Procrastination, Preparation, and Anticipation

Last Saturday my boy became a husband! Although Ethan and Sumer were engaged for over a year, it still sort of crept up on me. I found myself scrambling at the last minute, as I do for most important events in my life... and the unimportant ones, too.

It began with Sumer's bridal shower, the first I'd ever hosted. I was nervous about all of it—the games, the decorations, the food—so I procrastinated about planning it until I'd nearly run out of time. But thanks to Pinterest and some advice from my boss and a coworker, it all came together nicely! I made way too much baked potatoes, grilled chicken, vegetable soup, and salad, but that was okay because we sent quite a lot home with my mom, who has been unable to cook since a fall on Labor Day weekend. 

For dessert we ate pumpkin-spice Nothing Bundt cake with thick cream-cheese frosting and my sister Emily's pineapple-sherbet punch, which she graciously made for me when she arrived, after picking up both the cake and our mother.

Allyson was in charge of decorations, and she made the party beautiful with a cute little marquis, a big banner, giant balloons, three little bouquets that doubled as prizes for the games, and a pink sparkly sash for the bride-to-be.

Allyson and Sumer

Allyson was dubious about my choice of games, but we all had so much fun. First we paired off and did wedding-vow Mad Libs. There was a bit of grumbling at first as I refreshed everyone's memories on nouns, verbs, and adjectives, but when the couples said their silly vows to each other, there wasn't a straight face in the room. The one that made me laugh the hardest was written by my sister Emily and read by our sister Amy. Amy promised to be united in "greasy marriage" and to "jump you on the couch." 

Sumer and Amy

Sumer promised to give her "spouse" (her mother) a skyscraper as a token of her love. My mom could scarcely finish reading her vows to my sister-in-law Diane because she was laughing too hard to speak. "Oh, I needed to laugh!" she gasped as we all laughed with her. I imagined this might have been her first belly laugh since she fell and chipped her pelvis in September.

Mom and Diane

After the Mad Libs, we put some leftover chart paper and markers from my classroom days to good use playing wedding Pictionary. Allyson had a strong start, but Emily kicked our butts in the end. She laughed out loud when she drew out her strip on her turn to draw: "cut the cake." How fitting, since she would be making the cakes for the wedding one week later!

Emily and Sumer

The best part came last. We took turns recalling our favorite dates, and I wrote them down to make a date-night bucket list for Sumer and Ethan. Mom reminisced about living out her dream of riding in a hot air balloon in Utah. Diane described being picked up in a rented Jaguar when Rick extended one of his work trips to San Francisco. Allyson and I showed off the portraits we'd painted of our cats on a mother-daughter date night at Painting with a Twist. Sumer's mom, Lisa, told us about a helicopter ride into the Grand Canyon with a picnic of wine and cheese. 

Lisa and Sumer

At last I suggested that we recommend some low-cost date ideas that wouldn't break the bank for Ethan and Sumer. I shared one of my favorite low-budget dates: attending school plays. "Just stick with the high-school plays," Diane clarified. We laughed over the idea of attending an elementary play on a date night. No, thank you! A suggestion from Lisa made me wish I could try it out: indoor "drive-in movie night" with a blow-up bed on the living room floor and popcorn in front of the big-screen TV. Of course, in order to do that, I'd need to... buy a big-screen TV.

Sumer received a nice mix of sexy and comfy lingerie, a spa date with her mom, a rose-gold bracelet, and a decorative box to store wedding cards in. When she hugged me goodbye, she said, "Thank you so much! I loved it." I smiled over that moment all the next morning as I cleaned and put the house back in order. 

Sumer and I

The other thing I procrastinated about was getting my dress. On the Monday before the wedding, I met Emily at Dillard's, where she had a dressing room waiting for me with about 10 dresses in various shades of maroon and burgundy. Before we headed back, though, I followed her around the astonishingly large formal wear section as we chose perhaps 10 more! 

It felt like a scene from a low-budget version of Pretty Woman, only without the snooty store clerk. I remarked that I hadn't tried on this many dresses for either of my own two weddings. Emily just smiled. 

She zipped and unzipped every one of those dresses and hung them all back up. It was a tough choice, but the one we chose was the perfect fit, the perfect color, and the perfect style, especially because it had long sleeves; it would be an outdoor wedding, and the forecast wasn't looking too balmy.

When we were wrapping up and hour and a half later, and I was starting to think about grabbing some fast food on the way home, Emily asked about shoes. "I guess I might need to buy some," I said ruefully, both for the sake of my pocketbook and my grumbling belly. 

"You're buying shoes," she answered firmly. 

So we drove to a nearby shoe store where I followed her around as she chose six or eight pairs of heels in various nude shades. I chose the pair that seemed the most comfortable, but they were pretty, too. And on sale. 

"I guess I'll need to get my toenails painted," I said as I peered at my feet in the low mirror. And shave my legs, I added mentally. 

