“Awww man!”

“Ow!”

I peeked around the corner to see the cause of Z-Man’s distress.

“Aaaaah!”

He was alone so I melted back before he saw me.

“I can’t DO it!”

“Rrrrrrrrr!”

Finally he trudged over.

“I need some water”

“What for?”

Wordlessly he pointed to his right knee which looked like a long string of bubble gum had been swirled around the kneecap several times before getting stuck.

“Oh dear, how did that happen?” Dumb question; he’d been warned many, many times to stop pulling gum out of his mouth and playing with it.

He shrugged, but his face gave him away. I decided not to pursue it; my goal was for him to stop playing with his gum, so making him admit his guilt wasn’t important.

Trying to practice Love and Logic, I empathized, then put the problem back on him: “Oh, that’s too bad. What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” He looked so sad I almost took pity on him – almost.

“You could try rubbing it off with tissues.”

He grabbed a handful of tissues and set to work.

It wasn’t long before he was back.

“It won’t come off!” he wailed.

“Ohhh, that’s too bad.” I empathized, “Would you like some help?”

He nodded.

Since we were out of peanut butter and I wanted to be sure he wouldn’t forget the consequences of playing with his gum I started picking the gum off with my fingernails. I tried very hard not to pinch skin but the gum was stuck in his little hairs and didn’t want to come off.

It wasn’t pleasant for either of us. Z-Man alternated between giggling and whining, and wiggled so much I had a hard time grabbing the gum without pinching him. With supper and rest breaks thrown in it took several hours before his knee was gum-free, but finally his knee was clean. Whew!

Hopefully next time he has bubble gum he’ll remember to keep it in his mouth. If not, I hope he sticks it in his hair. I’ll bet he’ll never forget having some of his hair buzzed off because it had gum in it!

“Nooo! I don’t want to have swimming lessons!”

“Please don’t make me, please, please please!”

Z-Man wasn’t thrilled with the idea of swimming lessons in May when I first signed him up.

“They’re not for a loooong time, honey. We’ll talk about it later.”

I know when to pick my battles.

Swimming lessons were only mentioned in passing a couple of times in June and the beginning of July.

Gradually he got used to the idea.

In fact, by the middle of July he was so excited about them he drove me crazy asking what day his lessons started. Over and over and over and over again.

Finally it was the first day of swimming lessons! Z-Man was in his swimming suit and downstairs before 7:00am.

He was not a happy camper when I told him it wasn’t time to go for another two hours.

Since they were at 9:30am I couldn’t go to his first two lessons, but I had Wednesday off so I could watch him then.

I don’t know if he’s learning many skills, but he sure is having a great time.

Little Guy went along to play in the wading pool.

He’s not fond of getting his face wet.

At first he ran for a towel every time he got splashed.

But it didn’t take long for him to get over it.

I think he’ll be ready for lessons next summer!

Some things you should know before you read this post:

• 1. My taste is usually the opposite of Teacher’s
• 2. I’m not very fond of change
• 3. “Compromise” means you do things my way
• 4. I have caviar taste but a tuna fish budget
• 5. I’m terrible at making decisions

With these things in mind you can imagine how much fun it was when Teacher and I decided we had to do something about our poor, run-down, used and abused love seats.

The love seats were first purchased by my parents the same year Teacher and I were married. They the love seats, not my parents started out in my parents’ living room – a room which also housed our piano, a record player < -- linky for those of you too young to know what a record player is and a couple of end tables. The room should have been referred to by the old-fashioned name, “Sitting Room,” because it was mainly used for obligatory piano practice my parents’ after-work cup of coffee and newspaper time.

About seven years ago the love seats entered our crazy household when my parents bought a new couch and gave the love seats to us. Freshly cleaned, Scotch-Guarded, Amish-made, and barely used, they were in almost-new condition.

Sadly, that didn’t last long.

My mom thinks it was the cleaner’s use of water-based solution instead of the solvent-only solution called for on the care tags that did it…

I think it was the endless parade of daycare children and constant use and abuse by our active family that was the cause – after just four years in our household the fabric began to shred.

One day the button on the back pocket of my jeans got so tangled in a cushion’s loose threads that I couldn’t stand up until Teacher cut me loose. Actually, I could stand up but I’d have a cushion attached to my butt. I chose to stay seated until I was rescued. That weekend we purchased duvet covers to throw over the love seats so they wouldn’t try to eat unsuspecting guests.

