Official complaints have been staged due to my month-and-a-half-long blog “hiatus”. I assure you, people, that I have not spent the past almost-two months chilling out beachside or contemplating cloud formations. Mama’s a working woman now, which means between shuttling the kiddies to daycare and school, working, running errands, being social and (barely) keeping my house together, my free time has dwindled to the 10 seconds from Akiva’s crib to my bed, when he’s finally asleep and I can pass out.

Not that I’m complaining. I am beyond thrilled with life in Cherry Hill. The people here have been nothing but warm and welcoming, and it feels like we’ve been living here for years. I’m still getting used to the idea that we’re going to sticking around in one place for a while — my faithful readers know that at this time last year I was in Israel, one more knot in my world traveler’s belt — and I have to “Whoa, Nellie!” my brain at least once a day to prevent it from galloping off to plan the next big adventure. Everyday life can be an adventure, too, if I let it.

A few weeks back, my dear friend Chani was here with her family for lunch and sampled some of my Apple Challah, baked fresh for Rosh Hashana. “Oh my G-d,” she purred between bites. “I would pay for this.” And so was the beginning of my new business: Debbi’s Challah. Using my mother’s beloved recipe, I am now supplying challahs for holiday and Shabbos tables all over Cherry Hill. At least one night a week will find me pounding and kneading, shaping and baking away; last week I was so busy with challahs I turned around the night before Sukkot and realized that I’d been in the kitchen all week, but we had nothing to eat for the holiday (thankfully, you’re allowed to cook on Yom Tov!) It’s a delightful thing, making some extra cash doing something I love, and every time I sell one, I feel like Mom is winking at me. If you’re in the South Jersey/Metro Philly area and want to taste the love, check out my Facebook page for info (Shuie is building the website, to be up soon!).

Akiva is currently rocking out on his belly, wriggling his chubby legs like a fish. Kivi is almost 5 months old now (!) and is sweeter than sweet. Except for a not-so-fun croup episode which landed us in the E.R. at 5 a.m., Kivi has been thriving. Like his brother, he’s a hungry guy that my body can’t keep up with; my milk supply quickly went from main course to appetizer to last resort. I still wrestle with guilt over transitioning him to formula, but he’s doing so well I try to let it go. Recent reports of a bettle infestation in Similac was beyond unsettling (maybe that’s why they charge so much for it!); so I’m relieved I switched to the generic brand a while back.

Mr. Yonah is LOVING school. His teacher, Mrs. Weiss, is fabulous and he transitioned into life without 24-hour-Mom beautifully (if he wasn’t so happy, I might need some ego stroking), to the point where I bring him into his class and he gives me a quick kiss and takes off with barely a “Peace out, Mama,” before heading for the play kitchen. He comes home singing songs from school and bringing me various glittery/watercolory/markery art projects (the latest is a painted, glittered pine cone), with stains on his clothes to match. Mama is very proud of her little Van Gogh; we have enough material now to turn our fridge into a mini-Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The job is really nice. I’m enjoying working in a school and not having to teach anyone, and being appreciated for my creativity. I still go back and forth about whether or not it’s good for me to be away from my babies, but when you gotta do what you gotta do, it makes the choice a lot easier. For today, I’m grateful to have a roof over my head, a fridge full of food, two healthy, clothed kids, a husband who adores me and an actual, grown-up life. It’s not always perfect, pretty or fun — try changing puked-on sheets at 4 a.m. — but all in all I’d say I’ve got it pretty good.

In other news, Dad got married about a month ago. I would be lying if I said it was a fun night for me, because it wasn’t. In fact, I would say that I didn’t really understand that my mother wasn’t coming back until I saw my father under the Chuppah with his new bride walking around him. It felt like I was watching my mother die all over again. Like mine, Dad’s life has gone through a lot of changes in a very short period of time, and I hope that he’s as happy on the other side as I am.

Tomorrow night is the last round of high holidays for this year, the tail end of Sukkot and Simchat Torah, which marks the reading of the last portion of the 5 books of Moses, only to begin again the following day with Bereishis, Genesis. In this time of new beginnings, a new year, a new start, I hope we all have the chance to create the lives we dream of, slowly but surely, one day at a time.