Wedding planning moves into overdrive
I got eight sheets of drywall for Valentine's Day and I'm thrilled - seriously.
Nothing says "I love you" in these tight economic times like some much-needed building materials to finish a basement project that absolutely must get done by July. That's when the hordes of relatives descend for our daughter's wedding.
If I seem to have that glazed, crazed look these days, it's because every waking moment is now devoted to the tasks assigned to the mother of the bride, namely, make sure a spectacular, memorable ceremony and reception can be produced on a recession budget.
The invitations have taken on a life of their own. We've spent months assembling the paper and parts that are now being crafted into designer, one-of-a-kind keepsakes. This is what comes of having a daughter who's into scrapbooking. Paper corners have to be put through a special punch to make them look like lace edges, then through another punch to emboss them.
Entire weekends have been consumed by tracking down the right kinds of paper and sealing wax. When we couldn't find a wax stamp bearing two doves in local craft shops, we searched the Internet and special-ordered one. But I will say this: After assembling the first batch last week, these invitations are spectacular.
The wedding dress has, of course, come with its own set of challenges. I had vowed I wouldn't get emotional when we went dress shopping, but when they brought her out in that first gown, I got a little teary. My baby's getting married, and it didn't hit home until that moment.
Little did we know that the alterations to the gown would cost almost as much as the dress itself. The company shipped the dress weeks ago, and we didn't open it up until last weekend. What we found were a couple of small stains on the dress and one alteration that wasn't made. That, of course, sent my daughter into a mini-meltdown. So we're currently searching for someone to make the dress fit and decide the best way to clean it.
Since this is Montana and the Last Best Place, of course my daughter and her fiance want an outdoor ceremony. A church wedding, with chairs and amenities already in place, would be way too easy. Instead, they've picked a remote spot in a wildflower-filled hay field near Glacier Park, where the groom has fond memories of putting up hay with his family as a boy.
It's a gorgeous spot, with the grandeur of Glacier as a backdrop. The logistics are tricky, though. We may have to haul the grandparents and other elderly folks by wagon and tractor, but we'll get it figured out.
The prospective bride and groom also are convinced it won't rain in July in the Flathead. They say we don't need to spend hundreds of dollars and reserve a tent. We (the frazzled parents' think otherwise. If there's one thing you can say about weather in the Flathead, it's never say never. So we're working out the details on this one, too.
When I got married in Minnesota in June some 27 years ago, it was within the confines of a perfectly lovely Lutheran country church. In fact, I don't remember anyone having an outdoor wedding there, probably because if the wind didn't get you, the mosquitoes would. We didn't need caterers in Minnesota - that's what Lutheran church ladies are for.
The next scary task at hand is finding the mother-of-bride dress. After looking through the racks at various bridal shops and online, this could be difficult. I'm not the glitzy prom-dress type; backless, strapless dresses aren't my style. I've commiserated with other mothers of the bride about how to find the right dress, and they're terrified, too.
It's difficult to see the big picture of a wedding when you're neck-deep in details. I'm sure it will be beautiful, and perfect, and memorable, but probably not without a lot of sleepless nights on my part.
Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by e-mail at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com