Four days later, I had a date for manicures and pedicures with Allyson. When the nail technician asked me to pick out a nail color, I felt unaccountably panicked. Every time I get my nails done—which is only every few years these days—I end up regretting my color choice. And never before did I need to match my nail color to anything particular. Allyson calmly examined a picture of the dress on my phone and immediately pointed to a burgundy bottle. "Try that one, on the third row... and that other one to the right of it." 

I brought the two bottles over to where she was sitting on a massage chair soaking her feet. "I don't know," I dithered. "I think it's more of a–"

"Okay, try that one," Allyson cut in. "See, on the top shelf?" 

"Yes, it's perfect," I replied, though I still secretly feared having ugly hands in the wedding pictures. 

When I plunged my feet into the hot water, my worries melted away as quickly as the knots in my shoulders under the gentle pressure of the massage chair.

The next morning, I woke early and drove with my sister Amy out to my niece Savannah's house for a makeover. She had volunteered to do makeup for both me and her mother, Emily. Sitting on a low stool while she applied foundation, eyeliner, and my very first set of false lashes, I told Savannah how her mother used to fix me up for high-school dances and school reunions. 

Amy and I arrived at the venue about five hours before the ceremony, but too late to help with the decorations. I probably would have been in the way anyway, I reasoned. Thankfully, Allyson had arrived an hour earlier to help in my stead. Ethan guided us to the bridal suite, but Amy took one look at the full flight of wooden stairs and said there was no way she could get up there. Since her stroke six years ago, she has had to walk with a quad cane and can manage three or four steps at most. 

The reception area currently had no heaters running, and it was too cold to wait there. At around 40 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius), it was unseasonably cool for Texas, though not as cold as I'd feared.  "I guess you can hang out with the groomsmen, then," Ethan said after a moment's hesitation. "It's not nearly as nice as the rooms upstairs, but it's warm."

I apologized to Ethan's friends for intruding in their man cave, but they welcomed us warmly into the small sitting area and kitchenette with cement floors. The two of us watched quietly as they threw darts and played video games that were probably older than Ethan, including some of Amy's favorite Mario Brothers games. Now and then, she offered advice on beating the various levels.

I made myself useful by ironing five shirts on the creaky ironing board I'd wedged into my backseat at Ethan's request. It, too was older than Ethan, maybe even as old as me. Amy and I reminisced over using it at our house when we were growing up, and Ethan told the story of how his Uncle Chris used to terrorize him with it when he was a toddler with many bizarre phobias. 

I was happy to see that Ethan seemed remarkably calm now that the big day had arrived; at the shower the week before, Sumer had told us how stressed he'd been over the last-minute preparations. I felt pretty calm, too, until Ethan casually mentioned his song selection for the mother-son dance. 

I froze and almost burned the shirt I was working on. "We're doing a dance?" I sputtered. "But... I don't know how to dance. Shouldn't we have practiced or something?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. He made his arms into a C around waist level. "Do want me to put my arms around your waist like this? Or should we do this instead?" He crooked one arm and held the other hand at shoulder height.

"I guess the second way," I said. "I'm really, really nervous."

"Yeah, me too," he admitted.

I spent the next hour or two going back and forth between the bridal suite and the man cave. No matter where I was, I felt guilty, either for not being with Sumer or for leaving Amy alone with all those guys. But finally, I just decided to relax and enjoy the anticipation. 

Upstairs, Sumer and Allyson chatted and laughed animatedly on the couch, and I smiled as I savored their warm relationship despite the nine-year disparity in their ages. I knew Allyson was thrilled to be gaining a sister, and I hoped that Sumer was happy to be gaining a mother-in-law. I felt about as confident being a mother-in-law as I did about dancing in front of all the wedding guests. Then again, I'd worried for years about whether I'd have any maternal instincts, but when the time came, all those instincts had kicked in. I figured being a mother-in-law shouldn't be much different.

Watching Allyson's makeover was almost as fun as getting my own. Though she doesn't need makeup to look beautiful, the skillful makeup accentuated her porcelain skin and vibrant blue eyes.

After Sumer slipped into her dress, she and the bridesmaids posed for a few more pictures, and then she took one with her mom. I was touched when I was invited to take a picture with her too. "Give her a kiss on the forehead," Ethan's stepmom, Erica, suggested. 

I hesitated, not wanting to mar her flawless makeup. "It's okay," Sumer reassured me. "Everyone's been kissing me." 

I gingerly pressed my lips close to her forehead, trying to fake a kiss without getting my lipstick on her skin, but the hug was real. "I'm so happy for you guys," I whispered. 

Despite my caution, I did smear a bit of color on her forehead, but it wiped off without leaving a mark. Whew!

I tried to make myself useful again by carrying Sumer's train as she descended the steep, wooden steps. The last thing I wanted was for her to tear her dress or even to trip on it. I could feel her nerves, and her mother's nerves. "I'm sorry I'm so stressed," Lisa said.

"I'm so scared," Sumer said.

"It's normal," I said. "I'd be worried if you weren't a little nervous. But it's going to be wonderful."

And it was. But that's another story...