Don't get me wrong - I'm looking forward to marrying Coach John. I don't have cold feet or feel like a runaway bride, or any of the other cliches society heaps on women who aren't necessarily the perfect portrait of the blushing bride. I just want it to GET HERE {and be OVER}. Despite my predilection for the stage, I'm not one to enjoy large groups of people. My vision for my wedding was something small and intimate. Where I could look across the room of 75 people {MAX} and know exactly what that person meant to me or my almost-spouse. The reception would be something simple - just a nice family-style dinner with a delicious cake, and maybe {just maybe} the younger crowd could go out to some favorite nightspots to finish off the perfectly simple evening.
Those dreams came careening to a halt when I got the family section of the guest list and realized that there were more names to come. Then my hopes for a "donations to favorite charity in lieu of gifts" request also bit the dust. Too many people looked at me in confusion when I suggested this and asked about my china pattern. Here's the issue: Coach John and I don't live in a world where china is anything but a type of takeout you can get after practice gets out or PTO is over. I'll admit - I loved registering for every kitchen accoutrement under the sun, but when they started pouring into our one bedroom apartment, I started wondering where one can stash that fourth piece of Caphalon. Something tells me the top of Jolene's crate isn't hygienic or going to win us any awards from HGTV. Jolene does thank everyone {profusely} for the tissue paper and cardboard boxes that are constantly left outside our door. They have provided hours of entertainment…
Then came a band, and a full bar, and a score of other insane accessories that get tied to weddings. Cakes covered in the same lace pattern as my dress {why?}, the push for corsages, and the intricacies of a seating chart. And finally, the Mount Everest of our wedding - children at the event. The thought that plays on a repeat track in my head says over and over "I am with children all day. Why would I want them all at my wedding?" I'm sure I'm not the first or last bride to memorize that mantra, but good night Sweet Jesus - it's my day!
My solicitous psychologist {Lindsey Sheckles-Prather} says my feelings of swaying between ultra focus and angry crime of passion crazy are totally normal and warranted, and I know that she's right. But I wish there was a better way to have gone about this. I wish that I'd stood my ground a little better and listened to the tiny, simple, much better person voice in my head that said this was about a MARRIAGE not about a WEDDING. So from now until Friday, I'm adopting a new mantra:
"It's my day" - I get to spend the next few days with my loves… the girls who shaped my adulthood, the man I want to spend my life with, the Ring Man who melts my heart at every turn {and his amazing role model of a mother}. I get to see my "Family" - and they don't have the same last name as me, but they're MINE. My kids from St. Sign of the Cross, their parents, my adopted brothers, my J. Crew cousins. And it's going to be EPIC. Because they are spectacular, snappy, sassy, and special, and {most importantly} SIMPLY mine.
So bring on that sequined cake confection and the 2 entrees per plate, the string quartet and the 7 piece funk band. A little party never killed nobody… and we'll just keep the rest {wedding} confidential.
XO,
