Please welcome David Moshe Haykin

It's true! He's here! David Moshe Haykin was born at 5:43am on 6/12/15. (I was always skeptical of how moms remembered the birth times of their babies... I am no longer. 5:43am will be burned into my mind forever now, in the best way possible.)DMH property of Talia HaykinI will write more about his birth and him but he had his bris today and I know people are anxious to know his name and the stories behind it. I will share pictures of him on this blog but they will be protected posts so contact us if you would like access to them. We will be sharing images with the general public in a VERY limited way for his safety and to protect the images from people who steal that sort of thing.So here we are - David Moshe Haykin. Here is why we named him as such:Moshe - After Talia's Paternal grandfather Maurice Davis:

We choose to name David Moshe after two very important people.His middle name, Moshe, is after my paternal grandfather, Maurice. Moshe was his Hebrew name. He was my best friend, pretty much since the day I was born. I was the very first grandchild on either side and my father tells me that I quite quickly had grandpa wrapped around my little finger. It was in him who confided all my secrets, he made up and played silly games with me... like when we would pretend our fingers were people and they would get lost in his copious chest hair. He would play rock, paper, scissors with me for hours on end and then tickle my back with a feather he pulled from his pillow while we watched M*A*S*H* and Murder, She Wrote together. As I grew older, I learned that he was more than just a hairy and fun playmate. He was a very well respected rabbi within the Reform Jewish movement. If you picture a classical Reform Rabbi, it would be a picture of him with his pulpit robes on, commanding the attention of hundreds, thousands on the High Holy Days.He was the kind of man who, when called, jumped on a plane to Selma, Alabama in March of 1965 to stand and march with Martin Luther King, Jr. and the kind of man who, with crippling blisters on his feet from marching for 12 hours in dress shoes, found a way to his father-in-law’s bedside in Cincinnati as soon as he found out that he was gravely ill. He was the kind of man who when he noticed young people from his congregation disappearing into the cults of the 1970’s he studied the commonalities of these kids and used the information to council parents and assist in the deprogramming of the children. In my memory he will always be a dichotomy. A respected and stately rabbinic presence who was mourned greatly when he passed away and a giant teddy bear who would throw me on his back and let me play horsey with him. I hope that by giving our David Moshe his name, our little boy will find the balance of responsibility and playfulness, be well spoken and kind, and stand for what he believes in.But, as my grandfather would say, My Dear Friends, this name is so much more than that. The letter M or Mem comes up over and over in my life. My other dear grandfather, Milton’s Hebrew name was Menachem Mendel – for David Moshe, I hope he has the gentleness of Poppa Milton. And the man who became my surrogate grandfather, and who married us, Reb Zalman’s Hebrew name was Meshullam Zalman. For David Moshe, I hope he has the wisdom and insight that Reb Zalman brought to each encounter.

David - After Daniel's paternal grandfather David Haykin:

We chose to name our son David after my grandfather, David Haykin.  I would like to wish my son a healthy dose of my grandfather’s best virtues: his mischievous and fun loving attitude towards life, and his bravery.When I was a little boy, my parents went to work and I spent all day with my grandparents.  My grandfather David would take me for long walks, we would whittle wood and get into adventures.  One of my most vivid memories from childhood was the time I watched Granpa David fall out of a tall tree.  We were on one of our walks and he said, ‘Daniel, look up there in the tree, there is a bird’s nest.  And inside that nest, Daniel, there’s an egg.’  I was intrigued.  ‘Grandpa, what color is the egg?’  He said, ‘let’s find out!’ and started climbing the tree.  He was probably 70 years old at the time.  When he reached the top of the tree, the mama bird spotted the interloper and flew back to defend her nest. She pecked my grandfather’s face and hands, he was startled and lost his grip.  I was only three years old and utterly astounded to watch an old man fall from a tree.  It seemed like he fell for a long time and when he hit the ground, I thought he was hurt.  But he stood up smiled and said, ‘Daniel, the egg is blue.’My memories of grandfather David were full of smiles, adventures and fun.Among his many virtues, was my grandfather’s bravery.   He was a paratrooper during WWII on the Soviet side.  Over the course of five years, he participated in countless jumps behind enemy lines.  He was the second highest recipient of medals for bravery in the entire Red Army.  It was because of his military past that we ended up in the United States.  My father originally wanted to resettle our family in Israel, but my grandfather refused.  He has seen too much war and he didn’t want that for his family.David was a teenager when he left his large, seven-person family to become a soldier.  When he came back from war, he learned that the Holocaust had claimed his entire family, leaving him only one brother. Had it been otherwise, the Haykin family would be overflowing with cousins, uncles and aunts.  But before this last week, I was the last male Haykin.  We name our son David praying that with God’s help and blessings this will be the beginning of the repopulation of the Haykin family.  So that when my son David is a grandfather himself, his extended family should seem to him just as God’s promise to Abraham - they should seem as numerous as the stars in the heavens.

