the wedding

Before I get started, grandpa is now in recovery. Was awake for about 30 seconds - long enough to laugh at everyone's worried faces and tell them to stop freaking out, he's fine. I can totally picture him laughing saying this before passing out again to sleep off the anesthesia. We haven't heard from the surgeon yet but things seem good. Thanks for the well wishes and prayers. It meant a lot.

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I woke up Saturday morning with two thoughts in my head... The most immediate was "OWWW!" Andrew somehow made it into bed with us in the middle of the night (hubby has got to stop doing that) and woke me up by jumping on my stomach.

This thought was followed quickly by the realization that I had a wedding in less than 12 hours and still had nothing to wear.

Okay, so I had been putting off this moment. I had mixed feelings about the wedding. Yes, he's an old family friend. There's no way I wouldn't be there for him and his family. But he's also an old boyfriend and the really vain part of me wants to look damn good whenever I'm seeing an ex... I still don't have my pre-baby body back and when you're not loving your bod, do you really want to go out and buy new clothes for it? I certainly don't.

I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on sweats and headed out for my weekly Saturday morning torture. I'm working out with a new trainer. She kicked my ass last week. I was sore for like 4 days afterwards. (If you know me at all at this point, you know that this isn't really a complaint and that I loved every second of it.) True to form, she kicked my ass again.

Met hubby and munchkin for breakfast. Andrew ate everything in sight for an hour. This kid is a bottomless pit. Good thing he seems to have hubby's metabolism and looks like a string bean rather than a beach ball with legs.

I admitted defeat at the end of breakfast and made my way to the mall. (I still hate the mall, by the way.) I know. This was a stupid plan. I just worked out and ate breakfast before going shopping for a dress that I want to appear super skinny and totally hot in.

I walk into a store and quickly survey the place. This is how I shop: I look around and if nothing catches my eye, I'm out of there. I have no patience for browsing. Even less tolerance for trying stuff on. And, despite the fact that I worked retail for a horrific 3 days, sales people drive me crazy.

Still, the store was running a major sale and maybe I'd get lucky if I spent more than 30 seconds looking. The clerk approaches me, for the second time. I turn to her, trying to look sheepish as I roll my eyes. This time, she will help me. "I need something to wear to a black tie wedding. Tonight." Her jaw drops before she composes herself and rapidly begins to gather a slew of dresses, shoes and accessories for me to try on.

You know the real problem with speed shopping? You end up spending WAY too much money. I found a dress - the first one I tried on actually. Why I bothered slithering into the other 7 is beyond me. I found it. I liked it. It fit. SOLD! (Naturally, in a store full of things 30-70% off, I manage to find the one dress and pair of shoes that are full price)

Hubby forgot it was black tie. Oops. He would have blended quite well but for the blue shirt he decided to wear under the suit. It was his fault though. He neglected to obey the other cardinal rule of north Jersey weddings (Rule #1 - the gift always comes in envelope form, no boxes. Rule #2 - standard uniform if you're not wearing a tux: black suit, white dress shirt, blue tie).

We left Andrew with a babysitter for the first time. Apparently 20 minutes after we left, he realized we weren't coming right back. He ran to the door, threw both hands up against it and started wailing. Poor munchkin.

Actually, really poor munchkin. He was getting ready for bed and had started to drink his bottle when it slipped from his hands onto the floor. His best doggy friend Rosie was right there to catch it in her open jaws. The dog ate his freaking bottle! We got a phone call from the sitter, which threw all of us into a panic, until we heard this story and, through fits of hysterical laughter, talked her through where to find the bottle stash. (This could only happen with our kid, right?)

I struggled through the ceremony. I'm sorry but the pastor sounded EXACTLY like the priest from The Princess Bride. I kept leaning over to my family whispering, "Mawridge...That bwessed event that bwings us together today." Once I did it the first time, it was hard to stop going. I think I ran through the entire scene...twice...before the vows. It was a long ceremony.

They stole the band from our wedding - they were awesome, if I do say so myself! And maybe having the groom know me well wasn't such a bad thing afterall. He wouldn't let me leave until I assured him - twice - that I had fully partaken in the chocolate fountain. I impressed the table with my stellar knowledge of New Zealand wines. (Come on now... Don't you think after 3 years, I would have learned a bit about my client's business?) Then again, these guys were impressed by the fact that I knew which water glass was mine. Not really a tough crowd.

We cracked up at the old people on the dance floor. What isn't funny about watching an 80 year old woman bopping to I'm Bringing Sexy Back? Or the old man who seemingly has difficulty walking hopping up and down to Jump Around?

After awhile, we stopped worrying about how the baby was doing. We were finally out on our own, just Jaime and Brian. But by midnight, even the strongest espresso wasn't keeping us awake and we headed back to the house... Mr. Andrew decided to greet us at 3:45. He seemed genuinely surprised to find us there. He was so thrilled with this, that he wanted to babble exictedly to us for the next two hours.

Tell me that this kid is going to learn to sleep through the night... Soon, hopefully! I'm becoming a zombie.