Wonderful news! I submitted a short piece to “Mishapacha” magazine (a pretty well-known Jewish publication) and I’ve just been told that it’s going to be published! I don’t know any of the details about when it’s going to print but as soon as I find out I will let everyone know.

Not to brag, but while the East Coast is getting slammed by a full-scale blizzard, we here in Jerusalem have been enjoying some of the most beautiful weather we’ve had in months. One could say it was almost Spring-like, but one wouldn’t want to rub it in. It’s been so pleasant that while riding on the bus with Shuie yesterday, I felt an uplift of spirit that prompted me to second-guess our decision to go home. My head started swirling with maybes and what-ifs that eventually got me so stressed out I felt like I needed electro-shock treatment. So much for enjoying the weather.

Either way, we have made our decision and now the challenge is to accept it, embrace it and do it b’simcha (with joy), even though there will always be maybes and what-ifs tagging along. My good friend Billy says that sometimes the line between My Will and Gd’s Will is so blurry that sometimes you have to just make a decision and do the best you can with what you’ve got. I would say that in this case, I can completely relate. I go back and forth about making the “right” decision, fearful that I will make some kind of monumental mistake, either giving up a once-in-a-lifetime experience or setting myself up for a potential stressful and isolating pregnancy, while shouldering the pressure of trying to make it here financially. So even though things are not 100% clear, it is time for action, and in this case that means going home. I can continue learning in the States, maybe not in such a structured way, but it is possible. Right now, my focus has to be on having a safe and happy rest of my pregnancy and prepare to bring LB into the world.

Speaking of the pregnancy, my husband and I went to Misgav Ladach hospital yesterday for our second-trimester ultrasound, where they told us that they had booked us for the wrong appointment and could not see us. Being my hormonal, fiery self, I was pretty ticked that we had to haul all the way to Katamon just to be turned away. As I launched into a mini temper-tantrum, Shuie, ever the angel, took my hand and whispered, “Ein Od Milvado”, (”There is nothing besides Him [Gd]), assuring me that everything happens for a reason. In my art class yesterday, my friend Idit told me that our husband’s voices are the voice of Gd, meaning that Gd speaks through our life partners to help guide us and give us clarity. In that moment my husband’s voice spoke the truth with equanimity and love, but I had only one response for him: “Shut up, Shuie”. Ah, the delights of pregnancy…

My husband’s voice also gave me another slice of truth the other night when we sat down to write our plan for when we get home. I brought up the possibility of taking the job in Cambridge, the one that would call for a 3-hour commute each day. On a piece of paper, in bold writing and highlighted by a dark square, Shuie wrote, “COMMUTING IS NOT AN OPTION”. In my head, I think I can do everything. I think I can be five months pregnant, care for a toddler and commute 3 hours a day while working a demanding job. In reality, that is actually insane. I got for a five-minute walk and I am ready to sleep the rest of the day away. But every time I tried to argue the possibility, Shuie referred me back to the square: “COMMUTING IS NOT AN OPTION”. This is really hard for me to accept, but accept it I must. Harrumph.

Yonah turned 16 months old yesterday and has graduated from “Cutest Kid in the World” to “Cutest Kid in the History of Mankind”. Along with his penchant for reading — he asks very nicely, saying, “Book”, “Read” and “Please” — Yonah now wears multiple hats at once (this is not a metaphor), walks all over the place and gives his Mommy delicious baby kisses. He also loves to dance and can recognize his favorite song, “Popcorn!” by saying, “Pop! Pop!” as soon as it starts. Yonah loves Elmo; every afternoon Mommy lets him watch 10-15 minutes of Sesame Street so he can have his fix. His hair is so long now it hangs in his eyes so his father went out and got him special clips that have a soccer ball and a dreidel on them because I was adamant about him not looking like a girl. Of course, Yonah pulls them out the minute I put them in, but if I grab his hands and sing him a song, sometimes I can distract him long enough that he’ll forget I put it in (Listen, you gotta do what you gotta do). Despite his chronic cold, Yonah is almost always in good cheer (unless Mommy is on the phone and can’t pay attention to him). I think he is going to make a FANTASTIC big brother.

It is now 10 a.m. and I have begun cleaning out the fridge. It’s amazing what kinds of things end up living in there when you don’t stay on top of things. I still catch myself in those moments when I find myself asking, “Who’s going to take care of…?” and then I remember, “Oh, right. I’m the Mom. I guess I’m supposed to do it”. The art of running a household is a very subtle yet demanding one, tackling an ever-growing list of household chores, keeping bellies full, clothes clean, children and husbands happy, cabinets stocked. It’s kind of like playing a constant game of whack-a-mole (And that’s if a mother is blessed with the ability to devote her energy solely to her home. Add a job on top of that and we’re talking Wonder Woman). For the ones who aren’t running the show, it may seem as if these things just magically accomplish themselves. My mother, for example, was always doing, but it never registered with me that she was actually keeping everything together. Now that I’m on the other side, the truth has become as clear as day: If Mama don’t do it, it don’t get done.