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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Wait? Was that my WHOLE weekend?

Is this really it? 10PM on Sunday night already? It can’t be, my weekend can’t be over yet. I’ve barely done anything. That isn’t true, I’ve done plenty and had a good time doing it–but how can it be time for bed and work again?

Yesterday was packed–I spent the morning shopping and drinking coffee with Cara from Proceed with Cara. Then last night I saw Weather Man and ate at PF Changs with my neighbors. This morning I hopped on the train and went to Alamo shoes and returned my Earth Shoes, then raced home for a shower and went to Ben’s bris.

I’m about to sound heartless, but read me out. I think there is part of us that is so afraid of circumcision, that we (even we jews) automatically cringe and cry and hide our eyes. When the truth is, that the mohel was done with the circumcision part before Greg, the father, had even finished the prayer giving the mohel permission to do the circumcision on his behalf. When Greg said Amen, the mohel said, “It’s over. I’ve been done for ages.” But really, it was fast, seconds not minutes, not hours. Seconds. And Ben stopped crying when the prayer was over–I think because he got his diaper back on and was getting warm again.

Is that to say I won’t be cringing and crying when/if it is my own son? Hell no, but as a friend of the baby–it wasn’t the barbaric ritual that some would say it is. The mohel has done something like 5,000 of these. He knew what he was doing. And it was CERTAINLY better than a hospital circumcision where the parents are far away and can’t take him into their arms within a minute.

Now I’ve seen almost everything–a bris, shiva, baby namings, bar/bat mitzvahs, confirmation, shabbat, all the holidays–in the jewish life cycle. With the exception of a wedding–but I did have the wedding in In Her Shoes, so I think that counts.

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