I am the girl who just showed up to my wedding. The one decision I had to make, my wedding dress, I messed up, and looked like Nancy Kerrigan from the 94 Winter Olympics.
So you can imagine my trepidation in having to plan my son?s Bar Mitzvah. I tried to pretend I was all Jewish like Madonna and Demi Moore and declared to my husband that I wanted to go to Israel. ?That?s what real Jews do,? I say, ?to really find meaning in becoming a Bar Mitzvah. ? Scott saw right through me and he knew that I wanted to avoid the planning of the party.
We agreed we would have a traditional service and night party. Okay, I can do this. I am not going to get out of control. I will keep things in check. I saw that hilarious cartoon about how crazy we can get with the planning.
I am not that person. But it?s happening. One meeting about the party and I have my first hit. ?I?ll just try it?, I say. It?s not like I am going to develop a problem. Then you start hanging out with other people planning the party and using starts to seem like the norm. We all seem okay. But I feel different. I feel like I need to order something for the party every day. I need to talk about it. I need to only hang with people who have children who are twelve and will be considered an adult by G-d within the year. I feel like I need to use the latest drug, currently considered to be the food truck waiting for your guests at the end of the party. I need to have my kid?s name on everything. I listen to friends, I mean pushers, tell me that I have to have a theme of some sort to bring the party together. My husband tells me I am getting out of control, just a little more I say, then I?ll stop. I promise I?ll stop.
I need Ben?s day to get here already. I know I have a problem.
After the day, people will say, “where is Jen?” “Oh, she needed to go away for a while to get clean. She?ll be okay.”
Until 2015, when I Lindsay Lohan it all over again for Jack?s.
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