West Hollywood, 2004

I know it's common to be scared of death, but I'm paralyzed by it. I can't think about it, can't entertain the idea of it, and certainly can't talk about it, because talking means feeling and feeling is too much. I wish I was all zen and wise and brave about something that I have dealt with in the past, and am going to have to deal with more and more as time goes on, but I'm not.

Take my dogs, for example: I'm going to outlive them. Those are deaths that I'm going to have to deal with - and likely in the not-too-distant future - no matter how much I dread them and try to pretend otherwise. But I always figured that when the day arrives that something happens to one of my dogs, I will fall to pieces, and will need to hand the reins of dealing with the logistics off to someone better-equipped than I (which would be anyone).

Mother's Day is one of those holidays that always used to take me by surprise.

All of a sudden it's The Day Before, and oops, now I'm doing a mad dash to find the one place in all of New York City that's not completely booked for brunch and running around to every store in town to find something that isn't a candle (or at least is a very cool candle). Now that I'm a mother, of course, I know EXACTLY when Mother's Day is and am very, very, keenly aware of each moment that it draws closer, because it is MY DAY.

MINE.

And it involves sleep, and the in-bed delivery of bacon.

A. Oh, this can be awkward. I feel you.

We were on a maaaajor budget for our wedding, and were super strict about who was allowed to bring a plus one and who wasn't, but...that's something about our wedding that I regret. A wedding is for the couple, yes, but the best weddings are the ones where the focus is placed on everyone having fun...and for some people, having a plus one is the difference between having fun and feeling kind of miserable.