3/3/15

Today was a hectic day. Meeting after meeting. Project after project. Email after email. I cranked all day. But there was something that was never far from my mind today.Today, our little girl, our second baby, was due. I felt such hope about that pregnancy. Surely after our first loss, G-d would help us keep this baby. All the signs were there. We found out we were pregnant on Dan's birthday. The baby was due on 3/3, one of the alternate dates we picked for our wedding. But also, if the baby was born on 3/3, we would share a hebrew birthday 13 Adar. We would both be Purim babies. And if this baby came two weeks late (just like I did) we would share an English birthday. My in-laws, my stepmother and I all share March birthdays. See?! So many signs.I carry you in my heartBut that little girl was not meant to come home with us. She was very ill, we found out after we lost her and it was (we learned from the doctor) better that she wasn't born. But she and her older sibling (due 12/13/14) are never far from my mind. I wear a little heart necklace all the time now. It reminds me of the two little hearts that aren't here with us. I know that they are in our hearts though and their little brother who, G-d willing, will join us in June will be a very special part of our family.A loss mom said to me once, "I was so sad about my miscarriage but after I had my son, I realized that without that loss, I wouldn't have the amazing boy I have today."So I was sad on 12/13/14 and 3/3/15 but I am so thank-full and joy-full that this little man is growing perfectly inside me. Baby Boy Haykin - we can't wait to meet you! (But stay safe in there as long as you need to!!)Cross posted from TaliaSheWrote.com

It's been a while...

