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Day of celebrations

10am – civil wedding at Registry Office (15 miles away) just daughter, her partner, me, Hubby and son, he gatecrashed as it was only supposed to be the 4 of us. The bride wore a fetching ensemble of distressed jeans and cream sweatshirt, whilst the groom wore the male equivalent. It was pouring with rain but the extremely basic ceremony was anything but dull as all involved, including the registrar and the superintendent, laughed their way through it all. The two officials were lovely, really friendly and insisted on taking loads of photo’s. Hubby and I then rushed home, calling in at the other wedding venue on the way to check that all the preparations were on schedule and drop off the lunch boxes I had made up for the children, and then got changed out of our casual attire.

12.45pm – Arrived at the Catholic Church, 25 miles away, for Jack and Izzy’s baptism. Jack was perfect, took it all very seriously, Izzy was fine until the priest poured the water over her head at which point she protested, loudly. Hubby and I had travelled in separate cars as I was going back to the wedding/reception venue whist he was transporting the bride, bridesmaid and flower girls to our house for them to get ready for the next part of the day.

2pm – Arrived at the next venue, 18 miles from the last one, welcomed all the guests, decorated the trees, it had stopped raining and then helped SIL with ‘the boys’ as their Mummy was the bridesmaid.

3pm –  The bride arrived and Hubby escorted her to the edge of the woods (the ground was too wet for the original plan of having the ceremony in the woods) and the humanist ceremony took place. It was lovely, exactly what they wanted with all their friends and family joining in and loads of children racing around enjoying themselves and not irritating anyone as this was a far from solemn ceremony.  Outside there were toddler climbing frames, swings and slides, plus a bouncy castle, and inside there was face painting, so plenty to keep the rugrats amused. The food was great, especially considering the last minute change from bbq to buffet and everyone appeared to have a good time, it was like a huge family party.

7pm – All children had to leave so I took Jack and Izzy back to our house, 7 miles. When we got back I gave them a quick snack, bathed them, read them several stories, changed the Mother of the Bride outfit for one I could have a good dance in.

9pm – Left the baby-sitter with a list of phone numbers and returned to the evening celebrations.

1am – SIL drove me and an inebriated Hubby and BIL back to our house, they were staying the night and she was not drinking as she is on antibiotics.

2am – We turned in for the night.

3am – Izzy woke.

Sunday – Soooo tired!

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Overload

 Organising a wedding is traumatic, throw uncertain weather forecasts into the cauldron and you can picture the schizophrenic state daughter, future SIL and I are in at the moment.

Relatives staying with us for the weekend has added just a dash of manic housewifery to the mix.

Amy’s and the Boys Mummy being unwell has embellished the whirlwind that is me, as I am so concerned about her that I have stolen Amy, and she is now accompanying me through my organisational maze.  

It’s a bit like Christmas Eve really as then, once it gets to 6pm, I relax slightly as all the shops are shut. I’m just looking forward to bed-time tomorrow as then if it ain’t done, it ain’t ever going to be done!

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Tooth problem

Being really busy at the moment, hence no posts. Have I mentioned that daughter is getting married, well the countdown is now well underway, 19 days to go and there are lots and lots of little things still to arrange. Today I went to order the balloons, no luck, the shop is closed on a Monday, oh good, I can carry that task over to Wednesday. Whilst trotting round the shops I thought I would share my concerns about a wobbly front tooth with my dentist, I am becoming increasingly neurotic about it and certain that it will fall out the night before the wedding. Luckily my dentist (wonderful man + NHS) is used to emotional women and realised that the best thing to do would be to stop the wobbling, immediately. So, having told Hubby I was just nipping out to order balloons and buy some munchies for my  ‘rubbish’ cats, I found myself reclining, under the spotlight, whilst my knight in a blue tabard splinted my errant front, top tooth to it’s neighbours. and having done this he then filed down my teeth with much high frequency squealing. I am now learning how to eat again, my teeth have been relocated by fractions of millimetres but that has affected the whole biting and chewing process, very weird. I am now going to have to ensure that my mouth avoids accidental contact with the boys heads as that’s what initially caused the problem. Tomorrow sees daughter and I shopping manically shoes, underwear, handbag, earrings and golf gloves, the golf gloves are intended to mollify Hubby! 