In the usual way of things, the days flew by so quickly that we didn’t have time to do anything more about the love seats for over a year – except for the fluffing, folding, rearranging, tucking and fussing I did with the duvet covers innumerable times a day.

Finally, fed up with those duvet covers, I decided it was time to do something about the love seats NOW! We couldn’t afford to buy new ones, and everything except the fabric was in such excellent shape that we didn’t want to throw them out, so we decided to reupholster. Following a friend’s recommendation I found a guy who used to work for a big upholstery company. His price was half of what the other companies quoted me, all we had to do was find fabric.

This is where things get interesting – remember the list at the top of the page? We started out at JoAnns, and it didn’t take long for us to realize that the pictures in our heads were vastly different. When I say our tastes are different I’m not exaggerating; it took Teacher and me three years of looking to agree on a comforter! For the love seats Teacher was imagining a fabric with a definite pattern and some depth. I was picturing something neutral, with a small pattern that would disappear when you unfocused your eyes. Neither JoAnns or Hancock had anything to make our hearts go pitty-pat so we decided to check out the place suggested by Brook, aka “the upholstery guy.”

After a 45 min drive we found the place – a huge warehouse-style building surrounded by cornfields and nothing else. Inside it looked like an overstock sale married a flea market; a huge variety of unrelated items – maybe leftovers from other discount stores – were displayed helter-skelter on the shelves. I didnt’ think that we’d find what we were looking for until I saw two rows of triangular shelves displaying roll after roll of upholstery fabric.

Hooray!

None of the fabrics had a content or care label, just a price tag, so Teacher and I had to rely on our instincts. Starting on one end of the first row we methodically unwrapped a corner of each roll to see if we liked the look of it. If we did we’d unroll it further to check the feel, thickness and durability of the fabric. Eventually we narrowed our choices down to three fabrics: a bold silver and purple floral, a multicolored design of intertwined leaves, and heathered greenish tan.

After a surprisingly short debate we decided on the greenish tan. Not only did we both like it a lot, it seemed the most durable – and it was only $5/yard! At home we draped the fabric over one of the love seats and knew we’d made a good choice.

Not only was Brook aka “the upholstery guy” inexpensive, he was FAST too! He picked up the love seats Wednesday and returned them the following Monday. He Scotch-Guarded them for free, and gave us the rest of the bottle to maintain the protection. Can’t beat that customer service!

Want to see the finished love seats?

Drumroll please…

Ta-da!

Brook said the fabric was actually indoor/outdoor fabric and would definitely hold up to the wear and tear of the daycare and our family. He also said that if we’d gotten it retail it could have cost as much as $30/yard. Score!

The fabric has absolutely NO give to it so we don’t have to worry about it stretching and getting saggy – unless the cushions deteriorate. Knock on wood that they’ll hold up another twenty-some years!

The fabric feels kind of silky and smooth – not too fuzzy hot for the summer but not too slippery cold for the winter.

And the bonus? There’s nothing under or behind the couches right now!

How long do you think that’ll last?

A vacation is a wonderful thing.

No matter how much you love your job – and I love my job a lot – it’s always nice to take some time off to relax. This year I planned my week of vacation to coincide with a visit from College Boy, Irish Girl, and Love Bug.

You look like Jesus! was the greeting as College boy walked into the house. Can’t argue that one – I don’t understand why he always looks like Jesus – or a young Wolfman Jack – whenever he visits.

If you read my previous post you’ll understand why I don’t have many good photos of him and have to use the same photo again and again.

“She’s getting so big!” Angel Face was thrilled to see her niece – as you can tell by the huge grin on her face.

Z-man was excited to see Love Bug too, but not so excited to see mom with the camera again.

My poor kids can’t go anywhere or do anything without mom and her camera.

We were all wondering what the cousins would think of each other. At first they eyed each other up – Peanut is used to being the youngest around here and I don’t think Love Bug has had many opportunities to play with other kids. It wasn’t long before they were playing with each other though. Peanut even learned to say Love Bug’s name!

Even though they’re eight months apart Love Bug is almost as tall as Peanut! But you could tell that Love Bug is younger because she still walks with a Frankenstein lurch while Peanut is perfecting her climbing skills.

She’s so adorable I could just eat her up!

Too bad her dad looks like Jesus.

