Say it isn’t so.
I know he must be kidding.
There is NO way he is serious.
I am going to cry.
Not the Hugo the Hornet!
Omg. It’s every Mitzvah-Mommie’s biggest nightmare. I am popping Xanax like tic-tacs. I can’t find enough wine in my house…please, someone wake me up when this is over. We are a week and a half from showtime, and my kid decides that it’s all “too much”. We are sitting there, working on the candle lighting ceremony, and my beautiful, soon-to-be-Bar Mitzvah looks at me and says,”Mom, I need to be brutally honest with you.” FUCK JONAH NO!! Please, do not be honest. Lie. Hold it in. I started to sweat. I swear to Goddess I started to fucking sweat. I knew I should have kept that appointment for Botox under my arms. Dammit. I could feel the vomit rising in my throat, as he stood up…and said the words every mother wants to hear, but NEVER wants to hear…
“Mom, I just think this party has gotten way out of control. It’s too much. I don’t need it all, let’s cancel some stuff.”
My mouth was smiling on the outside. I hope. I tried to make it smile. I used every last workable muscle in my face to pull the corners up, up…up! But inside, I was crying. Sobbing. Is this child kidding me? It’s a week before! Does he even know what I’ve been doing for the past 9 months? The planning. The ordering. The time, and the money…and the Hornet Cheerleaders! What the fuck am I going to do with those sluts? He just stared at me. I think I must have sat there for a long time, because I kept hearing him saying, “Mom?” I snapped out of it, and gathered my thoughts. Then I said, “Jonah, this is your party. You want to cancel Hugo and his Honeybees, we will.” So, good… no Team mascots. Who needs them anywhoo? But then, he went on. My heart skipped a beat.
No Pop-and-Shot basketball game. No Candle lighting Ceremony. And no Candy Bar. NO CANDY BAR? Omg. I’m like, are you kidding me? Why don’t we just have it at Chucky fucking Cheese? Everyone can have a few tokens and a slice of pizza. Oh, and the coxsackievirus! I can give out little bottles of Purell for a give-a-way. Grrrr. At this point, I am on the phone with Mark, and I’m freaking. I am trying to stay calm, but clearly it’s not working. What about the theme, how can we have a coherent theme without the Pop-and-Shot? And no Hugo? I am feeling sick. And dizzy.
But I am feeling slightly relieved, too. Kinda, sorta…simplifies things. Ya know?
And I am so proud of Jonah. For not only coming to the conclusion that this was his party, and it was getting way out of hand….but for telling me. Because Goddess knows, I am not the most umm…approachable gal in town. Especially when it comes to planning a party. It’s funny, it took my thirteen year old to remind me just how unimportant all the “bells and whistles” are at these things. You just don’t need all that extra-shit. You’ve got to remember it’s the actual Bar Mitzvah that counts. It’s all about the tradition, and being with family…and celebrating this huge milestone. And the Horah!
So, no cheerleaders, or basketball game. Or Candy Bar. Or candle lighting ceremony. And I am ok with that. And you know why? Because it’s not my party, it’s Jonah’s. Now, as long as he doesn’t change the venue, or cancel the DJ…I think I will survive the next week. I need to hide his cell phone. ;)