Work has been horrendous for the last two weeks, we knew it was coming though as our bookings for May are nearly three times as many as we usually have in a month. Due to the number of postnatal visits I’ve been finishing 2 hours late everyday plus not having any breaks. Clinic day was a nightmare as clinic was full plus two extras, one of which was a booking which takes an hour and generates copious amounts of paperwork. I’ve escaped a bit this week though as I’ve taken 2 days holiday so I can sort out some of the stuff for the wedding. I’m not working until the weekend but that didn’t stop work phoning me 3 times today, is that harassment?

Last weekend Amy, Jamie and Louis stayed the night with us, it’s the first time we have had all 3 and I was anxious about how it would go, I need not have worried as they were brilliant. The boys woke at about 11.30pm but I just sat between their cots and chatted quietly for a while, they soon got bored and went to sleep, not to wake again until 8am, Amy didn’t wake until 8.30. Wonderful.

Saturday was Amy’s 4th birthday party, a bouncy castle birthday party for 25 pre-schoolers. Her Mummy had nominated me as the 2nd responsible adult so I was put in charge of the trampoline. ‘Bounce on the red cross, face in that direction, no knee drops, 1 child at a time.’ Have you any idea how difficult it is for a 4 year old to bounce on a trampoline, on one spot?

Evie (six and a half months) is up on all fours rocking backwards and forwards, I give her a fortnight before she is off and crawling. Izzy is well into the ‘terrible twos’ and her Mummy is despairing, wondering where her cute little girl has gone and how long she will have to accept this changling for. I find it all entertaining, Izzy is so cute and cheeky that it is difficult not to laugh when she does something naughty.

Off now to rest up before the shopping expedition.

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The BIG day

All went well at son’s wedding. The only disaster was that the person videoing the speeches pressed the pause button and missed the Groom’s and Best Man’s speeches, which was a shame since they were both excellent. No point bewailing it though, can’t turn the clock back.

The Bride looked beautiful, the Groom was handsome and the venue was perfect.

Amy, Jack and I danced the night away. After years of attempting to lure Hubby on to the dance floor so I would have a dancing companion I have solved the problem, take the Grandchildren to events with me!

My outfit was great, except for the ‘slimming body suit’ which gave up on it’s task after about 3 hours. If you look carefully at the photo you will note that the shoulder straps are extremely thin and really just a continuation of the edging around the top. I hadn’t even danced when one side decided to cease it’s association with the body of the suit, as a result I became the lop-sided woman. Nothing to do about it, just a shame that the suit is the only underwear you wear and, as I hadn’t got a spare set of underwear in my clutch bag, I was stuffed. Only thing I could do was drown my embarassment with the odd drink, or two.

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First exhibition

Jack’s design for the wedding menus which shows Son, DIL and their dog, Mabel. Hmmm, perhaps more Chagall than Cezanne.

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Nuptial News

Ten days to go until my little boy gets married. I’ve ordered the balloons, the ribbons for the wedding car are safely stored with the ‘pull bows’, must try one so I know how to do them, my hair and nail appointments are made. One daughter is making the table centres, Jack has drawn the picture that will be used on the menu and he and Amy are in training for handing out the ‘favours’ ( I am extremely doubtful about Amy being given a large basket of sweeties, son obviously has more faith in her than I do!). I have been depriving myself of carbohydrates and calorie heavy foodstuffs for weeks now hoping that I can shed some flesh and the skirt that I use to gauge if my efforts are successful is suggesting that I have gone down a clothes size. Yeah! Unfortunately I think I need to buy a different pair of shoes. I had bought a pair with open toes, then the other day my toe experienced a close encounter with the stairgate, the nail is now black, no concealing it in those shoes. A cover-up is needed.

