Was it only two weeks ago that I wrote a post about feeling joyful? Day camp for the two younger kids is now over, the oldest broke his wrist within less than twenty four hours of his arrival home from sleepaway and whatever hideously boring administrative details I’ve left undone for the oldest’s upcoming fall bar mitzvah have now caught up with me with a vengeance. Joyful? How about joy-less? Or as my five year old son so eloquently put it this afternoon after spending much of his day at home amusing himself with his siblings while I worked on said bar mitzvah, “Mommy, sometimes I wish you were a Buddist because then you wouldn’t scream so much.” Me too, darling, me too!