Oh friends. I’m sorry I’ve been out of commission as of late. It’s been a bit busy in my neck of the woods- in the midst of tons of the usual holiday stuff, family visiting, and wrapping up the fall semester, my sweet baby sister got married! Oh happy days. It genuinely was super fantastic.
Weddings are funny for me. Largely because I never know how to act. I didn’t do the whole “wedding” thing. I mean, I got married, and in fact, I’ve done it twice, so really I’m more experienced than most. But as far as the whole “check-out-my-2,000+ pins-on-my-wedding-board” thing, I’ve got nothin. I’ve only been in two weddings, my sister’s and my cousin’s, and in each of those I served as matron of honor. Though, if I’m being honest, I was more of an honorary matron than a matron of honor. And I was fortunate enough that both of these beautiful brides acknowledged my complete inability to fulfill those duties by selecting a second maid of honor who actually knew what to do and did it well. Kathryn and Candice, if you’re reading this- ladies, you have mad skills in the maid-of-honor department. If it had been left up to me, both brides would probably have had bachelorette parties in my living room watching Pretty Woman and drinking wine out of plastic cups (but you know, the nice ones that look like glass even though they aren’t).
Luckily, these events didn’t come to pass, and, unless they’re just really polite and convincing, both of these precious ladies had super wedding experiences that lived up to their expectations. Which got me thinking. Have I told you about my funny wedding experience? Not funny haha. Funny ironic. Which, if you’re like me, is just as good as funny haha, and sometimes even better.
I am amazed when I see the pomp and circumstance that goes into weddings today. Not being judgy here people- I just literally am amazed at the production that goes into weddings. My sister and cousin actually plan and coordinate these things for a living, so it’s no wonder their own weddings were perfect reflections of who they are and what they’re about. They are geniuses at what they do. Flowers, caterers, musicians, event sites, the whole shebang. It’s like watching a carefully choreographed dance. I honestly don’t know how they do it. I used to fancy myself an artist, but y’all, I’m no artist. I have absolutely zero creative vision for this kind of thing. I like dressing up and wearing makeup and occasionally doing something with my hair that goes beyond brushing it, but I am completely without inspiration when it comes to putting on a show for other people. Host a party? Forget it. And isn’t a wedding really the ultimate party for all your closest friends, with you as the bride and groom at the center of everything? Yikes. I can work a room with the best of them, but please don’t ask me to do it as part of a major life event. I can either be in charge of the vision and the execution of the show, or I can be in it, but I sure as hell can’t do both.
Here comes the irony: you guys know me at this point. I am the ultimate over-achiever. If there’s a mountain to climb, I’m going to climb it. In a snowstorm. In the winter. Without oxygen. (And of course I’m speaking metaphorically here- I’m not scaling any hills, let alone mountains, no matter how much of an achievement it would be.) But y’all. A wedding is where I draw the line. The hubs and I talked about getting married from the day we started dating (yeah, I know, kind of obnoxious), and I seriously never thought of a wedding. I just thought of being married. So it came as no shock when we didn’t actually get engaged- I couldn’t even tell you the date, or even month, we decided we were doing this for real. I just remember us heading to my parents’ house for a weekend, him riding to Kroger with my daddy, and then coming back with the words, “looks like this thing is a go.” Yep. That’s seriously how it happened
And even as we figured out how we’d get married, the whole “wedding” notion really never took over. I thought it might, you know, light a little spark of creativity in me, but no such luck. I think he and I are just practical to a fault. Instead of buying an engagement ring, he paid off my car. And instead of a honeymoon, wepaid off my credit card debt. Instead of a big venue and a fancy dress, we opted for the courthouse, with a bouquet bought by my dear friend Evah, and a $48 dress from Express, which I’ve worn about a zillion times since. We picked our wedding date based on two major factors: 1) I had big interviews for a promotion at work, and if they didn’t go well, I needed the reassurance that the best of my life was still ahead of me, and 2) since we didn’t want anyone at work to know what we were doing (because we worked together, and he’d at one point been my boss, and you know…drama), we figured it would be easier for me to sneak away for a three-day weekend the week following big interviews than any other time. I know. Soooooo romantic.
But you guys. Here’s the thing- that stuff actually was romantic to me. In fact, it’s still pretty dang romantic when I think about it. My fella knew that I didn’t want a bunch of fancy-schmancy stuff. I’m just not that into designer duds and expensive jewelry and exotic trips.
I am into going to bed without worrying about how we’ll pay our bills tomorrow. I’m into staying up late working on this silly blog, and waking up to someone who’s already been out to get my oil changed and my tires rotated. We totally flunked that game where you guess little snippets of your partner’s personality- I don’t know his favorite color, we don’t have a song, and I can’t remember his favorite foods. I do know he likes how I cut his hair, he likes to eat junior mints when he thinks I’m not paying attention, and he still likes kissing me even after I’ve eaten my famous spicy enchiladas. I can get past all that other whatever because, to me, the wedding was just one more thing between me and being married to my absolute BFF. See? Romantic.
And that’s what I saw this weekend. Romance.
Y’all my gorgeous sister got married in the morning. She didn’t have a wedding cake. They had coffee and breakfast food, and there was no dancing or wild music.
But there was this beautiful bride, soaking up the attention of her groom, like none of us were even there to begin with. I have never seen a woman so happy as my sister was that day. That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? Maybe you do it big, maybe you sneak off all shady and elope, or maybe you’re somewhere in between. Maybe there’s a beautiful cake, or a Krispy Kreme bread pudding (my actual wedding cake), or grits, eggs, and bacon like my sweet sis. So long as there’s romance- the kind that makes your heart flutter and your knees shake a little, where you try to look straight ahead, but can’t help peeking at your partner, where your words get jumbled and your palms get sweaty- so long as that’s there, friend, you have it all. And I sure hope you do.