Where is our favorite blogger? I’m sure you have all been wondering. Well, that person is probably off on vacation or enjoying their weekend. I, however, am right here. And I’m tired. I am just starting to get back into the swing of regular sleep, so some nights I get 3 hours and other nights I get 6 or 7. You’d think with all the extra awake time I’d be blogging up a storm. Well, apparently not so much. It’s been a relatively busy week. I got home Saturday night, spent a lot of Sunday just getting used to being home (like, home-home, in the house I grew up in home) and then my stomach, which I thought had recovered from the trip home, decided to go into super spew mode and I was losing my supper far into the night. Wednesday night was the start of Rosh Hashana so that meant dinner with the family. That also meant fielding all sorts of questions about CB and my trip to Belgium and other stuff about future plans and things. I sort of gave half-answers for most of that, no ayin harah thank you very much! So I ended up falling asleep early that night but woke up around 2 in the morning because my stomach decided that brisket, potato kugel, and green bean casserole was not acceptable nourishment. Hello esophageal sphincter, meet seething fountain of stomach acid! Friday night was my grandpa’s birthday so we went out for dinner. And ever since I finished my post-dinner cup of coffee everything that has entered my intestines has forcefully been ejected from the opposite end from whence it came. What the bloody hell is going on with my stomach??? Every single day this week it has caused me one or more forms of painful and often embarrassing discomfort and I have no idea why. I plan on scheduling an appointment with my dad’s gastroenterologist, hopefully sometimes in the next month before my whole digestive system decides to internally combust one day while I’m like, serving pizza to the kiddies. And to top of this wonderful first week home, six of us gals (me, my mum, my aunt, my gram, my cousin, and my grandmother by marriage) are headed to New Jersey for my other cousin’s baby shower. We are flying in tomorrow morning and out tomorrow night. I sort of wish I hadn’t committed to this. I mean, I want to be involved in my family and the new children in it (plus I was the only girl on both sides of the family for 23 years until my last little cousin was born. Now it seems girls are being repopulated in my family. Just in time for me to take my leave too, so I guess I better be supportive) but at the same time, going to baby showers just reminds me that I don’t have any of my own. Sometimes, after taking care of 20 3-year-olds 40 hours a week, I’m glad to come home to a quiet, childless house, but most of the time, all I want is to come home to a family of my own. I think I’m ready for it at this point in my life and I don’t like being reminded that I don’t have it yet.

sigh