I’m currently sitting in K’s crib — alongside a red, puffy and screeching baby — taking a few bites of the Passover supper that R and Mr. T just delivered to me. Poor K is utterly and completely inconsolable. Our impromptu Pesach (Passover) Seder generated a flailing baby throwing food and water all over our Seder plate (and everything else) and a mommy leaving the table with said baby in the middle of singing Dayenu.
At least I was able to whisk up some bomb charoset and highly addictive chocolate matzoh toffee before the floodgates broke open. Charoset is one of my all-time favorite dishes, and I’m actually unsure why I don’t make and eat it year round since its staple ingredients (apples, walnuts, honey) are among my favorite foods. Today I used this recipe, sans the red wine. For the chocolate matzoh toffee (often dubbed “matzoh crack”), I turned to Andrew Zimmern — who isn’t bashful about butter, by the way. I’ve already consumed more than my fair share and it’s not even dark out! It’s the stuff sweet dreams are made of and I just can’t get enough. TRY IT! Use this recipe if you feel extra indulgent (I omitted the pecans).
Now I’m out of the crib, wearing K in her old Ergo (I thought maybe the well-loved status of this carrier would be more comforting than our beautiful new one). Poor bubala is in the midst of an utter tantrum spawned from discomfort. We’re standing next to a running shower in an attempt to calm her down. She’s refused food, drink, and mommy milk throughout the day, but I finally got her to nurse! 👏🙌🏻 And FYI, I’m not callously writing while she cries, but rather penning my thoughts on my phone in those rare between-cries moments.
The purpose of this post was to wish all you readers a bountiful Springtime. Enjoy your Passover and Easter celebrations for me! We’ll have to resume our ceremonious appreciation of Spring later in the week by decorating and hiding Easter eggs. I’m trying to formulate a hybridic activity that colorfully acknowledges both Passover and Easter. To be continued…
Tonight is a superb demonstration of one of motherhood’s truths: your day will never pan out exactly as you planned it. But with any luck, you can keep your head above water and your babies safe as you lovingly (psychotically?) plow through this fast-passed season of life.