I have to stop feeling guilty for not writing. I get so busy with life and neglect my blogs and then I feel guilty for not writing and then the cycle continues. However, in recent days I have been sending people to my blog for a multitude of reasons and it has amplified my guilt...So here's an update. After our two heartbreaking miscarriages last year, I am pregnant again and this one is looking really good. Currently I am 23 weeks and 4 days pregnant with a little boy. He will be, G-d willing, making his appearance in June.The road to this place has been really bumpy. And I have had a lot of thoughts swirling around in my head. I have chastised myself for not blogging through a lot of these thoughts at 1am when I can't sleep... because I am often so busy during the day (and my 'baby brain' is so intense) that I always forget my thoughts and never get them down. It's usually the quiet moments when my son is bouncing around inside of me like I am a human bouncy castle and the insomnia is on full blast, that I think of these things. It's also when I remember all the work I've forgotten to do and the errands I forgotten to run.I'm proud of my body for getting us here. In three short days, we will hit our next milestone... viability. Meaning if our son was born, he would have a chance of surviving. He's kicking me as I type this... haha, maybe he's mad at me for not being able to see 40 (or 42) weeks as the end point. I'm just too jaded to get that comfortable with assuming it will completely work out well.This pregnancy, we only went week to week. In the first trimester, we got weekly ultrasounds and our lives built up until that moment when we saw his heartbeat. Then we nonchalantly talked about dinner and a grocery store run and forgot about it all until the next week. After we got out of the first trimester, I kept putting off telling people. I was just so afraid to lose the baby again. At 10 weeks, we had a free cell DNA test. They take my blood, separate the baby's DNA from mine and tell us if anything is or could be wrong with him. That's also when we found out our boy was going to be a boy. By 12 weeks, we had the results back... he was perfectly healthy as far as they could see and he was a he. It was then when we decided we could celebrate, just the two (three) of us. Finally, around 14 weeks we told friends and family with a note in our holiday cards and then a facebook post.soba annoucement I had so many creative ideas during the first two pregnancies... and I was going to take week by week bump pictures... for this pregnancy, I couldn't even think that far in advance. I was barely making it to our Friday appointments. But as it became public and I became very obviously pregnant and there weren't any more tests the doctor could run to make sure he would be ok... we started to believe this is our reality. I'm still not quite at the "My son will be here in June" place yet... but my big ole' belly and his incessant kicks before bedtime make sure I can't ignore the life inside me.So Thursday is 24 weeks... the next milestone. Then we will get into the third trimester around the middle of the 27th week. Then I am traveling to Florida for work (with Dan in tow to carry the bags, or me, or my barf bag... flying and I don't agree when pregnant... but it's not stopped me), then Passover, then my little cousins' bar/bat mitzvah (twins), then time to plant the garden, then a long distance Mazal Tov to my cousin getting married in Rhode Island because I can't travel at 37+(!!!!!!) weeks, then my brother's 30th (!!!!) birthday, then either my son will be here or we will be celebrating his father's birthday and then he will be here!When you put it all into one paragraph... it doesn't seem that far from now... But then I look back at the YEAR I have spent pregnant (yes, off and on) and I thank G-d it's not that far from now.Last March, when I was starry eyed about starting this family, I would never have guessed that I would be here. Twelve whole months later, pregnant THREE times, and six months pregnant. It's beyond belief.Here's us - me at 21 weeks, Dan at... well... handsome.Denver Jewish Film Fest Opening NightCross posted from TaliaSheWrote.com

Blink of an eye

Life can change in a blink of an eye. Everything is so delicate. We may not realize it because our world is hard and fast but it's not always. And in the most tragic times, we often close up on ourselves and stay quiet. We create a safe space and control that space. But as I think about this, I am reminded of an episode of the Dennis Prager show's "Male/Female Hour." He discusses the importance of having 'couple' friends that you can open up to. Often we lie or 'vaguebook' or pretend that the world is so perfect for us when in reality we are struggling just like everyone else. And why can't we share? Well we are afraid someone will exploit this knowledge of us or we won't be seen as perfect.Something recently happened to us that made me want to shake that stigma... hard. So here it goes...Daniel and I were expecting our first child. We were over the moon. The little bean was due 12/13/14 and if you know me, you know I love plays on words and numbers. What a cool due date. We were planning a garden or champagne or other cool reveal. But one day, 7 weeks and 6 days in, something changed. We saw blood and got scared. We called my doctor and then went to the ER. At the ER I got lots of blood drawn, a Rhogam shot (I am a negative blood type) and an ultrasound. On this ultrasound we saw a beautiful but tiny bean with a STRONG heartbeat (141). However, the doctor set expectations low. We could lose this child. There is no obvious reason for the bleeding. We spent the weekend in complete relaxation mode. As the doctor said "no pogo sticking, no sky diving, no roller coasters." We took the advice more practically and I rested the whole time. I began cramping on Saturday and we saw red blood (a sign of miscarriage). However, we never saw much so we held out hope. We had to wait until Monday for a doctor's appointment to do another blood draw and ultrasound.The wait was nearly unbearable. As the moments ticked closer to the 2pm appointment, I broke out in cold sweats and nausea. We went in and the doctor, after hearing our story, sounded very positive. But then we did an ultrasound. There was our bean, no longer with a beating heart. We had lost our first child at 8 weeks. I was prescribed medication to help the process along... I could not just 'wait' for it to happen naturally. Sadly, the medication did not work and I had to go in for a D&C on wednesday.Baby Haykin left us on 5/5/14. We found out that Baby Haykin was in the works on 4/4/14... you know how I love numbers.As I reflected on my situation, I was leaning hard on my new friends from the pregnancy website I had been frequenting. They were other moms with losses, etc. The anonymity gave us the freedom to speak. And I realized, I don't know one person (that has said anything to me) who has lost a child. Who would I call? Who, among my friends, has had a miscarriage? Who knows the pain I now know of growing a child, only to lose it before meeting them? No one. We don't discuss this in life. And that bothers me. Because just like Dennis Prager said, if we all fake a good life to each other, we are measuring by fake rulers. The reality is, I have lost a baby. An 8 week old baby but one that was deeply loved and wanted. Daniel and I have both grieved hard for this baby to be. So I decided to put myself out there and share out grief in the hopes that if you, my friend or reader or acquaintance, are facing this, you know that you have someone in your corner that gets it. That knows what it is like to stare at your toilet paper trying to decipher what color that is. A person who knows the fear when the cramps come.I am openly sharing this with the world so you know you are not alone. A miscarriage can happen to anyone at any time. A healthy person, a sick person. No matter who you are. But don't be scared. Be strong.Please G-d, we will bring so many baby Haykins into the world some day soon.

