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16 Apr

Our six days in Israel were some of the best vacation days I’ve ever had, but it feels good to be home.  Door-to-door, it took us roughly 27 hours to get home from Tel Aviv.  Ari was exceptional.  Traveling with her was challenging in the ways we expected it would be (everything took longer, it was hard to keep her entertained/well fed/slept, difficult to maneuver the inevitable mess we all made), but she was a trooper.  We had to laugh about how unsettling it must have been to be briskly scooped up from sleep at 4am and rushed out of the apartment in Tel Aviv while it was still dark: “Oh!  Hi mommy!  Wait, where are you taking me?  Food?  Dark?  What?  Just keep holding me…”

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The night of our return was somewhat less successful.  I stayed up until almost 3am filling out forms and getting Ari’s things ready for daycare.  By the time I got in bed (oh, bed!), Ari decided she was still on Tel Aviv time.

A few hours later (yesterday morning), I started back on neuro.  It was hard to leave, but it felt right too.  Then I got a text from John: “Just dropped her off [at daycare], felt very odd,” and I burst into tears in the middle of our neuroanatomy lecture.  I held it together for another six hours, when I silently teared up while observing a small infant get a lumbar puncture.

Today will be better.

 

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