Kutnick's Korner

I was listing to a podcast yesterday (Death Sex & Money). It was their 1 year anniversary episode and part of it was dedicated to capturing peoples' answers to the below question: "What has changed in your life in the past year?" And, I listened to what people had to say. Some fell in love. Some got married. Some got divorced. Some lost someone special. Some had babies. Some moved. Some were happier than a year ago. Some were now more depressed. But, regardless-nothing stayed exactly the same. 365 days is a significant amount of time to reflect back. And, then this morning when I looked at my husband and realized that it is June 12th....I started thinking about myself. Not where I was 1 year ago...but where I was 17 years ago. June 12, 1998. On Friday, June 12th, 1998 my then boyfriend...now husband proposed. Looking out at Lake Michigan. Dinner at Spiaggia later that evening. It was magical. I remember it so very clearly. That was 17 years ago. Today. So mu

Just about a month ago, I said goodbye to the house I grew up in. I really don't mean to be overly dramatic about it, but it's kind of a big deal to me. Some of my belongings came with me to college in 1991. And, others have trickled to Chicagoland in boxes over the years. Yearbooks, trophies, collectibles....etc. And, very few things remained in "my growing up house". I always had a green and white stuffed turtle in my room. She sat wherever she was placed. Sometimes on a rocking chair. Sometimes on a shelf. But, regardless she was always there. And, truthfully, I never really thought about her all that much. She was an ornament. A part of my room. But, when I was in LA last month I confiscated her because she needed to be with my daughter. It's like I didn't have a choice. It had to happen. So, she got shipped home. I brought her to the dry cleaners to get fixed and cleaned. And, yesterday I picked up the turtle. I was literally beaming (the lady at the

The front doors of my parent's house have been a integral place of capturing photographic moments for over 40 years. They are doors. Every house has them. But, for some odd reason...these have been very special. So, why am I now thinking and even writing about the front doors of my parent's house? Good question. There are two places that I call home. My house. Where I live with my husband and two children in the northern suburbs of Chicago. And, my parent's house in Sherman Oaks, California. Technically my parent's house isn't my house anymore. But, it's home. It's where I grew up. Where I had multiple phone conversations with friends, where I did my homework for years, where I fought with my parents as a teenager, where I had sleepovers as a child and where I slept the night before I got married. Home. Where I lived from 1973-1991 until I ventured off to college. It's not very often that a 41 year old's parents live in the same house for 40+

Picture a snow globe. I saw everything that was going on inside of it... but I wasn’t a part of it because I was on the outside looking in. That’s how I've always felt about Judaism. I was going to take on this Bat Mitzvah challenge in my 50s as an empty nester. But, when I spoke to Rabbi Kedar at a Lincolnshire party a few years ago-she encouraged me to do this BEFORE my kids. I didn’t want to steal their thunder, I told her. And, she said one of the best things I can do for my kids is set an example. And, not surprisingly, she was right. My family has heard me chanting my Torah Portion over and over again (they all know it now). They have occasionally come with me to Saturday Kol Shabbat services (my favorite service!). My kids know that on Tuesdays I won’t be home at 7pm when they get home from Hebrew school... Because I am at Hebrew School! My son and I even have the same teacher. They've seen my dedication, I am so glad it taught my kids a little something about accou