I’m slowly coming out of the three week blur called Pesach. The calendar is deceiving; it makes Pesach look like a one week holiday. But as any mom can attest, it’s way longer than that.
And I loved every minute of it.
Every minute of the cleaning, hosting, cooking, delegating, organizing, shopping and peeling, just to name a few.
I always loved Pesach. As a kid, it was magical. The kitchen transformed; nothing was regular.
I was never the biggest fan of Pesach food, and I’m still not, but I loved the atmosphere. I loved getting together with all the cousins, aunts and uncles at my grandparents house, filling every nook and cranny with blankets and pillows for everyone to sleep; more people in the house than I’m sure were legally allowed. Lots of kids, noise and more noise.
I loved it all.
Now, finishing my 8th year of “making” my own Pesach, my Pesach cabinet has grown exponentially from the original knife, cutting board and tea kettle.. And somewhere along the way, as the lists and responsibilities grew, that love for Pesach got a little less natural and bit watered down…
And so I made some changes.
Each year, before the mile long lists begin to take shape, I focus all my energy on one thing and one thing only:
To love Pesach.
I spend a whole week mentally going through the Pesach motions and do everything I can to cement it all with a strong love for the beautiful week of celebration.
And so when somewhere between preparing chicken #19, potato kugel #7 and setting the table the exhaustion, overwhelming-ness, noise level and sleep deprivation hit all at the same time, I can still smile and love Pesach.
When every last of the 18 pillows I own, plus the 9 new ones my husband had to run to Walmart to buy before the guests arrived (all my kids insist on sleeping with two each…) I loved it all.
When the kitchen was strewn with half eaten yogurts, eggshells and lady finger crumbs, I loved it all.
When I was preparing food for three different simultaneous seders, my head spinning as I labeled each container of potatoes, onions and eggs to make sure they ended up in the right place, I loved it all.
When I made a dash around the house, handing out clean, new white shirts to all the boys to wear to the community seder, and then I got 7 minutes to quickly prepare myself and went off to host 70 people,I loved it all.
When all the new white shirts were covered in grape juice, the floor a sticky mess and the kids up past midnight, I loved it all.
And each time I sat down to nurse, I thanked my baby for making sure I got a sitting break, helping me love Pesach.
And each time my cleaning lady showed up as planned, I thanked her profusely for helping me love Pesach.
It’s one big blur, but I know I loved every moment.
Little Yellow Notepad 