Mother has put a spanner in the works, I want to strangle her. When son first announced his wedding plans she said that she didn’t think that she would go as it is a civil ceremony and, being a rabid catholic, she couldn’t condone it. “Up to you Mother”. Then she thought about it and decided that she would condescend to go. A week ago she phoned me to say that she wouldn’t be attending as my step-father would be going on an annual walk that weekend. I would like to say that I was speechless but that would be untrue, I was eloquent in the extreme. “Stop right there Mother. You said ‘annual’, it’s a annual event this walk. Right, that means that it happens every year. Your grandson is getting married for the first, and hopefully, the only time this, or any other, year. Now, let me get this straight, you feel that an annual walk is more important than an invitation to the most important event in your grandson’s life?” Her response was to ask me to tell son that she wouldn’t be going to his wedding. I declined the offer and this is when she started explaining that stepdad doesnt even know about the wedding and she doesn’t want to stop him going on his walk because he is ‘bi-polar’ and it might ‘tip him’. Bi-polar my a**e. If there is anyone with, or causing, a psychiatric disorder it is the mother from hell. My poor sister was immediately alerted to Mum’s calumny, I think I was mostly intelligible whilst relaying the essence of the conversation. I was so angry I was shaking. Last I heard mother has decided that she will come without her husband. Pondering about tipping someone over the edge, by asking them to make a choice, has me questioning about whether not telling him there is a choice could be equally destructive if, or when, he finds out.

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Wedding duty

I’ve been given a task for son’s wedding, ribbons and balloons. I’m really excited and flying in there with my usual, initial, enthusiasm. The ribbons for the balloons have already been ordered and I’m just waiting for a reply from soon-to-be DIL about whether they want ordinary plastic weights or little boxes. I’ve decided that it will be more economical to buy a helium cylinder and fill the balloons myself, and easier as I can blow them up at the venue rather than have to drive there with a car full of air-filled, might explode balloons. Now I’m just musing upon the ribbons for the decorations, organza wired or just easy-pull, organza would look prettier but rely upon my creative skills, have to practice methinks. I would love to be artistic but cross-stitch is really as far as it goes, I suppose my efforts at cake decoration would count but school really stopped my creative flow.

In the dim and distant past my school made you choose between art and domestic science or physics and chemistry. You could only pick p & c if you were getting the right grades, unfortunately I was plus I was better, and safer at the sciences than the creative stuff. Cooking was always quite exciting as you could never be quite sure how something would turn-out, nothing has really changed there and I like to blame an intolerant D.S teacher for that! Art was a subject I loved. Okay, so the lino printing was dangerous as I could never seem to stop the gouger from doing it’s job, only not on the lino, on my hand but I just enjoyed being allowed to experiment with so many wonderful materials. Anyway, my choice of subjects was decided for me and  at first I had to limit my experimentation to carefully controlled potions in the lab. My parents, I think hoping to encourage me in my sciences, provided me with my own chemistry set, complete with one of those burners full of methylated spirits. I used to have such fun distilling potions, burning magnesium tape, making potassium permanganate solutions and then reducing them back again the salts, but after the episode when I became distracted by a phone-call, and set fire to my pin board, and then an admission to hospital to have my eyes washed out following an accident with the KMn04 (it turns the whites of your eyes brown), I was banished to the garage and the following winter saw my enthusiasm for home experimentation disappear. Just think, if I had been allowed to follow my heart I could now be the second Nigella or Tracey.

Still on the wedding theme, I’m off next week to begin the search for that perfect outfit. You know, the one that will camouflage the Rubenesque quality of my physique, highlight the colour of my eyes and make me look 6″ taller. I have this feeling I may be unsuccessful unless I lower my parameters.

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