reclaiming wife

Sass

This one is for those of you deep in wedding planning land. In fact, if you’re more than a few months out from your wedding, just go ahead and bookmark this one. That way, when the day arrives (I hope for you that it won’t, but…it might) where you have pondered punching four people in the face over some insensitive and unhelpful crap they just said about your wedding, you’ll have this to read. (Note to friends and family: “How are you feeling?” and “How can I help?” are where you should start.) But since punching people in the face is impolite, Mackenzie’s letter is a constructive way to make yourself feel better. You’re welcome.

Meg

I wrote this letter out of frustration, two weeks before my wedding, as the “helpful comments” and “hilarious sarcastic jokes” about my wedding choices were flying fast and furious. Examples of this kind of charming commentary included: “I think you shouldn’t get married until you are at least thirty” (he says to the twenty-seven-year-old bride); “Next time you should plan your wedding in Hawaii, because [small Canadian town] in March is hardly a worthwhile destination”; and, the best, “Don’t get married. Just get a dog instead.” Delightful!

Dear [Complainer],

Thank you for your input. Unfortunately, since it is the day/week before/of the wedding, I am unable to change the thing that is causing you some amount of discomfort/inconvenience. Before you move forward with further commentary about how you would have planned things differently for our wedding, I would like to ask you a favour. As my loved one, your words are very meaningful to me. So I’d like to ask you to take a moment and think about how you would like to be remembered on my wedding day. You see, this wedding day is a big deal for me. And, as someone who loves me, I hope that it would be important to you as well, though naturally not as much as it is to me. Because my wedding day is important to me, and you are important to me, I will likely hold the words you say to me about and on this wedding day very close to my heart. This day will be very emotional for me, and I will therefore be hypersensitive to negative comments, perceiving them to be criticism of myself and my choices. You might have been thinking that you could be more free to share your opinions since we are family/friends—while this might normally be true, I am a people pleaser trying to plan a fun set of events for 115 people, who are the people that my partner and I love best in the world. I do not take well to unhelpful negative opinions (even “jokes”) about things that I cannot change (such as the location, time of year, guest list, decoration choices, food choices). So I’m asking you to take some time to think about what sorts of things you want me to remember about you, about how you acted and what you said to me and those that I love. If you don’t really care—or don’t mind if what I remember is that you spent your time sharing opinions which I found to be hurtful, with lack of thought for my feelings—then keep on keeping on. If you were hoping to be remembered as being a supportive, loving person who rose above the inconvenience of travel and circumstance to celebrate with me, you might want to reconsider your current conversational style and get a tighter filter on the running commentary. Continue reading Dear Friendly Advice-giver…

Because, I mean.  Not every talk about fertility needs to be a serious vortex of doom, exactly. Right? So here is Sarah, bringing it.

—Meg

Oh, conception! You’ve finally decided to kick the pill to the curb and now, all that stands between you and an adorable, cooing infant is relaxed, plentiful sex, nine months of eating ice cream and voila: BABY! (That’s exactly how it works, right?) So when the “trying” isn’t “working,” what’s a girl to do?

Some lessons learned during nine months of the-trying-isn’t-working:

1. Just relax!
(This is obviously a joke. This is something your doctor, who is literally nine months pregnant, and probably conceived all of her seven children naturally after her husband just looked at her, tells you as you sit in her office, fingernails bitten down to the elbows. This is something your friend tells you, the one who “ohmygod, got pregnant after one month of trying, isntthatcrazy?!” This is something your mother tells you, but then asks you on the regular whether or not you are yet pregnant. But seriously, whataboutnow? But you cannot relax. Because you had a plan for this whole pregnancy thing. You had a plan for actually having this baby in time for a summer marathon/learning how to knit a cute and possibly ironic fall sweater/trekking across Bhutan. Because you were totally going to do those things. With a ten-month-old. On your back. But now, you cannot. Because now, your sole focus is planning the days on which you and your husband will both be home at exactly the same, very romantic, time.)

2. Which brings us to number two. Have a lot of transactional sex because you are using the cycle beads and the stupid cycle beads say YOU MUST HAVE SEX EVERY DAY FOR TWELVE DAYS STARTING NOW, we don’t care if you’re tired and just ate a lot of cookies fun! Continue reading Baby Making: Sassy Advice for When the “Trying” Gets Tough

I got this excellent email from the now happily married Jessica two weeks ago. I couldn’t let such a good thank you note to all of you, about what we crack on about every day, lie unpublished. So, All The Things, consider yourself on notice:

My wedding is a week from today. I was running around today feeling consumed by WIC-promoted Consumerism… thinking, Oh My God, I need to buy a new dress for my rehearsal dinner and new shoes and we should buy everyone in the wedding party more stuff to thank them and what about a cute hanger, don’t I need a cute hanger for my dress?! And, and, and….

Anyway, all of a sudden I had a moment of clarity. I turned to my fiancé, who was looking (rightfully) frightened, god bless him, and said, “We don’t need All The Things.” We already have All The Things that matter.

We hugged and went home. We’re about to enjoy a nice bottle of wine.

All in all, my fiancé, our bank account, and I thank you, Team Practical.

P.S. When I emailed Jessica to ask if her wedding survived no cute hanger, she said, “It sure did.  As did the filthy dress (thanks to amazing second line through NOLA’s French quarter). It’s funny how the joy is the only detail that matters…” Wedding Graduate post coming soon.

Photo from the APW Flickr stream by Emily Takes Photos

On Wedding Friendors

This morning, Carrie talked about Friendors, and discovering that her friends were, in fact, capable of awesomeness, even if they were not indie graphic designer composer wedding dress designers. So I had to share this bit of amazingness from reader Jamie, that I found when going through wedding budgets you guys sent in:

I went to a bridal fair and shmarmy wedding planner guy asked “Can you REALLY trust your friends?”

And I said, “Uh, yes, that’s why they’re my friends.”

Fin.

... Or why you should ask your fiance's opinion on wedding decisions.

I just remembered a slightly intoxicated conversation I had with David and our friend Rachel about indie wedding trends. I feel like I should say up front... I was tipsy, David was not. David said this is the most exact transcription of a conversation I've ever posted. It really was this ridiculous.

Me: You know... indie wedding trends. They get as trendy as regular wedding trends.
Rachel: Indie wedding trends?
Me: Yeah. Like Mason Jars and Bunting.
David: Bunting?
Me: Ok. Um. How do I describe this? You know those little plastic triangle flags on a string they hang at used car lots?
Rachel: That's bunting? Continue reading On Not Taking Wedding Trends Too Seriously (Even Indie Ones)

On A Lighter Note…

Um, you need to go read the rest of this…

Lady in bridal shop: What kind of dress do you think you’d like?
Me: Not long or white, not strapless or halter… bright color, knee-length full skirt, no veil?
Lady in bridal shop: Yeah, we don’t have anything like that. Why don’t you let me bring you some things I think you might like?
Me: Sure, you’ve known me for 30 seconds now, that seems foolproof.

…Right now. Seriously. Go.

From Que Sera Sera, the site you are about to go visit.