"Just the Beginning"...

Was the inscription I had engraved on Ian's engagement ring That poor guy, I still wonder if he barely knows what he's in for. But he does impress and surprise me often. I think he is much stronger than I can imagine.

In September of '04 I asked Ian what he wanted for his birthday (its 2 days before mine) and he said 'an engagement ring.' He now claims that it was a joke, but as I'm sure most women in their early thirties will agree with me: you don't say the word "engagement ring" in jest. And so I was sent into a tailspin of anxiety, giddiness and trepidation... trying to decide. Do I buy him a ring? Do I propose? Long story short: I did, and totally burst his bubble. As I mentioned, my birthday was two days later , and he had planned to do the same thing. Great minds...

So here we are, just a few days under the 1 year mark and getting more serious about "plans". We reserved a site far in advance because there is so much hype about how you absolutely have to do this at least a year in advance or you risk being stuck at the Disabled Veteran's bingo parlor for your reception.... It is conveniently 3 blocks from our house, so that really cuts down on cab fare, but who knows how many rolls of streamers we'd need to dress that place up!

I guess the real point I'm trying to make, is that we're finally getting into the planning stage. And I want to puke daily . My parents are in town, which literally is a once or twice a year thing. So we've been trying on dresses and tasting cake (see entry 8/5/05) http://capncanuck.blogspot.com/

And everyday the horrifying reality sinks in deeper: this wedding is about making my mother happy. Screw Ian and I and what we want. Its a matter of time until I freak out and tell her "go ahead and plan what you want, just tell me when to show up to your, I mean, my wedding." This lady holds the purse strings and she only shells out for what she likes. I'm seriously on the verge happily forfeiting the deposit on the reception site and running away to Vegas. Ian tells me we can pull it together and play her game, and all will be fine. I don't know if its my 31 year history with her that has exhausted my sense of "suck it up and smile" in this situation or if I just don't care that much about having a really fancy, expensive party. Part of me feels that having "the day" to focus on us and let a bunch of people tell us how great we are will be memorable, meaningful and make me cry about 8 times. IF it could be the day that Ian and I want.

Note to self: give mom much white zin shortly after the ceremony to keep her out of my way at the reception. If she says one thing about the music or anything else that isn't 100% her taste, I will encourage Ian's dad to start twirling about in his kilt.... you know how true Scots wear their kilts. Maybe that would shut her up.

Really, do all brides go through this? Did they come up with the concept of a "wedding", figuring that if you could endure that, the marriage would be a cake walk? (no puns intended.)