When you look in the mirror what do you see? You see someone who has figured out that you need eight hours of sleep to function, someone who knows to avoid Great Aunt Gertrude at family simchas so as not to be irritable for a week, someone who has learned to refuse a coworker’s request even though you might want to scream. In short, you are a person who knows how to manage anger, frustration, and hurt better than you used to.

Now look at a child. Children also feel anger, frustration, and boredom, but they haven’t yet had the chance to learn the tools to deal with these big emotions. To top it off, they are surrounded by people who think that they should already know them.

After a super-long summer, winter hit with a bang. (Arctic winds are no joke.) What to do about dinner, when all you want to do is curl up under a blanket after coming in from the cold? (Okay, okay, so we don’t feel like cooking in the summer, either.) Plan easy meals, that’s what! The obvious answer is to shlep out the crock pot during the week. It’s good for more than cholent. Just throw some frozen cutlets into it in the morning – don’t forget to plug it in! – and come home to the aroma of a delicious chicken dinner when you and the kids walk through the door in the afternoon! Plus, there’s another quick-and-easy dinner technique that I just learned about, called sheet pan cooking. Read on!

Anxiety seems to be much more prevalent in modern times than it was in previous generations. Some argue that one of the factors causing this is the number of choices we have on a daily basis. Living in a shtetl with few people, few stores, and few outlets can feel comfortable. It means our lives are simpler and require less decision making. There is less to worry about. In addition, we basically knew ahead of time how our lives would play out, at least regarding those aspects over which we had control. We knew where we would live, what occupation we would follow, how we would eat, where we would go to shul, and where our children would go to school. Today, our choices about all these aspects of life are much broader. Unfortunately, when a person is inundated with options and, thus, decisions, it can trigger anxiety. This can be true even regarding small decisions.

Have you ever heard of a tune entitled “Que Sera Sera”? It was popularized by a singer named Doris Day. The refrain goes like this:

Last year, on the first night of Chol Hamoed Sukkos, an intense storm cast five bolts of lightning into the field behind my house. One of them traveled underground, under my neighbor’s house, and slammed through the solid metal cover of my fuse box, starting a fire in my basement. It sounded like a bomb had hit the house. People down the block told me later that they had felt their houses shake from the impact. I was home with my younger four children, while my husband was at shul with my older boys.

We all froze.

Recovering, I told my kids that it sounded like a transformer blew really close by. I didn’t realize at the time that a force of immense power and hotter than the surface of the sun had just penetrated my home.

Jewish comedy can be traced back much further than the Catskills’ Borsht Belt, where many prominent comedians began their careers between the 1920s to the 1970s. In fact, comedy is actually mentioned in the Torah. The Gemara [Ta’anis 22a] refers to two professional jesters who were – they earned the World to Come through comedy. When they saw people who were depressed, they cheered them up, and when they saw two people quarrelling, they tried to make peace between them. Yet rarely do we come across people, especially in our greater Orthodox community, who have made comedy their profession. Luckily for me, however, I happen to know a few of them.

When I was teaching Chumash, I noticed a disturbing trend. Some students were skilled learners and enjoyed learning anything related to Torah. Others were unsuccessful and also had a negative attitude toward their Torah learning. The gap in skills and attitudes between successful and unsuccessful students grew greater and greater each year of school. I once heard an alarming phrase: If a student dislikes math class, they will hate math. If they dislike their Torah classes, they will hate Yiddishkeit. The responsibility to make sure all students are successful is huge.

My students would look at a pasuk (verse) and quit. I needed to reach them before they got to that frustration point. Literacy research states that if a student recognizes fewer than 85 percent of words and comprehends less than 50 percent of a text, he or she will get frustrated unless motivated or supported. Frustration leads to giving up. The question became how I could help students stay above their frustration level when learning Torah.

When I was growing up, my mom used to get up crazy-early on Thanksgiving morning and start cooking the turkey. While the turkey was in the oven, she made the corn, broccoli, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and more on the stove top. My aunts and uncles would come over, and we children would do an arts and crafts project at the table. Then we’d all sit around the table and say what we were thankful for before eating a crazy amount of food. My father (may his neshama be blessed) used to mix his food together so that the mashed potatoes, corn, and cranberries, topped off with the turkey, formed a huge pile, an amalgamation of the different flavors and textures. To this day, that’s one of my favorite things to do, too. Thanksgiving with family and friends close by, laughing and eating, is my kind of holiday.

There are many areas in which the concept of rotation, exchange, or substitution has been shown to have positive benefits. For example, we learn about crop rotation in social studies, where the goal is to help maintain the balance of nutrients for healthy soil. One of the rules is “to rotate plant families from one season to the next so that related crops are not planted in the same spot more often than every three years or so.” Combine this with the concept that “it takes a village to raise a child,” and the text books could read, “One of the rules is to rotate members of families from one season to the next, so related children are not planted in the same spot more often than every three years or so.” You see what we have here? A survival technique for parents across the globe!

David Rosen’s family room seemed typical. Actually, I discovered, it is a treasure trove containing 47 years of research into Torah sources, research from which he gleans amazing anecdotes and extraordinarily obscure historical facts. As interesting as David’s ongoing endeavor is, it is even more astonishing considering that he has suffered from severe chronic pain, 24/7, for the last 25 years.

David Rosen’s passion for Jewish history began when he was a 16-year-old tenth grader in 1972. It bothered him that he did not know anything about Jewish history – including the churban (destruction) of the first and second Temples, the Rishonim and Achronim, the Geonim, the miracles of Chanukah and Purim, and the kingdoms of Beis Yehuda and Beis Yisrael.