"Okay, so what all do we need to get done this morning?"
If it weren't for these girls, I would have lost it. I promised not to be bridezilla, and my dear friend gave the best advice of, "...just stay calm and take everything in." Therefore, when I realized just how much I had to do before walking down the aisle, I didn't sweat it. Instead, we made a pretty little list of "To do's" and got around to leave the hotel.
Breakfast, really? How in the world was I going to force something down into my belly while there were more nerves fluttering around in there than bees in a sweet honeycomb? Well, I tried. Believe me, you can ask the girls, I tried. I did manage to get part of a brown sugar poptart down (dabbed with a little butter, just like my momma used to fix for me when I was little...comfort food) and grabbed a banana to take on the way.
First stop of the day? Hobby Lobby. We ran in, went straight to the wedding section, and picked up my garter. It wasn't until I was standing in the aisle, surrounding by wedding decor, that I realized I didn't have a guest book pen, toasting flutes, or anything to use to serve the cake. Therefore, I picked up a few of these last minute things while reluctantly dialing future hubby to ask him to bring our crystal champagne flutes from the house when he went up to the country club.
While I was rushing around, my amazing (and I do mean AMAZING) groom was dealing with his own set of issues. 1) The beautiful baby grand piano (gutted and rotted from being out in a fire pit prior to our rescue) had to make it from Point A, our back patio, to Point B, the reception site, 2) Once arriving at the clubhouse, he found himself asking, "Where was the wedding designer/decorator/florist?"...along with the other questions of, 3) "Why aren't the tables set up downstairs?", 4) "Where is the rental items we requested and paid for, and 5)"How am I going to do everything the way my (obsessive compulsive) bride wanted BY MYSELF?" AND being the AMAZING person he was (as I mentioned above), he managed to keep all of these issues from me as to not make me worry.
Come to find out, our decorator didn't even show up at the venue until approximately 3 hours before guests were to arrive. Did I mention we were having an outdoor wedding? Oh, and this outdoor wedding was taking place at a location that never has weddings. The country club had booked a tournament on the same day as our wedding, leaving our lovely tables that were supposed to be hand delivered and set up for us that morning...inside, upstairs, in a room surrounded by people eating. The owner didn't even so much as mention to the workers that day that there was a wedding. Also, the rental items showed up (without the promised phone call ahead of time) on the back of a trailer. And that is where they stayed until future hubby had to help himself and set up over 200 chairs just like so.
La-ti-da. I was making the rounds at Target, Walmart, and stopping at the house to pick up the items I had conveniently forgotten before making it to our 10:45am appointment at the salon.
Let me just say this, despite the expense of getting a stylist and makeup artist, it was totally worth having someone make me up to feel like a princess. Hours of sitting with some of my best girl friends in the world, a can of hairspray, and eyelashes longer than the shorelines, I was ready to go.
Approximately two o'clock in the afternoon we left to grab lunch. By this time, I was ready to eat. AND keeping with my high sodium diet, I had McDonald's french fries. The whole thing of them. Then, I called to touch base with the rest of the world to make sure we were still on schedule.
Negative.
Since I had hired two of the most amazing photographers in the world, they had committed (and being the only loyal vendors we hired) they followed through with being on time. I, however, was not. Since everything was so chaotic around the site, my AMAZING groom was tied up...still. This meant a short trip with the girls to get ready at the new house. Oh, and did I mention that my mom was stuck helping all morning so she was running late as well? Oh, and that she had the very gown I was supposed to be sweetly laced up right about...now.
An hour after we were supposed to start pictures, my mom arrived to meet us at the clubhouse upstairs. Looking out the window, people were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. My designer was no where to be found, and thankfully my incredibly life-saving cousin was there to take the reigns. She started fumbling around to take tables downstairs in place of the missing guest book table and gift table. She tied black cloth (totally not matching, but very appreciated) around the tables and started setting things up. She met with the cake decorators, directed them where to place the cakes, tied ribbons on the back of chairs, placed pictures where needed, and managed to do so in a little black dress...with a smile on her face. All the while, I sat upstairs avoiding being seen by my handsome groom and the guests arriving on time.
Pictures were nearly impossible to take ahead of time with the bridal party, and flowers were no where to be found. Therefore, I looked at my sister (pretty close to breaking down in tears) told her how awful the day was, and said, "I am just so ready to get down there and get married." Then, it hit me. That is what the day was supposed to feel like. It didn't matter about the chaos and drama that surrounded it, or the million and one questions people were asking to try to pull this thing off...it was supposed to feel like I was ready. A few quick shots and we were literally moments away from the ceremony beginning.
Wait, my something old?
My baby bonnet made into a hanky tucked inside my gown.
Something new? My precious cameo to match my big sister. Check.
Something borrowed? A strand of pearls from my grandmother's jewelry collection.
Something blue? My handwritten, chicken-scratch scribbled vows that were conveniently written with a blue pen just before getting into my gown. I had slipped on some beautiful pearl earrings from my mom's jewelry until they were soon replaced with my very own pair when the best man arrived with a tiny box. I opened it and found the most precious diamond and pearl earrings I had ever seen as a gift from my future hubby.
And last, but not least, I rounded the corner down the stairwell as everyone hustled to the ceremony as the music began. "Where's my daddy?" Then, just as always, he came to the rescue. I plopped down on the stairstep as my daddy pulled a "special" penny (dated the year I was born) that he had been keeping close all week. He kneeled down on the ground and slipped the worn copper piece into my ruffled white high heel.
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