College Boy and I have had an ongoing competition:

I try to take his picture,

And he tries to avoid having his picture taken.

He’s become an expert with the hand block.

And the arm block.

I’m pretty good tenacious with the sneak attack. But not quite good enough yet.

Sometimes I get lucky and catch him when he’s distracted.

I suspect he enjoys the game more than he minds having his picture taken. Just look at that smirk!

But that’s OK, because in the end I always win.

I play the Grandma card.

Works every time.

When we bought our house it came with a garden behind the garage. Obviously long neglected, the garden was overrun with weeds and cilantro – so much cilantro that after pulling it all out I couldn’t stand the smell of cilantro for years and years and years. Now it’s one of my favorite herbs – how’s that for ironic?

Since moving into the house I’ve tried to take better care of the garden but have to admit I haven’t always been able to keep up. The first several summers I was obsessed with gardening and spent hours digging in the dirt, but when I was pregnant or nursing Z-Man and Little Guy I wasn’t physically able to spend much time in the garden. Now that the boys are older my interest in gardening has been rekindled.

Teacher knows how much I love digging in the dirt, so he’s always willing to lend a hand – especially when it comes to the physical stuff. Last year he helped add peat moss, milorganite, sand and compost to the soil. We don’t have a tiller so he did it all with a shovel and rake. A double treat for me; it improved the garden and I got to watch him wield that shovel. Mmm-mmm

This year he decided to build me a raised garden. I hadn’t even considered one so I was very surprised – and excited – when he told me.

This is more or less what the garden has always looked like except sometimes there’s more veggies and weeds. At one time we had a fence around it but I got tired of leaning or climbing over it so we took it down. It didn’t keep the rabbits out anyway, it just made my life difficult.

The side view… In the near corner is a parsley plant that keeps coming back year after year I thought parsley wasn’t supposed to come back and on the far end by the shovel are my headstrong grow-wherever-I-want-and-you-can’t-stop-me strawberry and raspberry plants.

Two lots over is my parent’s back yard. It’s like a fairy tale forest, all lush and enclosed, and much better maintained than our child-infested yard.

I’d originally planted the strawberries in the front and the raspberries behind them but over the years they’ve intermingled – and invited some weeds to the party. I can’t wait to bring some order to this mess!

Teacher had off the Friday of Memorial Day weekend so he spent most of the day building the garden frame. I had daycare so I couldn’t take photos. The weekend was busy, but Teacher and Uncle Jon found time to get enough dirt to fill 1/4 of the garden. I was able to plant that section right away, and looked forward to having the rest of the dirt delivered a couple of days later.

Unfortunately it started to rain.

And it rained.

And rained.

And rained.

It rained so much the delivery guy couldn’t get our dirt cuz it had turned to mud. We needed a couple of sunny days so the dirt could dry out a bit. But it kept raining.

For over two weeks straight it rained, with only one twenty-four hour period without rain. I wonder how Noah ever survived forty days of rain without going stark raving mad.

It would’ve been perfect for the garden, if we’d been able to get the plants in beforehand.

Finally the rain stopped, the sun came out, and one happy Monday the dirt arrived. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-oo-oo-oo-jah!

Help arrived too!

Dad and Uncle Jon’s girlfriend, Diana, filled while Uncle Jon muscled the blue wheelbarrow around to the back of the garage.

Jo-Bear’s friend E brought his wheelbarrow and did his own share of muscling it around.

Angel Face did her part filling buckets for Jo-Bear and his friend T to carry back to the garden.

Z-Man got into the act too, filling five-gallon buckets half-way for Jo-Bear and his friends to carry.

And of course Little Guy had to join into the fun too, filling an ice cream bucket about halfway full…

Then carrying it around back to proudly dump into the garden.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch in the garden, Teacher spread all the dirt that everyone brought to him. I did this job when we filled the first section and it’s much, much harder than it looks.

As soon as the garden was filled I started planting. It was supposed to rain again at night so I wanted to get the plants in right away. I’d originally wanted to plan out which plants would go where, but with the impending rain and a meeting that night I was happy just to get all the plants in the dirt. It’s a good thing I hurried; just as I finished it started sprinkling – perfect timing!

Ta-da! Here’s my raised garden, all done, filled, and planted!

Kindly ignore the toys; such is life with children.

