Spring breaking

“Life-it’s the yin and the yang, baby,” Annie often tells me. And she’s right.

Here I was last week getting all high and mighty about how my life is so blissfully simple compared to the TV shows OC Housewives and Big Love, when BAM, my husband and I were rear-ended on our Thursday date night. I am so grateful that the kids were not in the car and that after getting pushed out onto Coast Highway we were not hit by oncoming traffic. But my thankfulness ends there. The driver who hit us got out of his giant Lexus, looked at the front of his car where there was paint from our now crumpled bumper, and promptly declared, “I don’t see what the problem is here.”

So you can only imagine where things went after that exchange. He refused to give us his insurance information, so we had to call the police. I was never so happy to see a Laguna Beach man in uniform. The officer took charge, extracted information and we were on our merry way.

Except that when I got home my neck really began to throb. And burn. So on Friday, I went to the doctor who diagnosed me with whiplash and sent me to physical therapy. And the week only got better from there. On Saturday, we did our taxes; Sunday, my oldest daughter got a stomach virus; Monday, I got my daughter’s stomach virus; Tuesday, I cried after physical therapy and on Wednesday, I performed the kicker of them all, I ruined a surprise party that my husband’s office staff had planned. Yep, I single-handedly brought down an office party being thrown in my husband’s honor. I knew about the party, but I asked him to go pick up the kids during lunch. Which was the same time as the party. Ouch.

I had no other excuse except that I completely forgot that the party was happening that day. I was sure the accident was to blame for this failed neurological mishap, so I went to see Dr. Alex, a doctor I have known for years and asked her, “What is wrong with my brain? It is working worse than usual.”

“Well it might have gotten jostled a bit, but I don’t think you have a concussion,” she replied after examining me.

“Are you sure?” I pressed. It would be so much easier to explain the whole surprise snafu to my husband’s office if I just had a concussion or something serious like that, as opposed to a case of normal mommy dementia.

As I was driving home, I realized what needed to happen. It was obvious. It was time to press the re-boot button. And it is my time of year to do so. Easter. Passover. The beginning of Spring. This time of year is my personal New Year’s Eve. I can never reflect upon my life on everyone else’s New Year’s Eve. I am too exhausted and over-loaded with sugar to process a clear thought. I need a couple of months to recuperate from the whole holiday season, before I can step back and take a good look at my life.

I was raised in a Christian home and Easter was always a special time for us to attend early morning services and be with family. When I married into a Jewish family, I came to love Passover and its emphasis on gratitude for the lives we live. The new buds of our dogwood tree remind me of re-birth and an opportunity to start anew.

While I would like to start anew with a brand new brain, that doesn’t seem scientifically feasible at this point. I need to take my weary, tired self on vacation. I want to sit on a sandy beach, drink cocktails with umbrellas and read Jackie Collins for days at a time.

So for my New Year Eve’s, I’ll be heading to Bermuda for an umbrella in the sun. That’s pushing the re-boot button. Let’s just hope the hard drive doesn’t crash before I get there.