My ,iiitter Datili i5 5° ft: I don't know what's happening to Stacy, my daughter. She is so thin, and she hardly eats anything lately, at least not in front of me. At dinner, she just picks or pushes the food around on her plate. If I ask her why she's not eating, she'll say she had a big lunch or too many after-school snacks, but I don't believe her. She wouldn't be losing so much weight if that were true. Maybe it's my fault for urging her to go on a diet before her Bat Mitzvah. I shouldn't have said anything, but she had gained ten pounds over the summer and was having trouble finding a dress she liked in her size. After she lost the weight she found the perfect dress, and she looked so beautiful and happy at her party. But things changed. She started complaining about being fat, even though she was a size 6! Nothing I said could convince her otherwise. She looks in the mirror with a disgusted expression on her face, as though she can't stand what she sees. Her friend Emily when she told her she was getting too thin, but she thought Emily was just jealous and wanted her to gain back the weight she lost. When I made her favorite chocolate cake last week, she looked at it with an expression that was almost fearful. Like the cake was her enemy. Could she have an eating disorder? Her father and I keep telling her she is beautiful, but it doesn't seem to help. I'm worried she'll get sick and end up in the hospital, like those girls I've read about. Or maybe I'm overreacting; lots of teenage girls are obsessed with their appearances. I don't know what to do. 1,54 bad is /he call one yva dons make. , An initiative of the Schulman Fund FRENOSHP SUPPORT & FRIENDSHIP FOR ALL 248-788-8888 rabbiyarden@friendshipcircle.org thefriendshiphouse.org 1991360 28 March 26 • 2015 "Done right, there are virtually no downsides to Pesach cleaning." Elizabeth Applebaum I Special to the Jewish News eral. "We're all going to clean up!" I call, equal parts false enthusiasm, pleading and commanding. hen my children were little, There are no words to describe my our pre-Pesach prepara- teens' joy at hearing this call to action. tion often included planting But here's the thing: Done right, there strange stuff that would are virtually no downsides to turn into a magic tree. We Pesach cleaning. It's nice to Above: Talya and carried our last bits of cha- have the house tidy. You get Adina Applebaum metz — V4 cup of flour, a rid of a lot of junk you did help prepare the teaspoon of yeast, leftover not need but likely otherwise family kitchen for vinegar — outside and then would have ignored. Everyone Passover. poured everything into a pitches in to get the job done. hole. It's work where you can see "Let's see what grows there," I would immediate results. say. Actually, though, the most important The next morning, the children would thing about this cleaning is that it's part wake to find a branch stuck into the hole: of preparing for something grand. It was a tree that had grown cotton candy I would argue that Pesach is the most packets and Dr. Pepper-flavored lip balm, important Jewish holiday because the tiny toys and bubble gum. central theme is our founding as a peo- That was one way of cleaning up, and ple. Once we were a group of disparate it was certainly one of the more enjoy- souls, wandering physically and spiritu- able ones. Then there were the chores ally, and then God formed a nation. like carrying a lot of dishes downstairs, Picture a wedding. Could you just scrubbing out pantries and cabinets, end- wake up and put on a dress and be done less vacuuming. These were ghastly, and with it? Perhaps. But there is something there is no fun angle to any one. right and perfect about choosing your My memories of cleaning for Passover own dress, finding flowers for the table, begin in the Missouri house where I grew deciding on dinner and then coming up, where the absolute worst chore, my to the chuppah. A celebration isn't just mother felt, was dealing with the refrig- about showing up; it's about helping erator. Today, in my home in Oak Park, make the experience. It's about taking soon after Purim ends, I become the gen- the time to prepare for something that is W valuable and deserves your energy and effort. I clean not just with my immediate family but with my entire community. I love it when all the doors are open, and I see my neighbors shaking out their rugs and vacuuming their cars. I love going to grocery stores and seeing what holi- day foods others are buying, and I love looking through cookbooks to find new Pesach recipes. Initially, the cleaning means doing bits here and there: one kitchen cabinet and then a closet or two. I absolutely procrastinate on the projects that are the worst: the pantry and (yes, Mother was correct) the fridge. I've found that it's best to listen to loud music while taking out all the flour and cans and chia seeds that I never figured out how to use but I'm sure I'm living healthier by just having them there. A dose of Yes singing "Owner of a Lonely Heart" always helps me get through the pain of dealing with the six different containers of open pasta and four tablespoons of five different kinds of cereal. Over the years, I've learned that it's essential not to become a cleaning wacko. One time the day before the seder, I took all our dining room chairs outside and washed them. But — and you will figure out the problem immediately — the seats bore permanent padding. About an hour into our seder my husband said, "Why do I feel like I'm sitting on something wet?" All those weeks of cleaning leave me tired but also excited. Time for a brief rest — a book and Starbucks — and then it's finally the big night. There's the taste of matzah, staying up ridiculously late, the googly-eyed plastic frogs and other plagues at our table. My son grates the horseradish and makes the charoset, a gloriously fragrant mix of apples and cinnamon and nuts. There is Elijah's Cup, which we will all agree seems to be missing some wine once morning comes. We each have our own favorite Haggadah. Mine was published by Shulsinger Brothers in 1949, and the art — rich and dark and mysterious, full of hidden stories and secrets — never fails to mesmerize me. And now, the sweet irony of it! The morning after the seder our home is a mess. Matzah crumbs everywhere, plastic plagues on the floor, wine spilled on the tablecloth and a zillion dishes to wash. One kid asleep on the couch; another in bed but still in her clothes. It is abso- lutely, breathtakingly beautiful. ❑