It’s not that I really wanted to set my alarm for 5:45am on Mother’s Day. Hell, I don’t want to set it for that hour on any day, much less the day I am supposedly allowed to stay in bed and be lavished with attention (which has yet to happen in my 5 Mother’s Days to date).
But hey, if it means seeing my sister-in-law get married, I’ll do it.
Alright, so the hour was a little ridiculous – I had never before heard of a wedding at 8:00 on a Sunday morning. But the weather was lovely, the location was beautiful, and the event could not be beat.
In part to give them something to do during the ceremony (it’s not like we even had chairs to sit in – there were very literally 10 guests, three of whom were my children), the big kids had jobs to do. Rebecca held onto the bride’s bouquet, a practice run for her job as a “helping girl” (flower girl) at my stepsister’s wedding this summer.
And I was so sad when someone corrected Daniel’s pronunciation – I loved that he called himself the “ring barrier” (burier?) instead of ring bearer. I had visions of him running off and hiding the rings behind some kind of obstacle course. But indeed, both kids completed their jobs honorably.
Me? I was the unofficial wedding photographer. I think I did an acceptable job.
It may have been early, but it was a lovely way to spend a morning. And no matter what, I got to hang out with these knuckleheads. Thanks, my goofy ones, for making me your mom.