This is the first section that was planted. In the back are tomatoes, in the front are strawberries, and in the middle are cilantro, beans, basil, raspberries, and parsley. I’ve been looking into square foot gardening and did a modified version. I couldn’t wrap my head around a single square foot for tomatoes so I spread them out over several feet.

I started lettuce from seeds in a planter during the monsoon, hoping it wouldn’t be too fragile to transplant. When I transplanted I gave them lots and lots and lots of water, and I think they’ll be OK.

I transplanted the raspberries from where they were growing against the garage. To avoid stressing them too much I tried to keep hunks of dirt around the roots. They seem happy so it must have worked.

My lettuce seedlings; aren’t they cuuuuuute?! I love watching seedlings grow; it’s so exciting to go out every morning and see how much taller they are, or that they’ve grown another leaf. It’s kind of like watching kids grow, but much faster.

Strawberries; transplanted with hunks of dirt on their roots like the raspberries were. I took a lot of personal satisfaction in pulling the weeds away from my precious berries. Take THAT, you nasty weeds!

And another view of my new raised garden. The bare areas have been planted with more beans, peas, beets, and onions. Hopefully they’ll have time to produce before the frost, despite their late start. I can’t wait to see and taste all the veggies from our garden this fall.

And I’ve made a diagram of what’s planted where this year, so over the winter I can see where the berries are when I plan next year’s garden.

I love my raised garden SO much!!

What about you – do you garden? What do you like to grow?

Little Guy is ready for the parade! It’ll be a short parade (only about half an hour) so we didn’t bring any snacks or anything. Oops, I forgot the kids’ flags too! You can tell it’s the first parade of the season – I’m out of practice.

In the background, Cowboy just arrived with Peanut.

I didn’t realize I still had my camera on “burst” from Angel Face’s last soccer game, so I got three shots of Little Guy.

I’m glad I did – it’s a really cute progression.

Here’s Cowboy and Peanut! Cowboy did her hair before they left home but she pulled it out in the car. He does pretty well for a guy who didn’t have any younger sisters to practice on.

Little Guy is about to die from boredom, but Z-Man musters a smile for mom.

Wait, do I hear a siren?

I did hear a siren! Look boys – the police care is the beginning of the parade!

Following the police car is the Marines Honor Guard. Now THESE guys know how to march.

Oops! The down side to having my camera on “burst” is that I ended up with lots of shots of the road, the back of the boys’ heads, my feet, etc.

Peanut loves to cuddle on Great Grandma’s lap but isn’t sure about all the noise and people. Don’t mind my mom’s expression; she HATES having her photo taken.

The first band of the day is the City Band. I recognize several faces as area school band directors but my two friends who play flute in City Band aren’t there; they don’t march.

Next is the American Legion. It’s nice to see you, but let’s get to my favorite part – the marching bands!

Then a jeep which Z-Man and Little Guy thought was really cool.

They were more impressed with the trolley though.

“Mom, can regular people ride that?”
“Yes, anyone can ride the trolley.”
“Can we go on the trolley?”
“I don’t know, maybe sometime this summer.”

Vietnam Vets. Thank you for your service to our country.

The Vietnam Vets float. It ain’t nearly as stunning as the Rose Bowl floats, but it’s not bad for middle America.

Hey, I hear a band!

Now THIS is what I want to see: a marching band! I’ve had marching band fever in my blood since 1986 when I was in summer marching band, but that’s a story for another time.

Aack! Girls, check your angles; you’re all over the place!

The bands are always pretty rocky for the Memorial Day parade. Many of the kids don’t care about marching; they just do it because it’s required for their grade. West’s front line is pretty straight though – nice going!

Awww, little kids in parades are always so cute. They’ll be pooped little puppies by the end of the route though.

We’re in strong Republican territory so Teacher thought this float was hilarious. “There are the local Democrats – both of them…”

A sad reminder of what Memorial Day is all about; I choked up watching it go past. The photos speak for themselves

Time for another band!

Wait – they’re not playing. Grrrr!

One of my biggest parade pet peeves is when bands go a long while without playing. This particular parade route isn’t much more than a mile so there’s no reason for a band not to play most of the way. I marched this route in an alumni band when I was five months pregnant with Jo-Bear. If I can do it at age *ahem* and five months pregnant these teenagers can do it.

Sorry, I got carried away for a moment.

At least their lines are fairly straight.

Oh, the drum major just put up one finger; they’re going to play!

My favorite section – percussion! Check out their feet – are they in a straight line? Are they marching together? Not bad… so far Xavier has looked the best.

