T Minus…

…6 days until The Big Event (otherwise known as the bar mitzvah I’m throwing for my son and my ex-husband – more about this below*)
…4 days until the family invasion begins.
…9 days until things get back to normal and the last guest leaves PDX.

And how are my nerves holding up while I planfive events and juggle about 50 zillion logistics? (While recovering from a week-long business trip and dealing with the usual kid drills, no less.) Well, let me make a few predictions:

…the first ‘oh, holy hell I can’t deal with this’ meltdown? T minus 5 days (conveniently timed less than 24 hours after the first onslaught of visitors, you might notice.)

…the first family incident requiring whistle blowing, flags on the play, and or calls for ‘unnecessary roughness’ – with any luck, we’ll save it for the day of The Big Event itself, but after I’ve had a glass or two of wine.

…the first time Drama Mama realizes she’s not the total center of attention and gets all Diva-like? Well – it’s an outside possibility, but I’m going to say it’ll happen on T-minus 7, if at all. (I’ve gone into proactive offense mode with her already to carve out moments for her to shine on her own stage; cross your fingers that it’ll work…)

…and, finally – the first time I tear up and get All Emotional. Every day. At least twice a day. Guaranteed. See, I used to cry at Love Boat reruns – yep, even the ones with that annoying Vicki moppet. My kid’s been warned that I’m going to embarras him all to hell, my friends are on emergency Kleenex standby. And I’m seeing my ex’s family for the first time in five years; I’ve loved them and miss them and can’t wait to reconnect.

* So. Yeah. I’m the non-Jewish parent with the synagogue membership and the time served teaching shabbat school now throwing the long-delayed bar mitzvah for The Father alongside the regularly-scheduled one for The Mogul. Just another example of either a) how we manage to work together as an awesome parenting team or b) further proof of the huge therapy bills both kids will ring up some day (my christian mom never let us celebrate Christmas…!)


Surely you're not going to let me have the last word - are you?