Breathing time

Law school hubby finished his last class ever on Monday. I asked my husband if they cheered, threw hats, or celebrated such a momentous occasion. Nah. He just went to class. Three brutal years are over just like that. No more briefs, cases, or getting called on in class. I would be jumping up and down hollering Hallelujah, but my husband just shrugged it off, and started studying for his last exam.

He doesn't have too much left to get through. On Sunday he completed his final trial for his litigation class. He argued a case with his partner in front of a real judge and a juror (they couldn't get more than one high school volunteer). With the help of two good friends serving as witnesses, he won his first case.

All he has left is one exam and a paper draft. Oh, and the bar exam, but that seems a million years away right now. In a little more than three weeks the whole family will be descending on West Roger's Park to celebrate my husband's graduation. He has his royal purple robe and tam - no mortarboard for the law school grads - and a big smile on his face.

I wish I could share his sense of relief, even if it is temporary. Less than a week after commencement, he'll start his public interest law internship and his bar preparation course. But my year is just ramping up, so it's hard for me to treasure the moment. We just got through Passover, which wasn't as awful as it has been in year's past. In fact, we actually got the house fully cleaned and turned over a few days early. It was the first time since having kids that we didn't have to wake them up at three in the morning to search for the chametz, the leavened crumbs my husband hides around the house each year.

The seders were lovely. On the first night we had another family over, three law students, and a law school widower. It was a very eclectic, smart and fun crowd. The food came out well, the kids performed their roles with panache, and we were done by one o'clock in the morning. The second night was just us, and we let the kids run the show. Predictably, it was a fun, goofy night. We beamed with pride as our Jewish Day School educated kids strutted their stuff. Tuition dollars well spent.

Somewhere in the middle of the holiday, minor mayhem ensued. My oven died of exhaustion. All my plans for matzah pizzas and matzah lasagnas went up in a puff of natural gas. For the so-called second days of the holiday, the last two full days of Passover, we also had guests coming, and no oven. I had to be creative in my kitchen. I cooked my first pot-roast, and quartered a whole chicken by hand. Not bad, for a squeamish vegetarian. Everything got cooked on the stove-top, including my Shmuely Fish, a delicious gefilte fish casserole. It got a little burnt on the bottom, but it was tasty, nonetheless.

The biggest challenge was desserts. I had bought boxes of cake mixes and brownie mixes, upon which I had planned to celebrate my baby's fourth birthday. With no oven, I had to think fast. Ah, the genius of pasteurized eggs! With the aid of a new hand-mixer (the third purchased for Passover in as many years), I whipped up a gallon of chocolate mousse and chemically created fake whipping cream. I dipped matzah sticks into melted chocolate, and voila: a masterful dessert was created.

Passover was exhausting, but fun. Between the first days and Shabbat which followed on it's heels, and the last days that creeped up on me a few days later, I scarcely had time to breathe. I did have a little time to take the kids and my son's best friend to the Field Museum for a visit to the Pirate exhibit.

This was no Disney fantasy, it was a dark, depressing, and realistic look at historical pirates. And it was surprisingly timely, as well, considering news headlines. After our visit with the pirates and a snack of Passover treats at the museum, we tried to walk around the museum campus and visit some of the interesting art, but who would have predicted forty degree weather in mid-April?

Argh, Matey. Me thinks Chicago is a mite too chilly for me scurvy-laden blood!

After we got through Passover - Passover never simply ends, it is something to accomplish - my mother-in-law came to town for a family wedding. My husband's little cousin got married on Saturday in high style. My husband and I made it for the tail-end of the reception, thanks to Shabbat ending so late, but it was wonderful to see the family.

On Sunday, after piano lessons and soccer games, my husband's aunt, her three children, and a boyfriend came over for a visit. We hadn't seen each other for eight years. They hadn't even met my girls, but the kids took no time warming up to their new family. My son was trash-talking his cousin's boyfriend in no time, challenging him to games of Risk, Blokus, and who knows what else. I took out the camera to take a photo of everyone, and promptly got distracted. Aaargh!

My mother-in-law went home last night, but not without giving the two of us a night off. It was our first date in who knows how long. My husband took me to the newest kosher sushi joint, and a movie. For a few hours, we could forget about the kids, the exams, and all of the stuff I have coming up soon, like the roller skating program I'm teaching in two weeks. Never mind that I haven't been on skates in years. Or the Chicago 2016 Olympics bid week my principal volunteered me to plan and run in a couple of week. Or field day, which is coming up sooner than I can bear.

I am so happy for my husband. He has earned this breather, without a doubt. I just wish I could breathe along with him.