Yom Kippur, part 2

So, the fast sucked. Really. I didn't know how good I had it when Drew was here. I'd spend the morning at services, come home and nap for a few hours, then Drew would cook me dinner. Fasting was a breeze! I lost at least 5 pounds! I could do it every week!

Um, then he left for Columbia. And I decided that, out of fairness to Rachel, it would be stupid to be cranky and yell at my kid when I feel like I yell at her every day for...being a kid.

You know where this is going, right? In my daily urge to prove that I am, in fact, SuperJewishMom, I fasted. In a brilliant, only-Lisa-could-do-this move, I invited a non-Jewish friend over when I should have taken a nap as soon as I put Rachel down for HER nap. My friend Julie brought a friend of hers whom I have only met once. Julie asked if she could finish her pizza in my presence and, serene and Buddha-like, I said, sure!

So instead of sleeping off the fast, I got to listen to Julie's friend insist that she was a mystic and needs to move her body every day and can't find a job because she has useful skills, all right, but can't get anyone to pay for them. Then she left and all I wanted to do was SLEEP but instead Julie gave me some excellent advice. Namely that, while Drew is gone, I shouldn't live a life of privation because that will only make me angry and resentful and I'd be a wreck by the time he comes back for good.

Which is why I ended up buying a fabulous pair of jeans yesterday that were way too expensive but make me look 19 again. But I digress.

I persuaded Julie to stay for dinner, during which Rachel was charming and adorable and Julie, who is a doula and visited us when Rachel was a wee babe, pronounced her "very advanced." No wonder: at 8:07, Rachel announced, "Mommy books, go to bed." That was my cue to leave Julie in the kitchen while I put Rachel to bed.

After Julie left, Drew called. He spent the evening playing poker with a business school classmate who happens to live in a penthouse on Park Avenue. One of the participants, another B-school classmate, had worked at a casino in Vegas dealing poker and gave them all insider tips. The game broke up around 1:30 a.m. and Drew took a cab home.

No, I am not jealous. Much.