being receptive to receiving and how much our small acts of kindness can affect another person. It is a story, if you are willing to do so, that should be passed along. Hopefully the words will reach this woman if we all spread the word via our blogs.

An Offering of Love has a post in a similar vein of a coworker who said the right thing at the right time. In a world where everyone is so eager to fix your problems, make suggestions, offer hollow promises, her coworker simply agreed, shared his own similar story, and let her know that she wasn’t alone. And that is a tremendous gift.

Finally, Life after Infertility and Loss has a post about not being able to write. But no, no, no, of course she has put a tremendous twist on it AND in turn, by writing about not writing she has written a fantastic post. It is about seeing yourself in an entirely different light and learning to live in a new state of being. She writes: “Then it hits me, I always expected the ‘after’ thing to be when I was older, so now that we’re here at after, I must be old. And maybe that is what this is all about – accepting that I am getting older and I’ve reached that age that my 20-something self considered no longer ‘young’.” Wasn’t that an incredible thought? I am still chewing on where I fit on my “no longer young” spectrum.

The roundup to the Roundup: Chanukkah starts this weekend, last day to send in your post for Creme to make it on the initial list, IComLeavWe starts this Sunday, and lots of bloggage to read (as well as a story to pass along). See everyone back here Saturday night with Show and Tell.

I’ve had a lot of wonderful things happen because of this blog, but this is really incredible. Thank you to the person who wishes to remain anonymous who made this happen. I will be in Orlando this year for the event so I can’t wait to meet all of the Florida chickies!

I thought it would be a good idea to open the Virtual Lushary this week before everyone heads into the holidays. For some people, next week will be extraordinarily painful. For others, it will be relief after a long period of wanting. And for Jews, it will be a to bitch about how nothing is open. Merry Christmas!

I have posted a most obnoxious amount of photos from our DC get together so I will understand completely if you need to scroll quickly to the comment section and place your drink order. But below is many (though not all–only 14 of us) of TOOTPU.

What is TOOTPU? It is the Order of the Plastic Uterus so named because of this little sweetie:

We kick more ass than Harry Potter and could take down Voldemort with a single blog post. We convened at Leah’s house who is the procurer of said uterus (oh, it is a story worth hearing and perhaps, if you ply her with many a drink, it will come spilling out). We ate a lot of cookies and cried and teased each other and fuck, it was really hard to go home. I knew Josh needed to leave for work, but how many times do you get to hang out face-to-face with all these incredible women all in one moment? We get together once a month as a group, but it’s always magical when so many people attend all at once.

Top Row (L–R): Sell Crazy Someplace Else, Our Family Beginnings, In and Out of Luck, A Little Sweetness, Yummy Sushi Pajamas, and Antigone Lost.
Bottom Row (L–R): A Sibling for Celia, Chez Perky, Stirrup Queens, My Journey Towards My Little Miracle, Tales of My Dusty Ovaries, and Hoping for Another Lovebug.

Jen and Lindsay and Meghan relaxing on the sofa

B, J, and Shelby chatting by the tree

A hug between Lindsay and In

Bean, Meghan, Leah, and Sunny

And then laughing hysterically

Sunny and Karen chatting about multiples (I was not included in the conversation after I told Sunny that every time she called me in the first few months, I was going to remind her how much sleep I’m now getting. I wish there was a job where I could get paid to tease Sunny).

Standing at
a strange angle + wearing a sweater that draws many a comment = most unflattering picture ever

Bean and Leah laughing while Antigone looks veeeeeeeeeery serious

Yummy Sushi Pajamas chats with Antigone

Sunny and Karen

A sidenote on the post’s title: for some reason, I thought the drink we had at Leah’s was called ruby slippers and not ruby sippers and I really like it better that way. Everyone could use a pair of red shoes to click together under the table when they’re chanting to themselves, “there’s no place like home.” So, if you are sad or frustrated this holiday, pour your heart out below. And if you are joyous, pour your heart out below. And know that you have a world of people who have your back even when you’re far away from the screen.

It has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I’ll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person’s blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don’t have a blog–gasp!–you can always leave an email address if you’re looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you’re a regular at the bar, I’ll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I’m glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I’m talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

This is the 21st installment of Barren Advice. You can ask questions that are fertility or non-fertility related.

Barren Advice is posted each Tuesday-ish. If you have your own question for Barren Advice, click here to learn how to submit. Please weigh in with your own thoughts in the comment section and indicate which question you’re addressing if there are multiple questions in the post.