Best. Wedding. Toast. Ever.

I have to just gush for a minute. My brother gave the best wedding toast ever. We were incredibly honored by all the toasts our family made. However, in particular, my brother gave a hilarious speech. Here is his speech, minus the hilarious ad libs. He had all of us rolling in the aisles and then tearing up. Oh and that picture? That is the hilarious fellow in the flesh, Ronin A. Davis. Click here to read more of his writing.

If you aren't sure just how amazing it was by reading it, check out the video! Thanks to Matthew Moore of Flat Face Films!

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Ronin giving a toastA Toast to Dan and Talia

How do you write a wedding speech for your sibling? I am not uncomfortable with public speaking, our father’s a Rabbi, all he ever wants to do is talk to large groups of people, you kind of get used to it. But this is new territory for me.

I thought of the typical formula that I had picked up from movies.  Funny and/or embarrassing childhood anecdote about the wedded sibling(Remember that time we set up a lemonade stand on our driveway and instead of lemonade we had a polaroid camera and were selling “glamor shots”)

followed by a sentimental nod to your relationship(we’ve always been so close people thought we were twins)

and end with an acknowledgement of the spouse(welcome to family Dan, you really seem like a great guy who clearly hasn’t seen the full extent of our father’s gun collection).

But circumstances conspired that Talia and I didn’t have the typical big sibling/little sibling situations that others had.  By the time I would have had her teachers (recognizing my name, asking me to say hi to her, making me feel insecure by regaling me with their constant praise of her) I was attending a different school or living in a different state than my sister.

When i went to high school she went to college, staying in Florida while our family moved to Colorado.  But just because I didn’t have my big sister there in person, it didn’t stop me from calling her, with a calling card, from the school payphone whenever I was upset (no cell phones yet, though Talia helped me get my first one four years later!).

Now believe me, Talia and I have fought and argued and it is not fun to be around the Davis siblings when they are stressed out at the same time.  But I think the true nature of our sibling-hood can be seen in how we were punished growing up.

After one of our arguments our mother got fed up and made us sit in the center of the living room floor with the soles of our feet touching.  Can everyone picture that?  She said we had to stay there till we made up.  So we sat and scowled at each other, argued some more, complained about this stupid punishment and then silently brooded for a bit.  After a while we decided to pull one over on our mother.  We’d pretend that we made up and that everything was ok.  So we hugged and smiled and Mom let us go back to our rooms... where we angrily shut our doors on each other.  Except we were not that angry anymore.  And honestly I don’t think we even remembered what we were fighting about.  To this day I just recall working together and thinking we were very clever...though looking back I think Mom may have been the clever one.