But don’t get smug; the best band is yet to come…

Let’s peek at how the Guard looks while they’re performing; are they together? Are their angles straight? I’d say it’s not bad for Memorial Day; I’ve definitely seen much worse.

Look boys – it’s the firefighters! Your grandpa N. used to be a firefighter! He got to drive the BIG truck.

Like this one!

Like most boys Z-Man and Little Guy are thrilled by the firetruck. I’m thankful that it doesn’t have its siren wailing; that’s waaaay too loud this close up.

More little Cub Scouts. They’re just too, too cute! As much as I love girls, little boys turn my heart to mush.

The city’s newest high school: North. You can tell they’re not as old because their uniforms are more modern than the other bands’ uniforms so far.

I love how they flip their banner over before they start playing – talk about eye-catching!

This Guard looks pretty sharp; the flags are mostly together. Their routine isn’t very difficult so it’s super-simple to stay together. For this parade I think that’s OK; sometimes it’s better to do simple well than to do complicated badly. On the other hand, if it were a competitive parade I’d like to see a more complicated routine.

The band looks sharp too. I was so busy snapping photos I forgot to look for Angel Face’s friend Greg. Oh well, maybe they’ll be in the Flag Day parade. That’s a loooooong one, about two hours’ worth, so I won’t be posting photos of each unit from that parade. You can thank me later.

Didn’t we see these guys already? They all look the same; all big eyes and blue shirts. I’m such a sucker for little kids.

“Hey Jo-Bear – SMILE!”

He looks almost exactly the same in all three of his photos. He knows that when mom has the camera out it’s no good to argue, you might as well smile and get it over with.

What a handsome kid! He needs a haircut though.

Another unit to honor a fallen soldier.

I used to have a school-ager in my daycare who went to Ferber. He marched in the parade once or twice.

The Red Cross does so much good for so many people, but I’m really glad their mascot stayed home. It’s a huuuuuge costume that looks like a drop of blood. Ewwwwww.

Ah ha, here they come! The bestest marching band in the whole parade! I’m a band alum so I’m allowed to be biased.

Uh-oh girls! Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to change the routine just days before the parade!

Look, right in the center smiling at the camera – it’s Angel Face; the bestest, prettiest color guard member in the whole parade! I’m a mom so I’m allowed to be biased.

Doesn’t she look good? I am SO proud of her! It’s towards the end of the route so her face is probably numb but you can’t tell.

When I was in Guard we were “military style” which meant we weren’t allowed to smile. I think it’s easier than having to smile the whole time.

And there’s Princess, the bestest, prettiest Color Guard assistant who-used-to-be-in-Guard in the whole parade! Moms can be biased, remember?

There they both go…

And here comes the band. Check out the first row’s feet – see how they all cross the line at exactly the same time? That’s that a marching band is supposed to look like. Great job saxes – you rock!

There they go. They always seem to go by so fast. One of these years when the little boys are older Teacher and I are going to spend a summer chaperoning for summer marching band. That’s the summer I’ll think I’ve died and gone to marching band heaven. Hi, my name is Amy and I’m a marching band geek…

Time to fast-forward past another Cub Scout troop, some mamas pushing babies in strollers, and on to the next marching band!

I’m sorry, but I have to say it: I have never liked these uniforms. Seriously – white pants?

The whole patriotic thing is appropriate as they’re the “East Patriots” but I don’t get the swan wings on the girls’ heads. I should say something nice though… I like the sparkles and the girls’ flowing skirts. How’s that?

Here comes the band… I’m still not liking those white pants – pity the poor girl with hips who has to wear them! Hopefully they’re saving up for new uniforms. If it were up to me I’d go for blue and red with silver and white accents.

The boys were amazed to think that people used to drive cars like this all the time, and wanted to ride in it.

Personally I’ve always wanted to try out a rumble seat, they always look so bouncy.

I can’t imagine riding a bike like this – how does he even get onto it?! I’d surely fall off and crack my head open.

He must be the last unit because you can see parade officials following the bike.

OK guys, time to pack up and go!

Since we knew we’d be waiting for a while we stopped at Starbucks for a snack. Aren’t they just too cute?!

Teacher timed it just right; the band arrived at school just before we did. We had to wait for them to unpack their gear and change clothes but it wasn’t as long as if we’d gone straight from the parade.

