The hitchin' post

Wedding bells were ringing around here yesterday! Chris' sister spent her last morning sharing the same name as me, and it was one heck of a day. Everything was really very nice, the flowers and dresses, decorations and reception -- it was all beautiful and fun. But I've noticed that some weddings can be spot on when it comes to all the periphery - food, planning, all the bells and whistles -- and they still can't compare in any way to the ones centered around a couple who are just clearly in love and clearly eager to devote the rest of their lives to each other. There is just a special spark to everything when the priorities are right, when the priorities are on, well, getting married instead of putting on a really kicking party. The ceremony, the couple themselves, the very air that affects the kind of enjoyment the guests have are all brightened, clarified, infused with a type of beauty that is kind of like the difference in scenery on a particularly sunny day.

That being said, Dante and Becky's wedding was really beautiful. In every possible way. While watching them exchanging vows on the alter, I was - to paraphrase Anne of Green Gables - just filled with deep-down, bottom-of-the-heart gladness.

All of this joy and sunny-happy-la-la-la, though, was for Chris and I filtered through a jumble of chaos and frustration at the hands of our children. They were really pretty good, the move and the cancer and all things considered.....But..........big old sigh, it was a tough afternoon. Abbie seems to have developed a fear of crowds, my guess being that, to her, any stranger could plausibly suddenly spring some sleeping gas on her, leaving her to yet again wake up with more boo-boos that she doesn't understand. From that perspective, her behavior makes sense, but it was still frustrating. We had been so hopeful that she would be okay, that we would be able to dance and be silly as a family together, that Chris and I could have snuck in a slow dance here or there, that visiting and talking with people who are hardly ever seen but much thought of would be easy and enjoyable.........but it all was just not possible, given the uptight and cranky baby who couldn't decide what might make the evening bearable. The real killer, though, was that right as Abbie finally calmed down and realized that a wedding can be fun, right as she turned back into her sweet self and we began to enjoy ourselves, Claire flashed me a surprised look and then puked all over herself.

That was bad enough, but I actually managed to clean her up pretty well, and as we headed back into the reception room I told myself that there was no real harm done, and that we would manage to squeak through the last hour or so just fine. But - silly me - the first vomit was just a preliminary, and the second left us with no choice but to cut our losses and go home.

So, although neither of us will ever be reconciled to the fact that we missed seeing Dante and Becky off, hopefully with time all the happiness and beauty of the day will remain and the frustrations will fade somewhat, leaving us laughing at our dumb luck and the ticklish stomaches of our children that so often propel us away from social situations before we're ready to go.

And what I will really laugh about, in the future, is the tense and embarrassed conversation I had with Claire, during the gospel reading, about a foot from the priest, when she suddenly had the desperate need to discuss how much wedding cake she could have. Let's just say that #1- she was not happy with the amount of time she was going to have to endure before said cake, and #2- God was clearly not happy with her priorities, because when the much anticipated cake did come, it certainly did her no good.