But when it comes down to it, Talia has been, if I may be so cliche, a lot more than a sister.  She’s been my friend, my travel buddy, and my co-worker.  We’ve lived together, shared a room...and a sink (much to her chagrin).  We’ve been each others co-pilots, counselors, and whatever you call the person who lights a fire under your ass.  We’ve shared our toys, our friends, our interests, and perhaps most shockingly, we almost died together (or were almost very seriously injured depending on your vantage point).

Talia, in one of her fearless adventures, traveled to LA to act.  Unfortunately it was LA, a place that repels Davises.  So I came out, packed CiCi (her Honda Civic) so full you couldn’t adjust the seats and we drove (she drove) back to Colorado.

As we drove through an unexpected blizzard in New Mexico [? - Arizona], her car spun out when we tried to avoid a semi that had gone off the road leaving the giant truck portion blocking half the street.  We spun, and spun, and spun.  Neither of us are clear on how fast we were spinning, we both just watched the corner of the truck inch closer with every spin.

We were silent.  We did not look at each other.  I was focusing calmly yet fiercely on the truck in an attempt to will it to hit my side of the car.  As I found out later, Talia was trying to will the truck to hit her side of the car.  When the car finally stopped spinning we sat in silence.  Staring out into the darkness, peppered with the occasionally gleaming flakes of snow as they passed in front of the headlights.

At some point we looked down to the console between us and saw that we had been holding hands the entire time.  Only at this realization did we finally look at each other, smile...and begin laughing.  Laughing hysterically.  Laughing at life, laughing at what was just avoided, laughing at our confusion and skewed perception?  I don’t know.  But we laughed - then drove very slowly to the nearest hotel.

I should note that neither of us cried, screamed, yelled, or panicked.  And I have a feeling that at least one of those actions would have creeped in had we not been together.

Dan, this story was to explain to you that you’re marrying someone whose brain power is so incredible that she was actually able to stop a moving car.

And Talia, this story was to remind you that love works best when it has company.  I don’t care about the facts of that near accident, the love we have for each other is what kept us safe.  It is amazing when you can find someone to willingly share your love and who will share their love in return.

Thank you, Ronin, for such an amazing toast.

 

A Holy Bath

Another ancient tradition that comes up around a wedding is that of the Mikvah. It is a place of ritual immersion, a facility used by both men and women (at different times, of course) with a certain amount of fresh water. A woman goes before her wedding and after every period to immerse. This is a woman's mitzvah (commandment) and a very special one. As for men, many go daily or on Friday before Shabbat begins. And it is a Chabad tradition that everyone, men and women (regardless of where they are in their cycle) go prior to Yom Kippur.Boulder MikvahBut there is a lot of misinformation around the idea of Mikvah. Words like impure and dirty get thrown around a lot in English but the reality is, the word Tamei or טָמֵא in Hebrew is hard to translate to English. Many say "ritually impure" but that holds negative connotations. It truly is a "state change." Your body is in a place of change. I don't want to go into details here because I am sure not all of you are visiting this website for that reason, but please, trust me when I say... it isn't a state of "dirtiness."Moving on. The mikvah is a very special piece of preparing for the wedding. When a bride is eligible (having to do with her period) and as close as she can to her wedding day, she will go to the mikvah. Preferably, she goes with her kallah (bride) teacher and perhaps her mother. Leading up to this time, she is learning with a woman who teachers her all about the laws of taharat hamishpacha (literally: laws of family purity). Again... won't go into that here... email me at thehaykins @ gmail . com if you would like to learn more or be in touch with someone who can teach you these laws.Once at the Mikvah, the bride cuts her nails short, removes all jewelry and make up. According to tradition, there must be nothing between the woman and the water at any point of her body. No nail polish, no hair ties, no nose ring (ahem). Then she takes a shower to clean off. Once she is free of all dirt and sweat, she goes to the MikvahMikvaot (the plural) these days are beautiful affairs. Stunning "get ready" rooms and tiled beautifully. Almost like a spa! The bride goes into the Mikvah room and walks into the water. There, she will dunk three times completely (there is an attendant in the room to make sure every hair is submerged) and say a prayer. Once she emerges, it is as if she is a new person... yet again, she has changed states. In the case of a bride, she has gone from an engaged woman to a queen... she is about to be married.Today, many women keep the mitzvah of the mikvah. Even women you would not expect. This is a powerful act that many women identify with.There are some technical things about a Mikvah, see this picture to understand just a piece of it:Modern_mikveh

