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.

17 January 2010

No Mail Sunday

And it was so peaceful as a result. Will there be no mail tomorrow because of MLK Day? Probably. Deep breaths. At this point, I'm only waiting on four girls and nine boys, although for the life of me, I can't understand why their moms wouldn't call me back to tell me whether their kids are coming or not. I mean, for chrissakes, at least two of them have already HAD their B-Mitzvahs, and FBS replied to theirs PROMPTLY, and showed up and handed in his check, and well, don't they REMEMBER how stressful this time is. Seriously. Don't they?

Today, was Camp Reunion, and one of my adult invitees RSVP'd informally. That was good. Cross one off of that list. THAT list...I haven't even mentioned because it really doesn't make a difference to FBS how many adults come to the B-Mitzvah. But the truth is, the adults are far worse than the kids in terms of responses. So far, none of The Husband's cousins, aunts or uncles have replied - a total of 14 possible guests. In addition to them, we have another 20 outstanding adult invites.

Is it THAT difficult to check off a box? Is it that anguish-provoking to decide whether to come to a freakin' two-hour party in a lovely suburb of New York City? If it's "no", I can take it. Just give it to me straight. And soon. Ever consider the fact that possibly I have some other people who would LOVE to be invited, who I couldn't invite until I got a few "no's"? Everyone knows that everyone has a "B" list, and when all is said and done, who really cares if you were invited later rather than sooner?

Anyway, enough whipping myself up. I did a LOT of good things this weekend. Last night, went out with friends whose son's B-Mitzvah is next weekend. Had a blast. I kept the wine-drinking to a minimum but actually had a few slices of rib-eye. Yes, I have finally come to the conclusion that there really is NO reason to deny myself the occasional critter.

Vegetarianism. What is it good for? I mean, for the most part, I don't really like eating critter. So, it's easy for me to go part-time veggie. But then there's nights like last night when a trip to Mortons makes it seem kind of stupid not to just partake. I mean, who really cares?

The wine I kept to a minimum so that I could wake up early to take the boys to their Camp Reunion. Really really fun. Came home and felt energized and inspired to make FBS's Sign-In-Book, which is essentially a scrap-book. At the B-Mitzvah, the kids will be invited to have their photos taken in a photo booth and then glue-stick them into the scrap-book and write something along side their photo. My role in this was to punch holes in the scrapbook pages with a big three-hole punch and then do a bit of decorating of the pages so that the kids won't be spending their time doing that at the party, instead of dancing or whatever it is they do. I glued letters to say things like "Wow!" and "Great Job!" and "Celebrate" and stickers of baseballs and basketballs and related word-stickers that say things like, "Home Run!" and "All Star". You get the point.

I don't feel that monstrous when I do things like that. It made a huge mess. But I felt great about it. I had locked the whole pile of crap that I had bought at Michael's Arts and Crafts store - the scrapbook, the pages without holes, the stickers and stickers and stickers - in a closet in the guest room, and I was having trouble even thinking about what I was going to do with it all. So, now it's done.


Let's see if I can get my ass to yoga tomorrrow.