I'm getting sick of those words. My MOH said it best: "You're mom talks to you like you're ten and mentally incapacitated."
Chris and I had a really cute idea for a guest book... setting up a twine clothesline, and having people hang their names and a bit of advice from it on really fun paper. We thought we could set everything up on an ironing board; the pens would sit in the ridges of an old washboard, and the papers could go in miniature washtubs. The whole idea came about because I saw a big old iron washtub at an antique store that I want to use for sodas.
Keep in mind, our reception is country themed, something I think my mother is trying to erase from her mind. "No, dear!" she said, sighing. "That's a good idea for a party, but you want your reception to be a little more formal."
Yes, Mommy Dearest. Thank you for telling me what I want.
From now on, I'm not telling her ANYTHING. When she shows up at the reception, it will be cute, it will be funky, it might be a Texas two-step away from a hoedown, but it will NOT be formal.
Chris and I are paying for everything but the cake, which my father has offered to pay for. My mother, however, has stepped in and told the baker what I want. I'm two seconds away from telling her to forget about it and making 150 Death by Chocolate cupcakes with my MIL.
Now I finally understand why my sister told her she couldn't have anything to do with her wedding. I totally freaking get it now. Growl.
December 18, 2010!!! Never thought I would be a winter bride; just hoping we don't get snowed in until AFTER the wedding!