Our two seders are over. I have not much to show for it, save for the smile on my face that expresses my delight that this won’t happen again for another year. Truth be told, though, all three of my children love the heck out of Passover. I guess there’s something to be said for that. They get to stay up ridiculously late; think midnight late. They get to eat four bowls of their Zaydie’s famous chicken soup and matzo balls. They get to drink FOUR cups of grape juice. They get to search for the hidden afikoman and get presents for finding it. They get to participate – reading, singing, proving that I get something out of my expensive tuition, pulling out the bag full of plagues, complete with hail and locust and boil finger puppets and jumping frogs and a cool turning-the-water-to-blood trick that involves some water and some red jello mix.

Speaking of plagues, though… as it hailed all the livelong day yesterday, forcing the entire Martell family to stay indoors without the use of any electronics, I thought to myself, “Hey! The irony isn’t lost on me here! It’s just like the story of Passover! I wonder what other new and exciting plagues are afoot for me this year!” And since someone at the seder mentioned that the Haggadah is a living and breathing document, I think I’ll add my own plagues to the mix.

1. Hail. See also: Snowstorm in April. See also: 45km/hour winds. Yes. I realize that hail is already on there, but really? It’s the end of April. I’m going stir crazy over here. I’m sure if the sun came out I’d leave so quickly that I, too, wouldn’t have time to bake my bread.

2. Bloateous maxmimus and the scorching case of the Passover gut rot. I had been doing such a great job of eating well and taking care of my body recently. But here I am at my mom’s house in Milwaukee, with an elliptical trainer that doesn’t work and a gut full of matzah and sacramental wine and kosher-for-passover diet coke, and let’s just say that the food baby I am carrying is large enough to be twins. Possibly even triplets. My zippers won’t zip and my buttons don’t button. Next year I vote for a PAJAMA SEDER so I don’t have to worry about fitting into my clothing at all.

3. Sharing a twin bed with a grown man who likes to play games on the ipad and listen to Howard Stern when you are trying to sleep. This, friends, is a nightmare. Not only do I have gut rot, but I also have its even stepsister, back rot. And, the real kicker here is that not only am I sharing a bed with my husband, but I am also sharing a room with my kindergartener. The two twin beds are pushed together and I’ll just let you guess who is spending her night between the crack of the two beds, feeling the beds separate from under her aching body. Tonight I’m sleeping on the floor.

4. Passover coffee. The rabbis have a super awesome time messing with my head each year and make seemingly arbitrary decisions about what you can and can’t eat or drink on Passover. For instance, Toronto rabbis are all “quinoa and diet coke are totally not allowed!” and yet the rabbis in Chicago are totally down with these two foods. But, perhaps my biggest beef is when they say something is okay and then retract it the next year. Seriously?! You think the Jews were worried about Starbucks coffee when they were fleeing Pharaoh and servitude in Egypt? Besides, they would have had more than enough time to make a VIA to-go-packet. I’m just saying. So, even though there’s absolutely NOTHING not kosher for Passover about coffee…I am still drinking something repulsive.

5. Have I mentioned the gut rot? Only, gulp, 6 more days of eating like this. Whee!