Rantings of a Mother of the Bar Mitzvah in the 45 Days Before the BIG EVENT(S)

Once, I was a regular chick. I had a life. A career. Then two kids and a career. Two kids and a career and a full and busy life. Then the career went. And the descent into madness began. Seven and a half years later, it's down to this. Forty-five days before the big BAR MITZVAH of First Born Son. And the madness has fully taken over.

You, dear reader, get to witness the fun.

14 January 2010

Day 44: D'oh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, dear readers, you know it is bad, bad, bad when Barmitzvazilla makes a big, whopping typographical error...on the URL address of her own blog. Apparently, I signed up not for barmitzvazilla.blogspot.com, but barmitzvaZAilla.

As if I were trying to pronounce it in Spanish or something. But no. This was not intentional. Errors are par for the course when the mind is distracted. At least you found me anyway. Despite that my URL is, and I repeat barmitzvaZAilla.

OK, so, procedural crap dispensed with, onto the business of the day:

The day began with hope. I was feeling better after having slogged through the past few days of my life with a cold. It started on Saturday evening, following Barmitzvazilla's attending someone else's child's B-Mitzvah. It couldn't have helped the immune system that I spent the afternoon drinking too much red wine and walking around frigid Midtown Manhattan without a winter coat, let alone a hat or gloves.

Bygones. I'm better now, and the (hopeful) plan was to get the hell out of my house BEFORE the mail came. It was a test of my discipline. I suspect you know how this is going to turn out...it's called foreshadowing, and you learned it before your own B-Mitzvah.

Anyway, despite that I normally practice yoga in my own house in the comfort of my own cozy little yoga studio, I decided to venture out to take a class in, of all places, Norwalk, Connecticut. That meant leaving the house long before noon, which is the dropdead earliest time the mail ever arrives. Nevertheless, just for fun, I decided to do a bit of mailbox stalking as I drove out of the driveway.

Hello, RSVPs! Four more from FBS's friends, and two more from mine. And of the two friends of FBS, two were...GIRLS! Yay! I know, I'm pathetic. Whatever. At least I'm willing to own it. All that pathetic-ness, I mean.

I immediately text messaged FBS to tell him, and when he turned on his phone at 2:30, when school ended, he immediately texted me back:

"STOP SENDING ME UPDATES. I can wait until I get home."

Well, alrighty then.

For those yearning for the yoga update, and one of you commentators seemed to imply that the yoga updates will be missed in the next 44 days and counting, let me just say that I had a delightful practice at the place in Norwalk. Yeah, the usual happened - I got dressed down for sinking into my flexible hips and for doing some advanced stuff when that wasn't what the teacher was asking us to do. Nothing new there.

At least some things stay the same, despite the insanity of planning a B-Mitzvah.

Stomp stomp stomp, stay tuned til next time, good townspeople. And when you see me stomping through your villages, do not be afraid. It is just me. Barmitzvazilla...planning my FBS's B-Mitzvah. And it has to be PERFECT. RAWR!!!