The Great Jewish American Novel

I opened a new document and hit ‘File, Save As’: The Great Jewish American Novel 1.doc. Success coursed through my veins. My novel had begun

“W rite a novel? You can’t even write a coherent grocery list!”

I waved off all the skeptics. After being a full-time working mother for over a decade juggling the long hours away from home (and late evenings at the computer to meet deadlines) with laundry cooking homework and raising a houseful of active young children I was eagerly anticipating my new role. With the birth of my new baby I traded my working-mommy card for the stay-at-home one with the plan to finally pen my Great Jewish American Novel.

I’ve always loved to write but finding the time between catching the 8:01 a.m. bus to the office and matching 326 pairs of socks (believe it or not none of them had a partner) was tricky. But now things were different. “I’ll have hours to write while the baby naps and the older kids are in school” I assured everyone — and myself.

My extended maternity leave was used to learn the ropes of being a full-time SAHM. It mostly included new balabusta-dig experiences such as making the beds, trying new recipes — I finally made the Duncan Hines chocolate cake I’d heard so much about — and matching socks. The latter because the 30-gallon plastic storage bin holding all the unmatched socks was full and one of the first lifestyle changes we had to make when I stopped working was to cut the sock budget.