Auf Ruf?

If you happen to be in Denver, Dan and I hope you can join us on March 2nd at 9:30am at Rodef Shalom for our Auf Ruf.Auf Ruf? What the heck is an Auf Ruf, you ask?reading Torah_THDPRWell, every Saturday Jews read a section of the Torah during services.  The weekly parsha, or Torah portion, is scheduled on a cycle to ensure that the entire Torah is read out loud during the course of one year.When the Torah is read aloud in a synagogue, members of the congregation are called up to say a blessing before and after the reading; being called up to say these blessings is called receiving an aliyah and is a great honor.An auf ruf is the custom of being called up to the Torah for an aliyah, usually the shabbat before the wedding. It is usually the groom, but in our case, we will share in the honor. We will come up to the Torah, say the blessing, the Torah will be read, we will say the next blessing and then the rabbi and congregation will shower us with (preferably soft! wrapped!) candy as a symbol of sweetness and support. The rabbi will then bless the us and our union.Once we have completed the whole service, join us afterwards as Dan's parents have graciously sponsored a kiddush and oneg (meal). There will be delicious food and good company.A special thank you to Michael and Elena Haykin for sponsoring this for us and to Rabbi Gerson and Rodef Shalom for welcoming us into their community.

An old Jewish tradition, that we are skipping

There is an old Jewish tradition that the week prior to the wedding, the chasson (groom) and kallah (bride) don't see each other. In fact, they are even given shomrim (guards) to ensure that they don't run into each other. I have seen this practice when I went to Crown Heights, the headquarters of Chabad Judaism, for my friend's weddings. I even acted as a shomeret (female guard) for one friend (it's a big honor to be asked). Basically, you are their chaperone.A friend of mine in Israel, Chaviva, is getting married tomorrow and she was discussing on her blog that they are not holding to this tradition either. What I found so interesting was the history and details of the halacha (Jewish law) behind this... or really the lack there of. She says:

This custom seems to date back to as early as 1228, but in Jerusalem it was introduced in the early 1700s. The main reasons cited by poskim for why a couple shouldn't see each other in the week leading up to the wedding are that forced separation builds excitement and that it decreases the likelihood of premarital relations (seriously?), but also that it can be a tense period of time in which strife could arise and the wedding could be called off as a result of stress, tension, and arguments (“There is no marriage contract that does not contain a quarrel,” Shabbat 130a). After watching a few episodes of Bridezillas, this makes gobs of sense, but it also doesn't explain why in most religious circles this has become the required "law." Where exactly does it all come from?Let's start with this interesting morsel.

"In a footnote, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan (Made in Heaven, [New York, 1983], p. 67) cites two other works that mention the custom, and then states that the source for the custom may be YD 192:1, the section that deals with dam chimud ... [which is the] concern that meeting the chatan [groom] may cause the kallah [bride]to have a discharge that could invalidate the shivah nekiyim (seven clean days before going to the mikvah)."

