Tags: wedding


SCI Week 2, High Wire

It is my firm belief that this wedding will be the end of me.

This is supposed to be the most joyous, exciting, peaceful time of my life. Family should be coming together from both sides to join hands and sing happy choruses as they sign the checks. Presents should be flooding my doorstep, full to bursting with the household goods in my Macy's filled dreams. Rainbows and unicorns are supposed to prance ahead of me, making the way pleasant to my glorious day.

Lies! Hollywood has lied to me and I'd like my money back!

I know what you're thinking.

It's your mother, isn't it?


My mom is actually being extremely helpful yet unintrusive. She is busting her butt to make sure Corbb and I have a beautiful day that is reflective of our love for one another, surrounded by our friends and family who love us. I can't say enough good things about her. I know this makes me blessed.

What about the bridesmaids?

Aside from a few grumbles over the price of the bridesmaids dress I picked (it is $250) they have been blessed dreams. They will love me and the dress when they need a formal to wear again and I didn't make them pay for a taffeta monstrosity. I'm looking forward to our weekend of epic fun filled with martinis and lingerie.

What's left to cause me so much anxiety and inner angst?

The future in-laws?

Ding ding ding! You got it, Charlie, ten points for you!

There are not enough words in the English language I can use to express what it is like to be their future "daughter-in-law". "Daughter" is a word I can't even comprehend when thinking of my relationship with them. All they seem to get joy out of doing is saying over and over again how we shouldn't be getting married. You think they'd be over this by now, but no. They complain that this wedding seems to be all about "her" family (they never make an effort to talk to me about anything, after all). Yet, when we go to them to ask for help (like they have encouraged us to do) they say no. All they want to do is pay for the rehearsal dinner and Corbb's tux. I could understand this if they were poor…but the reality is, they are not. It has taken all of the self control I have to not say to Rita (the future monster-in-law) "Why don't you sell that little Corvette you only drive for three months out of the year, if you drive it at all. Or, how about you cut your trips to exotic global destinations short by a few days this year. That would free up some money to help your son who has worked so hard to support himself, who paid for half of his plane tickets home to see you all through college. That would go a long way to helping your daughter-in-law who has had to put back together broken self-esteem and emotions that you created with your selfishness and cold heart."

But, logically, I can't say any of these things. They are still Corbb's family and the grandparents of our future children. We don't have to be best friends with them, but I'd like to maintain some semblance of a relationship with them if at all possible. Conversations with them are just walking a high wire in-between what should be and what is. I know I should be happy that Corbb and my mom are so close I should feel grateful that my dad is stepping up to the plate lately and trying really hard to have a supportive relationship with us. I should rejoice that the money is working itself out, in spite of the obstacles.

And I am.

And I look forward to the weekend of August 11th when I will be Mrs. O'Connor, and THAT much closer to my husband being comfortable with the idea of babies.
In the mean time, if you all see reports of a raving mad woman named Rita turning up in Siberia…

It wasn't me.