At approximately 2:00 p.m. this afternoon I will be going off the grid as the whole family gears up for Noah’s Bar Mitzvah weekend.  To say that I have been a bit consumed by the preparations would be a fair statement.  I honestly never thought I would become one of those people – but I did.  For what it’s worth my obsession came from only the best intentions.  Still, I want to take this space to apologize to those upon whom I have pulled the complete Jewish mother:

To the reporter who asked if I would be able to get them some important data at the end of the week to which I replied:  “I will be out on Friday but my colleague can help you with that.  It’s my SON’S BAR MITZVAH.”  I’m sorry.  You don’t really care as long as you get your data.

To the nice lady who painted my toes yesterday who asked me if the color was okay to which I replied, “Yes, it matches my dress perfectly FOR MY SON’S BAR MITZVAH.”  I’m sorry.  That was TMI —  although I think you were thrilled that we didn’t have to find another shade of chocolate brown.”

To everyone who asked how the preparations were going but didn’t really want to know the gory details of rehearsals, hotel rooms, and the suit options in young men’s department at Nordstrom’s. I’m sorry.

To my family who, on Monday morning, will be faced with a catatonic wife and mother who resembles someone who just had a frontal lobotomy:  I’m sorry.  I have done little else this past month besides plan and suddenly I will not have that to do anymore.  I may stare into space or question my purpose on this earth.  If this occurs, please talk to me in soft gentle voices and remind me that I was indeed quite busy before all this malarkey completely consumed me.  Sit me down in front of the computer and show me some of my writing projects.  Take me to my Boot Camp class and put a medicine ball in my hands.  Introduce me to my second child’s teacher and suggest that I volunteer for something.  Anything.  Hand me a cocktail.   I know I had some sort of life before this all began.  It will all come back… eventually … I promise.

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