MONKEY DOODLE DADDY & I GOT MARRIED!!! :)
And, I have to say-- for all the craziness and running around like maniacs and umpteen bazillion hours of planning and crafting and meeting with various people-- overall?
It was absolutely amazing.
Monkey was the flower girl, with the requisite, unbearably cute ruffly dress to match her Mommy. I made her headband and flower girl basket, with the help of my equally crafty and very patient bridesmaid.
Monkey's "attendant gift" was a diamond monkey pendant.
Diamond CHIP- I'm not stupid. She's only four, after all.
Monkey's big sis--now, OFFICIALLY my stepdaughter-- was our junior bridesmaid. She wore a slightly altered version of the bridesmaid dresses. And looked much older than anyone was prepared for, I think. Very proud and beautiful.
Which, BTW- major retailer for bridal gowns, which rhymes with Shmavid's? You can go suck an egg, for discontinuing your own "signature" color, just WEEKS after we ordered the last dress in that color. Jerks.
Also? Dresses for eight-year-old girls should LOOK like dresses for eight-year-old-girls. She did not need skimpy little spaghetti straps or a dipping neckline, thanks... She's EIGHT.
I am eternally grateful to our seamstress (who was in no way, shape, or form associated with Schmavid's), who managed to adapt the dress to give her a ruffly strap that was much more age-appropriate. And still beautiful.
OK, I can be done with that now.
But, for realz, I have never in my life felt so much love and support as I did in that room. Our families, friends, church members, all positively BEAMED love and light at us.
It was all I could do to just soak it in, and try to express my gratitude.
We had a very cute incident with our little diva. The best man gave his lovely toast, as did our maid of honor (the previously blogged-about gift-of-God known as Ti-Ti).
Monkey saw the microphone. So, you knew it was coming...
She inserted herself between her dad and me at the head table, with the big, frowny, I'm-about-to-REALLY-cry face. We asked what was wrong.
Monkey: ...<sniff>...I would like a turn!
MDDaddy: What? ...Wait, with the mic?
Monkey (closer to crying now): YEEEeeeeeees.
We looked at each other. In some degree of fear. We know her very well. There is a roomful of our nearest and dearest and the four-year-old wants the microphone. It's a crapshoot.
MDDaddy: Ok, well...what would you want to say?
Monkey: <no response...thinking hard>
MDDaddy: Ehhh...I don't know...
Me (trying to ward off the impending flip-out): Ok, well...how about you go up there with Ti-Ti? She can help you say what you want to say. Would that work?
With a big grin, Monkey skips over to where Ti-Ti stands with the microphone.
Ti-Ti: Oh! Well, OK, folks. It seems the *daughter* of the bride and groom has something she would like to say... (points the mic towards Monkey)
Monkey looks around the room.
Then, takes off running to where her grandparents were sitting.
Without skipping a beat, Ti-Ti adds:
Cue the roomful of laughter, and "awww" chorus.
That kid can work a room, I tell ya.
...So can Ti-Ti, thank goodness.
As a bride with the big day pending, I went through about a solid week of all the ridiculous pre-wedding anxiety nightmares. The best one was about a week prior. I woke up laughing.
Because in the dream, we were preparing for the zombie apocalypse.
Which, thankfully, was NOT the actual wedding-- I know this solely because, in the dream, we were already wearing our rings.
MDDaddy expressed his relief that it was rather considerate of the zombies to hold of on the apocalypse until AFTER our wedding.
Hard to argue with that.
Unfortunately, Hurricane/Super-storm Sandy was not nearly so considerate, and our best man (MDD's brother) wound up stranded with us, 900 miles from his wife and children. Not that it was at all an issue to have him with us, but it is really hard to see someone you care about- an amazing father and husband- so stressed and frustrated and worried about his family... and there being precious little you can do to fix it.
Luckily, he managed to get home via a flight to Boston and drive to Connecticut, albeit a few days after he had planned to return.
All in all, the day itself was beyond my wildest dreams.
...Even the zombie apocalypse one.
I shall now go eat more leftover cake.