I am not the best planner. Before Big Girl’s bat mitzvah, the last time I planned something bigger than dinner was when I moved from Columbus to New York City the day after I graduated from Ohio State. If you think I’m kidding, my mom planned my wedding, my husband planned our honeymoon, and our moves, and come to think of it – our children, too.
When my first two were five and three (and Bulldog was in utero) we went to Disney World with good friends and their five and three year olds. My friend Lisa did all the planning: where we would start, what we should see, which restaurants were worth it. It was a great vacation. And I loved not having to plan it.
Oh, Lee-sah, can you come over and plan a bar mitzvah for me? I did it the first time, I really did. I had a notebook, and notes, and checklists. Lots of checklists. And it was exhausting. Seriously, I don’t actually consider her bat mitzvah over, because how could it be over when the box of extra thank you notes and invitations is sitting on my makeup table? There’s actually no room for makeup on the small table because of that box.
But I’m planning to plan. The big stuff – deposits to the caterer, photographer, and florist – are done. But I know there’s much more: decor and invitations and favors, oh my. I know logically those things can wait till fall, but I’m thinking about them all the time, when I rise up and when I go out – wait, that’s for thinking about something else entirely, right? It usually hits me at bedtime, which can vary from 10:30 to 2 a.m. And with his first bar mitvah lesson out of the way, it should be easy. Right?