Even after twenty-two years of marriage he still makes my heart go pitter-pat. I’m the luckiest woman in the world to be married to this man.

Angel Face was in one of her “don’t take my picture” moods but Amanda convinced her to smile. She didn’t have patience for me to take one with her eyes open though.

Speaking of coffee, I think I hear my coffee maker calling my name…

Peanut had spent the morning at Cowboy’s mom’s house being thoroughly spoiled. She fell asleep on the way to the church and wasn’t sure what was going on when she woke up. She was happy to sit on my lap looking around, but we couldn’t get her to smile for love or money.

After we changed her into her Flower Girl dress and did her hair Cowboy’s mom aka “Gammy” tried to get Peanut to hold her flowers, but she refused to touch the “tussy mussy” I’d made her. We decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting.

Cowboy’s mom took Peanut to the youth room where Cowboy and the groomsmen had been banished. She was happy to see her Daddy but still wouldn’t smile.

Most of the time Cowboy can get tons of giggles from her when he tickles her neck, but not today.

She won’t hold the tussy mussy for Daddy either. I wonder if that stubbornness comes from Princess or Cowboy. It certainly isn’t from her Gamma… at least not that I’ll admit to.

Back in the nursery Princess was all dressed and ready for a short photo shoot before the service started. Peanut was happy to see her mommy but can’t figure out what’s on her mommy’s head.

Peanut has that somber look you see in old tintype photos from the 1800s.

I just love this series of photos! Peanut still wouldn’t smile, but she stood very nicely instead of trying to run away.

I think she looks just like a doll. I can just imagine a little Peanut doll sitting on a doll shop shelf, waiting for some little girl to fall in love with her and take her home. The doll I mean; not the real Peanut!

I plan to play with these photos and various photo effects – I can’t wait to see them in sepia tones or black/white.

Finally it was time for the service to start. College Boy processed with the cross up the aisle, then Cowboy’s sister, Ashley, followed with Peanut. Peanut loves her aunt but wasn’t so sure about all the people staring at them as they walked down the aisle.

Peanut happily sat on my mom’s lap for the service and willingly went to Ashley when it was time for the Recessional, but she still wouldn’t smile. Maybe she was just scared of Jen’s big camera Can anyone tell what’s missing in this picture? Leave a comment if you know!

During the picture-taking chaos Peanut lifted her arms to my mom; “Up!” She loves her great-grandma, but still won’t take her eyes off the camera.

Will this child ever smile again? Has the wedding craziness and extended exposure to College Boy permanently damaged her psyche? Stay tuned for the next episode…

Hey you two! That’s no way to make the child smile!

It sure is awfully cute though.

Wait… I think I see the beginnings of something…

Finally – a smile!

PS – All photo in this post were taken by Jen of Jennifer Tabbert Photography.

Finally the Big Day arrived. Despite weeks of planning and preparing, I was nowhere ready for it. My friend, my daughter, my baby was getting married. She’d never sleep under our roof as a member of our household again; after the wedding she and Cowboy would set up their own household. And not only was Princess moving out, Peanut would be going with her!

I kept as busy as possible to avoid thinking about it.

Cowboy’s house is about five minutes away from the church so Princess, Peanut, and the bridesmaids invaded his house, filling it with girlish giggles and clouds of hair spray. Cowboy and the groomsmen were banished to his grandpa’s house. They didn’t seem to mind.

Meanwhile back at our place Irish Girl, my good friend Julie, and I finished up the bouquets. They had been arranged the previous day but kept in vases of water so they’d stay fresher. After the bouquets were done everything that needed to go to the church was packed into boxes, then it was time to get changed.

In no time we were on the way to the church. I kept going through my mental list; paranoid that I’d forgotten something essential. Service bulletins and maps to the reception? Check. Unity Candle and wreath? Check. Sandwiches and drinks? Check. Flowers? Check. Camera? Check. Backpack of quiet activities for the boys? Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. We had everything.

I hoped.

We got to the church a little after 4:30, which is when the wedding party was supposed to arrive. Of course they weren’t there yet; I don’t know of any wedding where the wedding party showed up on time. While we were waiting for them I helped Irish Girl set up the unity candle and flowers, paced nervously, reminded ushers Jo-Bear and Shorty – Cowboy’s younger brother – of their duties, paced nervously, snapped a few random photos, and paced nervously.

Did I mention that I paced nervously?

