On Thursday, Gramps and Uncle Matt came. They would have preferred to arrive even later, and avoid even more prep. Gramps brought puzzles, and Uncle Matt brought lots of Play Doh.
On Friday we barely got the house together in time. Or we didn’t, really, as we still had lots of things to put away on Saturday.
On Saturday we really got the house together. L’s bottles and formula migrated from their usual spot on the kitchen counter to the downstairs bathroom (for convenience) to the upstairs bathroom (for decorum before having guests for seders). They are chametz, so couldn’t sit on the covered countertops. And we don’t want to wash them around the Passover dishes. At first we had left a blank square of uncovered countertop, but that was just annoying. Of course, we continue to run the sterilizer in the microwave, even after we kashered said microwave for the holiday.
On Saturday afternoon we offered E some Temp-Tee. Cream cheese is normally one of the four food groups for her, but she looked at it once, and without tasting, declared "I NO LIKE IT!" And then we panicked about feeding her for the week
On Saturday night we had a wonderful seder, and got through the whole thing. And E sang the first line of mah nishtanah, and also the chorus of dayenu. And L was asleep in her crib before it even started.
On Sunday night we had a wonderful seder, but with four children between 1 and 3 running around and having raided E’s crafts drawer in the laundry closet, we sort of lost our audience. So we didn’t really pick up with the seder after afikomen prizes were awarded. Instead we picked up Play-Doh crumbs out of the family room carpet. And L was asleep in her crib before it even started. But she still collected both of her afikomen prizes the next day.
On Monday L’s bottles and formula moved to the dining room buffet. And we ate lots of leftovers.
On Tuesday I picked up the girls from school and E didn’t take the time to give me her usual exuberant hug. Instead, she tried to dislocate my wrist in dragging me directly to the fridge so she could pull out the bowl we had sent for her of Passover noodles, hoping ignorantly that she wouldn’t think they were so different from her regular sghettis. I DON’T LIKE THESE, Mama. And I DON’T WANT TO SAVE THEM FOR TOMORROW. Okay, Mama?
On Tuesday I got a cold.
On Wednesday, tired of providing milk as a whole diet, we broke down and opened cans of black beans in the basement. E resumed solid foods, if black beans from a can could be considered solids.
On Thursday, my lunch was pitiful – the last dregs of seder leftovers. And M’s was even less exciting.
On Thursday night E wanted nothing but beans for dinner, which we have been giving her at the coffee table in the family room, due to their chametz-ness. And we ran out of Temp-Tee cream cheese, which M blamed on Grams (for not buying enough) and I blamed on Uncle Matt (for eating it all). And E, who is so delightfully entering the famous two-year-old phase of I-shall-purposefully-do-that-thing-you-least-want-me-to-do-so-I-can-delight-in-your-reaction, poured beans and bean juice all over the coffee table. Happy chametz juice to you, carpet!
On Friday I collected the girls, dropped L off at home with M, and took E to the grocery store so we could refresh our stock of red apples but not green, red grapes but not green, and green pears but not brown, and more milk – so we’d be ready for Shabbat and holiday mode all over again.
On Friday we found two more tubs of Temp-Tee in the back of the fridge, and the weekend was redeemed.
On Saturday, E decided to brave the whipped texture, and seven days in and one tub left, to our dismay, just then decided "I like it!" And five minutes later we were out of Temp-Tee again.
Tonight we put the girls to bed and began the aerobic exercise of reversing the dishes switch – Passover stuff back down to the basement, regular goodies back up to the kitchen.
And tomorrow, I might need to call Stanley Steemer. And go to the grocery store. Because I want a big loaf of bread for dinner. With bread on top, and maybe a side of bread.