4 states. 1 province.

15 tolls.

2 bowls of chicken noodle and matzo ball soup.

2 Super Targets.

1 religion throwdown with a complete stranger. (That was fun.) It started when I was told that I need to have TWO ovens or I need to SELF-CLEAN my oven between cooking something that is meat and something that has dairy in it. Oh my god, I am not even going to get started on this…

187 performances of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

28 melty bead projects ironed.

1 traffic jam.

3 comments about my weight.

1 comment about my hair.

4 comments about my husband’s hair.

0 comments about my children’s hair.

7 pieces of stuffing kugel.

11 bathroom stops.

6 slices of cake.

114 kisses given to the candy man in exchange for 114 candies.

6 politically-filled meals.

1 Harry Potter book finished (#6)

18 pieces of challah and honey.

1 pair of ruby red slippers bought…just in case. (Auditions are tomorrow. Fingers crossed please.)

7 hours in synagogue.

5 coats forgotten in Toronto.

3 straight days of rain.

2.5 days with @kristabella.

11 boxes of American cereals.

2 pieces of Missoni for Target pieces purchased. Neither one is for me.

0 sleep-ins.

1 nap.

1 morning of FROST.

84 games of Settlers of Catan and Settlers of America.

Happy Rosh Hashanah to me.

Truth be told, the last few days have been such a blur. We piled our pajama-d muffins into the car at 6am on Wednesday morning—after a stressful two days of trying to fit a tremendous amount of work into just two short days (7 blog posts, 5 slideshows, 1 newsletter OH MY!) and an attempt to pack up the five of us (plus a dog!)—and arrived minutes before the holiday began. We didn’t even have time to shower. I guess that’s what happens when you stop several times to pee and you force your family to stop at Target and then you get stuck on a toll road behind trucks that are moving an entire bridge. Seriously, Indiana, who moves a BRIDGE in the middle of the day on a Wednesday?

When my family gets together, I can count on at least two things happening: 1. my mother will make a comment about my hair and 2. my mother will attempt to fix my bra straps. Both of these things happened, obviously, along with all of the other things that I can count on…We will talk about my baby brother’s love life. We will talk about THE PACKERS. We will talk about hoarding and why there are still 96 scary clown-faced dolls in my 37-year-old sister’s room. We will play cards and Catan. We will EAT A LOT OF BAKED GOODS. We will spend a lot of time with family and people who are like family and we will eat a lot of meals and talk about politics. We will let the kids stay up too late and we will let them sing too many songs. We will forget that the closest thing to alcohol in my mom’s house is Kedem Grape Juice. We will play Spit and with melty beads. We will forget to bring clothing that is warm enough.

It’s always too short. It’s always too hectic. It’s always too full of eating. It’s always too many days of being unplugged and not being able to use electronics. It’s always slightly tense, slightly tiring, slightly insane.

It simultaneously makes me want to live in Milwaukee and makes me glad I don’t live in Milwaukee.

It’s always exactly how it should be.

I can’t wait for Passover.