1. I am one week away from the Bar Mitzvah. I am obsessed with my swag bags and about to embark on making four dozen chocolate cruise ships from chocolate molds that I purchased from a chocolate company website. The funny thing about this is that , if you know me, the idea of me making shaped molded chocolate is so outside my usual hobbies and interest. I don't cook. I rarely bake. I'm not really crafy. I guess that I am cheap. The local fancy chocolate place wanted $5-8 bucks a piece and I decided that I can make them. Between the practice lessons, the molds and the chocolate, I am probably spending more but there is no turning this ship around. (pun intended). I will certainly report back with photos once I am done playing Willy Wonka.
2. My son, the bar mitzvah boy, still does not have an outfit for the big day. We are doing the ceremony on the beach and I want him in a white linen shirt. My husband would like to help pick this out because my fashion sense for men runs more preppy than he likes. I attended prep school and my teenaged years were during the height of the preppy scene. I like preppy on boys and men. My husband hates preppy. I digress. The fact that my son does not have anything to wear at his Bar Mitzvah which is in one week is the equivalent of a bride not having the dress in my crazy mind. My husband has promised that he will all go shopping on Sunday and not return home without Bar Mitzvah clothe for all men in this house. Until then, stay out of my way.
3. I attended the high school's PTA installation luncheon today. It was a lovely gathering at a local restaurant and honored the outgoing officers and the incoming officers. When I agreed to be the secretary next year, I did not realize that this was such serious business. I was the only freshman mom being sworn in with a real oath (like girl scouts) and felt like I was pledging a sorority again. I really hope that this is not going to be too much work. I told my husband and one of my best friends that if I ever mention wanting to hold any other office in the PTA to call 911 and have me committed to the hospital.