There is so much for me to re-cap from this past weekend, I
get tired just thinking about it. There was the wedding and all that drama. And
then things came up with Primero and the issue of him driving his uncle’s car
without anyone consulting me. Then the drama Primero relayed about his family.
A photo shoot on Sunday followed by a rainy 4th of July picnic and
back to work! Whew! I was going to attempt to write it all out in one very long
post (in fact, I did write something) but there is so much to say I think I’m
going to break it up into several posts, starting with the wedding.
Friday I had taken off of work because my sister was having
her wedding rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner at midday. She wanted the women
of the wedding party to meet for mani-pedi’s prior to the rehearsal. Her
wedding was held on a golf course about 40 minutes south of my place and over
an hour drive from the farm. She found a place near the venue and made
appointments for all of us at 10 am. I couldn’t drop the little ones off in
their respite home until after 8:30 (the foster mom works night shift and
wouldn’t be home before then). I then I had to go to the ATM so Primero could
have some spending money to go to the movies with his uncle and he had to be to
work by 9 am. Unfortunately, with the previous tasks taking just a hair longer
than we had hoped, Primero missed the bus at work that was taking him and the
young campers to a campsite up north near the farm. I did not have the time to
take him there. I had forgotten the fancy purse I was supposed to use at the
wedding (the same one I used at my own wedding – I hope that isn’t bad luck!)
and I needed to stop at Target. So, needless to say, I was late to our
mani-pedi session. I was about 20 minutes late. My sister wanted me to do her make-up,
so that put me even further behind. Add to that some minor anxiety about getting
a prosthetic toenail glued onto my injured big toe and it was certainly not the
most enjoyable pedicure I’ve ever had. In fact, I’d have to say it was the
worst. The nail technician tried to squeeze my flipflop on over my wet
toenails, smudging the polish and forcing her to do more work. She didn’t help
any of my callouses and I had to ask her to cut a bothersome piece of dried
skin from the bottom of my foot. I had them do the gel nails on my fingers
because it lasts longer but they were in such a hurry that it has already
chipped off and made my nails look lumpy. Sigh. I didn’t want to complain in
front of my sister. Her anxiety was already soaring and she has to take a walk
with the other bridesmaid to calm herself down.
During our mani-pedi session, while I was doing her make-up,
my sister demanded I not let anyone ask her questions. She claimed this was my
job and that should anyone have any questions I should refer them to the
detailed itinerary she emailed to all of us. Was she the bride or the POTUS?
Hard to tell… Everyone left me at the nail salon and so I had to find my way to
the wedding venue. Thankfully it was close and I found it with no problem. My
dad found me at my car because I had no idea what building I was going into. He
was angry at something my sister had said to my mom. Like really angry. My dad
is usually the cool one while my mom tends to blow her lid more readily. It take
a lot for my dad to get worked up, but when he’s angry look out. I sensed that
he found me not just to escort me to the rest of the waiting wedding party, but
also to calm himself down. We chatted while I changed my shoes and walked
inside.
Friday was HOT, like July HOT. I felt my make-up dripping
off my face as we walked out to the 18th hole to practice the processional,
recessional, and readings for the ceremony. My feet were slimy from the lotion,
sliding around in my shoes and rubbing with every step. We talked about
logistics, the golf carts, the music, and where the parents were supposed to
sit. My dress was damp from all the sweat as we marched back to the club house
for our luncheon. My sister and her fiancé paused to hash out some intricate
detail about the groomsmen and the golf carts. In trying to help the golf
course staff better understand the question/request I asked a question and if
my sister had the power I’m sure she would have ordered my head off that very
moment. Sigh. I kept my mouth shut and didn’t attempt to help. I walked away to
join the more savvy wedding party members already sitting in the cool luncheon
room. The day was only half over and I was already done.
The luncheon was nice, the food was good. I talked mostly to
my parents and a little to the wedding officiant, my sister’s friend from DC. I
talked my sister into checking in at the hotel so I could store my make-up in an
environment cooler than my hot van. We then left with the groom’s younger
brother to visit my grandparents at the farm. It was a long trek from where we
were staying, but my grandparents really appreciated the effort. They weren’t
going to be able to make it to the wedding because my grandfather’s health was
too fragile. We took a few pictures and piled back into the car for our return
trip. We stopped at the groom’s parents place, which is much closer to the
venue, and I ended up driving with the other bridesmaid back to the hotel.
I was pleasantly surprised at myself for being as social
with her as I was. She rubbed me the wrong way during the whole bridal shower fiasco
and I worried about spending so much time in her presence. It was one of the reasons
I didn’t want to go to the bachelorette party a few weekends ago (As it turns
out, I’m glad I didn’t go because it seems like they did A LOT of drinking and
I would have gotten bored with that very quickly because I don’t drink much and
I’m very disinclined to getting a hangover – I would have been a killjoy trying
to find my own fun in the Airbnb alone). Anyway, on our short drive to the
hotel we chatted and it was fine. Once the ceremony was over she didn’t speak to
me again, but it is what it is. By the time we all congregated at the hotel it
was nearly 8 pm. We drove back to the golf course for dinner and drinks and
chatted until well after 11. I was beat and so anxious to get to bed. I was sharing
the king size bed with my sister while the other bridesmaid and a friend from
DC were sharing the pull out couch bed. My sister was angry with me for snoring
and not only rudely woke me up, but then told me off in front of her friends
the next morning. How much belittling can one person take?
