I type “follow” in the thread of comments in a post now written in the group of secret women I am a member of on Facebook waiting for the wisdom of the masses to wash the torch. Feminism? politics? Maternal complaints? Beach Brass. I have not been there for a long time. I am currently waiting for answers on an important issue raised in the torch: patches of deodorant on black golf and how to get rid of them. Soon a debate develops between Vanish Kalia and Colon Superactive. I feel like I’m learning a lot. Somebody even suggests smearing dish soap. Fieri is the leading brand. I did not like her. Whatever. Then it hits me. Who am I? What am I? Why am I following this post? I do not have black golf. I have not touched the deodorant for a week (maternity leave + the little housekeeper is a dead patient + winter, do the math) and in general my approach to the stains ranges from “you can not see it if you take off glasses, so I can go on wearing it” and “Oh, pajamas new”. But here I am, at the beginning of 2017, Bamba crumbs adorn my robe, the hair is wild and shaggy, and I make licks for Pilates Pilates in Instagram and parenting on Facebook. How did I say a few lines here before – who am I? what am I? What do you want from me, 2017?
I’ll tell you what I want. A little faith. Some false hopes that will make me publicly promise that from now on everything is going to change. Like all my virtual friends (as I said, I did not leave the house for more than a week, let alone meeting people over the age of two, and with the husband sorry) I will publish a list of achievement goals. So no, 2017. I’ve been with you for only a week and have been pinched at hysterical levels. You do not deserve high promises (“I will finish the course in Arabic” “I will submit my script to the committee”) that I will not follow. Let’s take comfort in medium, achievable goals. You can start with removing stains from the black screen. I heard that dish soap works wonders.
Promises to myself for 2017:
- I will plan a vacation for my husband and myself this summer
Inspiration: The Naftali Torch
In fantasy: Naftali is a busy stylist (she is also working weekly for a woman in which I also work with) who maintains a vacancy / work schedule that looks like advertising for anti-aging cream. I swore that if she took another picture in the Caribbean with a cocktail and a flower in her hair, I would burn her coffin.
What will happen in practice: The husband and I will agree that we must leave. We will decide that the toddler and the baby can be left alone with my parents. We will argue about where we will fly and end up sleeping in my family’s living room in Jerusalem. This will be your best vacation ever!
- I will get a kimono
Inspiration: The torch of the miraculous
In fantasy: Miracles is one of those girls who can walk around with the world’s best hair and still stay as light as a fairy. Add to that a sense of natural style and phrases such as “this kimono from some vintage store in Tokyo” and you’ll understand why I loathe her.
What will happen in practice: My affection for Koko’s kimonos has already been documented in the private Enasta and every garment you can throw on sweaters and t-shirts (I almost wrote jeans, but after birth, they jumped me) and to be seen with me as a favorite and enriching my world. Just overdo it with the prints, right? More towards “vintage shop in Tokyo” and I’ll be pleased.
- I’ll add more spices, nuts and seeds to my menu
Inspiration: Liat Lahav’s torch
In fantasy: Here, I live the beautiful and photogenic life, like the fashion editor of Walla Fashion. Celebrates me in Paris, indulges in the Levinsky market and mainly eats healthy and photogenic. Yes, another cinnamon. More walnuts. More flax seeds. More Chia seeds.
What will happen in practice: Another Bamba.
- I’ll have more time for just him and me
Inspiration: Dafna Lustig’s torch
In fantasy: Oh, here’s Daphne and her partner playing in front of the camera, sharing secret jokes with each other. Sharing frozen beer in a European beer city. And she’s so skinny and cute. I can do it, too. All I need is a babysitter, five hours of continuous sleep, another salary and a husband who cooperates.
What will happen: The husband promised that maybe today he would have the strength to see with me chapter three of The Crown. Keep your fingers crossed !!
- I’ll grow my own vegetables. Well, my lettuce.
Inspiration: Avishag Kopelman’s torch
In the fantasy: like Avishag, that three perfect children are hiccuping with village life, half homeschooling and hiking around the country (in an interview I did a few months ago, she also said she did not let her kids see the screens. ) – I will also grow a magical vegetable garden in my yard. That is in my garden. That is, on the balcony above the most sooty avenue in Tel Aviv opposite the taxi station. Kopelman grows tomatoes and lettuce so lightly, how hard can it be?
What will happen in practice: Towards April I will throw my fifth mint and admit defeat.
- I will invest in important produts
The inspiration: Noa Nozik’s torch
In fantasy: I do not really need this toy basket from Express for $17. We do not really have a place to put him down and the little girl is pushing everything I buy her in dollars for a box from Max Stock. I do not have to buy more sailing. I have to be like Noa Nozik. A gifted stylist whose even slippers look perfect.
What will happen in practice: Oh, her socks are cool. I wonder if there are those express owners.
- I will join a supportive and supportive women’s community
The inspiration: Noa Rozin’s torch
In fantasy: I do not want the life of Noa Rozin. Who wants to understand food and write about food and hold a perfect couple and a cute child and dream work and be beautiful and thin and funny? It would make me tired to be perfect like that. I’ll settle for her facial skin. And with her courage to join a women’s trip to Rome where all they did was eat excellent food and run from place to place. And with excellent food, I mean carbohydrates.
What will happen in practice: The husband agreed to see Chapter 3! Prepares carbohydrates.
- I’ll buy myself a bouquet of flowers
Inspiration: Rotem Rachel Chen’s torch
The inspiration: Rotem’s torch, a gifted photographer who recently moved to Paris and from there sends out an arm of magic, makes me want to invest in myself. A little less in the Mani-Pedi and Gvanim section, but more for the soul. That is, buying myself a bouquet of flowers occasionally. What, do I need a man for that? Here, I already did it this year and it was great.
What will happen in practice: I will be stingy in the market and I prefer to invest the money in cucumbers, strawberries or nuts for Shabbat.