Glow necklaces, check.
Tinsel maracas, check.
Thunder stix, check.
Custom sweatbands with Jonah’s name, check.
Duct tape to go over Mark’s mouth, check.
Oh, shit. Did I just say that?
Omg. I think I did. Well, ya know what? I’m pissed. I’m trying to throw a party here, and he is fucking it all up! That’s right, you heard me! Nothing like coming in at the bottom of the ninth, and giving your two fucking cents! And I am not talking about the “bottom of the ninth” when you have struck out all night at the bar, so you hit on some ugly chick just to score. No, that’s my next blog. This is different, okay? I have it all done. The best caterer. The best event planners. The best videographer, and photographer…the best of the best of the BEST! It’s fucking 4 weeks away, and in walks Mark. And he starts spewing off his ideas. His “ideas“. I’m so sorry, Mr. Weintraub, but at this late date, your ideas just don’t mean diddley. You said last year, that you just wanted to be the “money behind the magic” did you not? YES YOU DID! You said, “Jen, I don’t want to hear a thing about this craziness you are putting together. Just do it, and send me the bill.” And now, he wants in? Ohhhhhnoooo, Daddy-O. This is game time, and you are being benched.
I made the video montage. It took me 7 hours. I asked Mark to do it five months ago. Just this one thing. I knew it would take him like 3 minutes, cause he is like a nerd-genius. And he’s only made like 400 in his lifetime. But no. So, I did it myself. I’m like that Little Red Hen. You know the one? That story about the Little Red Hen that asks for help around the barn yard, from the duck, and the bunny…and the rat. To make her bread. Oh whatever. And none of them will help her make it. So the flipping Hen makes it all by herself! And when the bread is done, they all want to EAT it! And the Hen says, FUCK YOU ASSHOLES!! You can’t have my bread! Cause you all sat on your little animal-asses and did nothing! Well, that’s what this is like. I am clearly the Hen in this scenario.
So, maybe, no one will get to come to my party.
MY party. I feel like this Bar Mitzvah should be mine. I showed the finished montage to Mark, and he sobbed. Said it was the best thing ever. Then he asked me to add 7 pics. ADD PICS! Where is that duct tape? Did you know I always thought it was duck tape. Like a duck. Duck tape. It’s not. It’s duct. I need a Xanax. This party is going to be the death of me. And I just wish people understood. It’s hard to explain why a 13-year old needs a “wedding”. But it’s not a wedding! It just sounds like one. So my friend Justin posted this video on Facebook, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8I5Q6wAa3gU and I showed it to my kids, and to Mr. T. My boys were crying. Jonah actually choked on his smoothie. And asked me to play it again, and again. And Mr.T got a much better understanding of my world. I think. We all laughed, and I felt better. And worse. Am I like that Momma Bear that only talks about one thing? Duh.
But tonight, is Jonah’s third speech writing meeting with the Rabbi. I’m excited to hear what he’s been working on so secretively. And focus for an hour on the Jewish part of his Bar Mitzvah. Not the celebration, but the religious part. The really important part. The why he is doing this in the first place. And if you were to ask most Jewish 13-year olds, they would say they were doing it for the money, or the party. I mean, they are teenage kids, right? Always makes me giggle. But then, I think about what Jonah has actually been doing over the past few years to get ready for this day, and I think he deserves the dang biggest party a 13-year old can handle…
Or a 42-year old Mom can create, without losing her flippin’ mind. Or a 45-year old Dad can afford without losing his wallet. hehe. Hey, if Jonah can learn to read Hebrew, I think I can throw a Bar Mitzvah. I need to grab my balls, and man up. Or is it woman up? Either way, I have five weeks. This should be a piece of 7-layer cake. Shit, did I order the cake? Randi!!! ;)