I promised my editor I would start a blog as soon as I got to Brooklyn. I’m sure the internet is dying to know that our plane landed this morning at 7:15 AM, local time. Josh has been here for a week “settling in,” which means he helped the movers break our box spring in the stairwell, then built a dining room table out of its carcass, instead of assembling our perfectly good actual dining room table. The twins’ cribs are in the living room, and he didn’t open any boxes because, and I quote, “I couldn’t find the scissors.” On the plus side, there was a bar of soap and one clean-ish towel in the bathroom, so I no longer smell like baby vomit and airplane wine.

Of the flight, the less said, the better. I tried bribing the movers to take at least one of the twins in the back of the truck, but it was a no-go. So: Six hours, three kids, and no outlets for the DVD player. Our flight attendant was an angel—she let Pea take all the drink orders—but I’m pretty sure she went straight to her gynecologist for a lifetime supply of birth control pills after the plane landed.

The apartment is on a quiet street, but apparently our upstairs neighbor is teaching a rhinoceros how to tango. Miraculously, everyone but me is sleeping through it, even Pea. Between crashes and whinnies, I can almost hear myself think.

In the morning, I begin my quest for the perfect baba ghanoush.

P.S. Linda said I should include some SEO keywords. Husband snoring? Buy a fighting Rottweiler! Is that a Google ranking in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?