Saturday morning started out fine but things quickly slide
sideways after breakfast. I don’t know how to describe her anxiety temper tantrums
but they are energy sucking. And she went into full blow-up mode after
breakfast because one, I didn’t have a room key and I didn’t find her to get
one of the two she had (she had gone outside for some reason) and two, she didn’t
want my mom coming to the hotel too early. “I really just don’t want her here!”
she yelled at me. I was tasked with calling our mother and telling her to not
come to the hotel. Luckily, I got my father. I felt like shit asking them to
turn back around. They had been stopped by a state cop in the small, rural town
closest to the farm and so not having a good morning themselves. I had to leave
the room to call them because I was about to give the bride a black eye. The way
she was talking about our mother in front of her friends had me seeing red. She
has them all believing our mother is some evil monster. Oh if only they knew
both sides like I do!
I called my parents and suggested they stop at the outlets
rather than coming straight to the hotel and then I sat to have my hair done.
The hairdresser was someone my sister and I were super close to when we were
teenagers. Like, we spent every possible minute with her and her sister. It was
both awkward and nice having her there. She pinned my hair in curls and I set
off to do my make-up. Only I was intercepted by my sister who now worried my parents
would be late getting to the venue and asked me to check on their ETA. Unfortunately,
as I was having my hair braided into a sweeping side ponytail that looked
nothing like the inspiration photo on Pinterest, I found a video while
scrolling through Facebook. It was a video taken by Primero’s uncle of him
driving. Are you serious?! No one thought to consult me before letting Primero
drive?! Three adults thought it was ok to let him drive and video tape him
doing it? I was angry. I called Primero. It got ugly fast. When I explained to
him it was not ok for him to be driving without my permission, he got belligerent.
When I explained that I was his parent (I don’t think I’ve ever called myself
his mother as I know he would take exception to that), he interjected, “ADOPTIVE
parent.” “That doesn’t matter!” I exclaimed. “It does to me,” he snarled. And
the conversation digressed into meaningless irritation. I sent his uncle a text
following our conversation stating due to Primero’s poor attitude he would need
to come that night, I would pick him up after the wedding. And I expressed by
displeasure at not being consulted before he was allowed to drive. His uncle
responded with “NP…. Ok, will do…”
So, when I called my dad to find out if they were on their
way or if they were chilling at the outlets, I was one hot mess. All I wanted
to do was go home and handle things right then and there. Sounding pathetic, I
cried, “I just want to go home, I don’t want to be here!” How could I have left
for a wedding when clearly I needed to be home to deal with things. I forced
myself back into the hotel room to announce my parents were on their way. They
had stopped in with my aunt who lives near me, so they were only 30 minutes
away. I cleaned off my make-up strewn face, reapplied my make-up and got my
hair finished. I hated my chosen hair style, it felt flat and didn’t have the
feeling of romantic ease I felt looking at the picture. The hairdresser heard
me complaining and so I zipped my lips and forgot about it. But, I hate seeing
the pictures, sadly. My dress didn’t really fit me as I would have liked
either. Somehow, when they decided to make the arm holes a bit bigger, they let
the waist band out and I felt like I had to keep sticking my boobs in place the
whole night. I hated the dress too. I would have loved the dress had it fit me
right. Sigh.
The ceremony was blessedly brief. Their self-written vows
were sweet and funny. Fortunately the weather also cooperated, other than a persnickety
breeze, and the day was cooler than expected. I cried twice – once when I saw
my brother, the proverbial (and self-inflicted) black sheep had actually made
it to the wedding, and the second time was when my sister was walking down the
aisle on my father’s arm. I sobbed in the receiving line when my brother came
through because I really, truly didn’t think he would make it. He ended up
staying the whole night and I even got him to slow dance with me. I cannot
express just how epic that was (see this for an idea).
The pictures took four times longer than the ceremony itself and by then I was
starving. I hadn’t eaten since the hotel breakfast and after doing make-up
right up until the last moment, I also had not sat down all day. The reception
started with the couple slow dance after introductions and then right into the
best man speech and the matron of honor speech. I had emailed my mom something
to print for me but it printed out in near microscopic letters. I was ok in the
beginning but then got lost and rambled a bit for concluding when myself, my
sister, my mom, aunt and most of my sisters friends were in tears. I then had
to read the invocation. And I was finally able to sit down! The reception was
dull for quite some time. My cousin, mom, aunt and I tried to liven it up with
some dancing but none of the other guests were interested until the last 30
minutes. Then the bride, her friends, and some of the grooms family came to the
dance floor.
I thought I did a pretty good job of being present during
the ceremony and part of the reception, but during a quiet moment I grabbed my
phone and had a text conversation with Primero. He was lobbying hard to spend
another night at his aunt and uncles place. I was telling him he needed to come
home. I was on the fence about it, mostly because I was exhausted and just
wanted to get to bed, but there was some little niggling inside of me that said
he needed to come home. The reception ended with sparklers and then I had to
pack all of the make-up into the van and drive home with the window down to
keep me awake. I drove home first to unload the car and since that feeling hadn’t
gone away, I drove the short distance to pick Primero up. I ended up being glad
I did, but more on that to come.