Since my stress level left me in no shape to deal with the boys Irish Girl kept Z-Man and Little Guy occupied with their sandwiches and books from their “quiet bag” while Jo-Bear amused himself by taking photos around the church with my camera. Most of the photos he took were of the artwork on the church walls – or the church walls themselves.

I chose not to post those. You can thank me later.

The church was modern and very beautiful. I loved all the natural light that bathed the altar area. Although we didn’t plan it this way, the purple Lenten paraments coordinated perfectly with Princess’s wedding colors.

The unity candle was placed in the center of the altar with one of Irish Girl’s bouquets on either side. I bought the unity candle wreath for $8 at Hobby Lobby then Irish Girl wove some purple ribbon through it. Thrifty and pretty, what more could you ask for?

Jo-Bear took a couple of pictures of things that weren’t hanging on the walls – like himself. What a ham!

Finally the girls arrived! I reclaimed my camera from Jo-Bear and went to help the girls get dressed.

Princess was a tad bit nervous – to put it mildly.

But not too nervous to give me one of her hundred-watt smiles!

I had the honor of doing Peanut’s hair while her aunt put her shoes on.

When the girls were ready and I left the dressing room, aka the church nursery, Teacher and my parents had already been seated – without the little boys! I’d forgotten to tell them that Z-Man and Little Guy would would need to be ushered in with them.

I tried to take the boys into church but Little Guy resisted. The combination of over-tiredness brought on by too many days without a nap and over-stimultion caused by all the excitement and stress around him the past few days was too much for him. He dug in his heels and refused to go anywhere without the cooler that contained his sandwich and water.

Why he had to have the cooler I’ll never know.

Deciding that this was not a battle worth fighting I grabbed the cooler in one hand and Little Guy in the other. Trying to hide the cooler against my skirt I walked Little Guy and Z-Man up the side aisle to their grandparents.

“He wouldn’t leave it!” I whispered to Teacher’s dad as I set the cooler on the floor and ushered Little Guy into the pew next to Teacher’s dad. I hustled – as sedately as possible – back down the aisle to take my place in the processional line-up.

Jo-Bear ushered me to my place in the front row where I sat for a moment before going to the altar with Cowboy’s mom to light the tapers for the unity candle. We returned to our seats as the pastor, aka Teacher’s good friend Bill, and Cowboy came out from the side to take their places by the rail.

The organ and flute were approaching the end of “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” My beloved grandmother had requested “Jesu” when I married Teacher. It had been the pre-processional piece then as it was now for my daughter’s wedding. Tears started to well in my eyes.

Suddenly Little Guy left his place by Grandpa to settle down next to me. “I want mine samich!” he declared at full volume.

“Shhhhh! Just a minute…”

“No! NOW! I want mine SAMICH!”

An experienced mom knows when to make a hasty retreat so I motioned for the cooler and handed over the “samich” in the nick of time – just as the flute and organ began “Jupiter.”

You can see the “samich” under his elbow.

The wedding party processed. Hymns were sung, the unity candle was lighted, vows and rings were exchanged, prayers were said, and then it was over.

My daughter is a married woman.

I don’t feel any different.

She doesn’t look any different.

Except for the huge smile on her face.

Cowboy, however, looks pretty much the same as always.

I think they’ll live Happily Ever After, don’t you?

PS- I didn’t take any pictures after I was ushered to my seat – I decided it would be tacky for the Mother of the Bride to be snapping away during the ceremony. I’ll post photos from the photographer when we get them.

PPS- It’s not over yet – there’s still the reception to tell you about!

When we peeked into the bridal dressing room last time all you got to see was the patterns and fabric.

Here’s the pattern and fabric again, in case you forgot:

Are you ready to see the finished dresses?

Are you sure?

Ok, here you go…

Aren’t they pretty? I think my mom did a fantastic job.

You want to see them ON the bridesmaids?

No problem!

I think the dresses are almost as pretty as the girls. My favorite thing is that each girl could pick her own bodice, hairstyle and shoes – as long as they were black sandals.

I’ve been the bridesmaid in weddings where I had to wear the same dress as the other girls, have the same hairstyle as the other girls, even one where it was suggested we have our makeup the same way. I have the psychological scars to prove it.

Here’s the back of the dresses. In a wedding the back is almost more important than the front because everyone spends more time looking at the back than the front.

Next up: Wedding Dress Photos!