Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The Beginning of an Era

Tonight is the beginning of an era.

Tonight, I will take Shana to Erev Shira. Erev Shira is Hebrew for "Night of Song". It's the name for the performance that the girls at each Jewish school in the Chicagoland area put on every year. It is the night that never ends listening to tone deaf children sing and watching kids with two left feet dance a lovely night to enjoy your daughters and nieces as they perform.

At my kids' school, the girls start in third grade. My niece Miri is in third grade. I did a little calculating. Miri is in third grade. My youngest niece Nava is almost three. That means that we have seventeen years of Erev Shira ahead of us. I figured this out because we are now starting Erev Shiras, but Nava won't start hers for seven years. But we'll be going those seven years thanks to Miri, Shana, and Tari. That means we have those seven years plus the ten years until Nava finishes. Total is seventeen years of hell Erev Shira. Oh and if there are any more girls born, which is distinctly possible, we're looking at over twenty years of Erev Shira. I will pay off my house before I finish going to Erev Shira. And, heck, if Miri gets married young, by the time we're done with nieces' and daughters' Erev Shiras, we could start right back up with granddaughters and great nieces! Oh. My. G-d.

Now, now, lest you all think I'm a really meany, I will love Erev Shira. Miri is a joy, she is the darned cutest sweetest kid ever. I love her. And therefore I will love Erev Shira. The same will be said for all Erev Shiras to come. But yikes! Seventeen years? Oy.

And let me tell you, Erev Shira is not for the faint of heart. Here are the rules I have been told:
  • change your daughter before you take her to be in the audience. Never, never let her go in her uniform.
  • preferably put her in her cutest, most fashionable outfit. Brand names a plus.
  • make sure her hair is done.
  • make sure you look fab.
  • never, ever wear a tichel or snood. For my non Orthodox readers, enjoy the visual aids.

  • NO GIFTS! Previously, people would bring all manner of presents for their little actresses-flowers, balloons, jewelery, electronics. I'm not joking. So there is a strict rule. No gifts. Good thing I asked or else I would be the one there with a huge bouquet of flowers for Miri.

Wish us luck tonight. We're going to need it.


Shosh said...

Erev Shira = CUTE!
All those rules (minus the gift one) = NOT CUTE

Mom said...

I don't think you included the high school years in your calculations of Erev Shira so you have to add 4 more years to the total!
FYI, I love the "pantry" shevles. You inspired me and I now have a shevling unit for groceries etc. in the basement.

Stephanie said...

isn't a snood the thing they made in the lorax where they killed all the trees?

i'm just saying.

DESJ and Company said...

actually, once they start ES they are doing it for 10 years 3rd-12th grades) Nava will be in 3rd grade in seven years. Therefore it's 17 years.
Trust me.I've spent time figuring this out.

DESJ and Company said...

You're a funny girl, Steph.

Rach said...

phew, I'm going with my mother in law and without daughters so I think I'm safe- any rules I should know about in that context? Can I wear clothing from the thrift store as long as it's brand names?

Shira said...

That's hilarious. My mom hated Erev Shira too.

elana said...

i was just thinking about this today cuz im going for my neices tonight as well. im trying to convince my girls that they dont have to go to the one in their school until they are actually in it. can u imagine 2 grade school erev shiras a year times i dont know how many years??? seriously though i enjoy seeing the kids and hey its a night out that i can leave my kids with dh!

Yaffa/Yitz said...

Shira's mom passed along her hatred of Erev Shira to her daughter, yours truly (former lurker, loyal reader). Whenever people ask me why I don't go to the charity fundraiser plays, I always say that I got it all out of my system in high school. I'm happy to give charity, but asking me to sit through an amateur play is too much of a sacrifice.