Dear Mel,

I am a 32-year old stirrup queen, just finished with my 4th clomid cycle. I live in a major East Coast city. DH and I are planning to stay here long-term and we’re thinking about buying a house. We can’t afford to buy a house in the city, so we’re looking in the suburbs. The problem is that we don’t know if we’ll finally get pregnant next month or 5 years from now or never. I’m ready to move to the suburbs and raise a family there. But I don’t know if I’m ready to move to the suburbs without a family. I’m tired of putting our lives on hold as we wait for our miracle baby, but I don’t want to be stuck in the suburbs for years with no kids, and I don’t want to be upset every time I see the extra bedroom just waiting for baby furniture! What do you think- stay put in our 1 BR rented apartment in the city until we get pregnant, or move now to a house in the ‘burbs?

–Anonymous

Let’s tuck away the fact that you could find a veeeeeeeeery nice deal on a house in this market and just look at the decision from a best-for-the-heart point-of-view.

What you’re essentially asking is if it’s better to wait to do something because of infertility and my answer is almost always going to be no. Don’t wait to take that trip, don’t wait to buy that car, don’t wait to buy the house. At least, not because of infertility (it’s fine to make those same decisions due to money). Because what happens is that you start giving up more and more and more for infertility and you are already giving up so much. I feel the same way about all sort of emotional painful wait–waiting for a partner, waiting for parenthood, waiting for…anything outside your control.

You already have to give up a specific amount of control and recognize that it’s out of your hands. There is only so much you or a doctor or an adoption agency director can do–there are steps that are outside your hands. That said, you don’t have to give infertility control over other aspects of your life. It’s like being told something costs $3 and giving the cashier $10 instead. Infertility already has a cost and you need to accept that cost. It even has hidden costs that life will try to collect from you down the road. But you don’t need to open your purse and offer infertility more than what it says on the price tag.

I think answering this question based on your situation means sitting down and picking a Plan B and a Plan C and possibly a Plan D out of infertility right now. The only time I would caution you not to immediately choose a home with more bedrooms than you need is if the possibility is on your list to living child-free after infertility. Sometimes, a person doesn’t know that this is the choice that will feel best and work best in the moment, but knowing what you know now, could you see yourself choosing to live child-free in the future?

If the answer is yes, I would perhaps put a small hold on the move and revisit it at a predetermined time down the road (six more months)? The other point I would make is whether you always see yourself living in the city (and if that is a place you’d be happier if child-free). If the answer is no, that you’ve always seen yourself as moving out to the suburbs at some point, I wouldn’t put it off much longer than that six month window to approach the decision cautiously. And truly, if the answer is no and you’d want to live in suburbia regardless of your parenting situation, I don’t even see the need for the six month thinking period.

On the other hand, if the answer is that you would take the other paths out of infertility before you’d live child-free, I would tell you to look at this time period in the house as temporary. It is painful, yes, but temporary. And sometimes knowing that the pain will most likely end can get you through the moments when you don’t know when it will end. Because not knowing the end date is awful. Barring exceptional circumstances, if you are determined to become a parent and willing to try every path to reach parenthood, you will become a parent and have a child in your house. There is never a promise, and finances may give out before determination, but I am thinking positively.

Will seeing an empty room be painful? Of course. But not seeing an empty room will be equally painful.

This thought obviously won’t cheer you up, but infertility is painful. It is emotionally difficult regardless of what you do to cocoon yourself. There are things that will be exquisitely horrible and I urge you to avoid doing those activities (such as hanging out all day in an OB’s office). But there are plenty of other neutral activities and spaces that will become painful simply because infertility is painful. And empty rooms are one of those things. In and of itself, your house will not be emotionally painful but being anywhere–your apartment in the city or a house in the suburbs–can become a reminder rather than a refuge. It is a huge feat to not allow a space to take on negative connotations when you are feeling so crappy emotionally.

Which is a long way of saying that you should stay in the city because you’re not ready to leave your neighbourhood or because it’s easier or not a good time to secure a loan. But don’t put your life on hold simply because all pieces are not in place.

It may help to consider this idea: are you the sort of person who makes decisions and trusts that things will work out in the future? For instance, at some point you chose your college or moved to this city without knowing if you would meet a partner there (this assumes you wanted a partner and that you’re not high school sweethearts). You just trusted that things would work out or not work out, but you’d be in a space where you’d be happy (or happy-ish).

You’ll need to take the same step now in buying a house. Buy the house because you want the house, not because you have all the rooms filled. And trust that either it will work out or not, but you’ll be in the space that makes you happy (or happy-ish).

Unless, of course, as you read this advice and the comments that you realize that happy (or happy-ish) is actually in the city. At least for now.

No really, the beauty of a blog advice column is that you get to weigh in with your two cents too. Let the questioner know if you support the advice, add to the response, or dispute it completely.

Leave a comment in the reaction box below–only keep in mind that conflicting advice is embraced and rudeness is not. Want to ask your own question? Click here to see what you need to send in order to be included in a future Tuesday’s installment of Barren Advice.