Are we all sick of discussing the wedding yet?
I told one of my friends that I have done many exhausting things--given birth to three children, hosted very large Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, organized/planned/spearheaded many events . . . for heaven's sake, I once threw a prom--but this? This wedding? It was my daughter's project, she planned and executed the lion's share of it and, though I loved it, I can still say it was the hardest, most draining experience of my life!
I was on my cell so much that the battery ran dead--twice. I heard my daughter's phone ring so often that her ring tone is forever imprinted on my brain.
Near the end of the evening the photographer was trying to get one last, huge family photo but Gabe's tux jacket was all bunched up around his shoulders and face. I tried to unbutton the jacket but he did not want it unbuttoned, thankyouverymuchgrammy. The fact that he didn't want me to adjust his clothing did not deter me. A few seconds later I realized that I was wrestling a 4-year-old while his real grandma looked on. I'm sure she was impressed by my natural gift with children . . .
That was the moment that I realized I had officially lost my sh*t.
Returning to the ballroom, the first person I saw was my husband's best friend. I wasted no time enlisting his help.
"Peter," I pleaded, "will you go to the lounge and get me whatever the best man is drinking?" He must have seen the crazy in my eyes because he did not question, he just did as he was bid. Five minutes later I was sipping a tall, strong glass of calm-the-f%&k-down.
And then we danced. And it was wildly fun. And I was somewhat sane again : )