Both Rabbi Kaplan and Rabbi Binyomin Forst find this tie suspect at best, because the Talmud requires that upon accepting a marriage proposal or setting a wedding date that she might discharge blood as a result of the excitement (talk about a complete lack of understanding about the female body, am I right?). Even if this were to happen, she's still required to observe seven "clean days" prior to the wedding, so unless she's getting engaged and married seven days later, there's no concern here (also, because, you know, women don't bleed when they get excited).
In Sefer Minhagim: The Book of Chabad-Lubavitch Customs, the footnote simply cites letters from the Rebbe Menachem Mendel Schneerson as the basis for the tradition. However,

"Nitei Gavriel, a recent, comprehensive source of customs, does not mention this practice, but records that around one hundred years ago, there was a custom in Jerusalem of the bride and groom going together to famous rabbis to get their blessings during the week before the wedding (Hilchot Nisuin, p. 55, in the name of Sdei Chemed, Ma’arechet Chatan Vekallah, 22)."

The reality is that halakah requires that a bride and groom must see each other before the wedding, which makes this custom kind of strange even at its very roots. Even Ravs Moshe Feinstein and Aharon Soloveichik advocated for not letting this custom serve as an inconvenience to couples prior to the wedding.

I find this all so fascinating. I watched my friends struggle with this custom but still take it in stride. But remember, their relationships were limited from the start (no touching at all prior to marriage) and their engagements, relatively short. In fact, my friend Rucheli writes on her blog here that she missed her husband to be during that week and missed his council when she needed it but it was more of a pain to drag a shomeret to New Jersey with her for a job interview.While I like the idea that it would be like seeing Dan for the first time on our wedding day when he veils me, I know that it will still feel that way. We will leave each other the night before our wedding to go sleep in separate places. It will be the hardest night for me, not only without the man I love, but because I know I will be in transition. When I wake up in the morning it will be my own personal Yom Kippur. A day that I am intimately connected to HaShem, G-d but also to my husband.I will go to bed a fiancé and wake up a bride.

Ketubah!

We did it! Whew! Pulled the trigger on the not only the ketubah but on the language as well. Harder than I thought it would be.Think about it. You have to buy a piece of art, that is going to hang on your wall forever, that will extol your love for each other (in a non-cheesy way) but that meets the legal requirements of Jewish law so if we ever move to Israel, they believe we are legally married.That's a lot of pressure on one little piece of art!After hours of looking, we chose a paper cut ketubah from Etsy. The Terrace Ketuba by Melanie Dankowicz is beautiful. I would have never thought that I would go for a paper cut ketubah but I love it! Here's an image of it from her shop:

T_D_Ketubah

I think it is stunning and beautiful! Something that I won't be embarrassed to have on my wall 30 years from now and I don't think it will fade either. I hope our kids think it's cool too. :)

As for the language, there are so many different versions. Even if you say "I'm going to be strict and only use the Orthodox version..." The translations into English are very different! The traditional ketubah is written in Aramaic, not Hebrew. I thought that was kinda cool but in the end, we used the orthodox version as a template and added in pieces that fulfilled our vision of Judaism and our relationship. I will share our language with you after the wedding (have to keep somethings a secret!) but I am very happy with it. I accurately describes our roles in our marriage. :)

Check out Melanie's site on Etsy for more paper cuts and AMAZING art work! Click here - MelanieCuts

Kippot Have Arrived!

We just got the kippot for the wedding! It was so exciting to get a huge, heavy box filled hundreds of kippot! This is just one piece we will be giving our guests at the wedding.navy kippah - A1 SkullCap

I was a voracious wedding/bar/bat mitzvah kippah collector when I was younger. We had every color, shape, and material you could imagine. In fact... For my bat mitzvah my grandpa Milton so graciously paid for the kippot as a gift to me... he wanted me to have everything I wanted... even if that meant alternating satin panels of teal and rose... yes, your eyes are not deceiving you... my bat mitzvah kippot were TEAL AND PINK! Oy. My only defense is that it was the early 90's...

Anywho, I shopped around online for the perfect kippah. I found them at A1 Skullcap! Since our colors are navy and yellow, we went with a navy suede with gold imprint... I never dreamed I would do a gold imprint... I seriously dislike gold but... it works! I love them! And I highly doubt our children will tease me for these as badly as they will tease me for my bat mitzvah ones...

Can't wait to share them with our guests.