My Sister's Nuptials

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 4^th 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 18^th 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.