When Anthony proposed, it was totally and 100% the surreal, oh my gosh, tear-jerking moment that I thought it would be the day I met him and decided he was the one. The evening was perfect. He snuck home a few days early from Wisconsin for Thanksgiving, surprised me before dinner at his parents’ house, and then, when I thought that was the big surprise for the night, he threw another curveball and popped the question. The ring was perfect. I had casually mentioned my favorite style of engagement ring one day way back before we were even officially dating, and my man-hand ring size, and not only did he remember the exact style and size, he picked out the most gorgeous ring that I still find myself staring at all these months later. It was just a great night that I find myself thinking back to on an almost weekly basis. When my mind wanders, that’s often where it goes. 🙂
But anywho, minutes after updating our relationship status on Facebook, the “have you picked a date?!” question started rolling in. Oh yeah. That.
I’m not a planner. I’m an avoider-until-crunch-time. Unfortunately with weddings and most other important life things, that’s not really proper etiquette, because you run the risk of your wedding being a giant disaster, and people talking about it behind your back for years. Which, if people are going to talk about me behind my back, it will be for a much better reason than, her wedding sucked. Haha.
Two months into our engagement, we moved out here. It was a colossal adjustment for a lot of reasons..
a. I had never lived a life where the majority of it wasn’t sponsored by ma & pa.
b. I had never moved to another area
c. I had never even moved before.
d. I had never lived with anoyone.
To name a few. So unfortunately, planning my wedding was not only a source of anxiety, but also major frustration. My poor me adjustment phase lasted a couple months, and I was the most negative of all the Nancy’s when it came to that subject. So it was really easy for me to push it to the bottom of my to-do list and leave it there. The only wedding-related tasks I cared about were centered around my bridesmaids. Picking the dresses, figuring out gift ideas, etc. Everything else just felt like an obligation. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to and want to get married. But the perpetual child in me wanted it to just happen, all the work to be done by someone else.
Eventually though, my mom and Anthony’s mom did the typical mom thing where they were like, well, you have to, basically one step down from the because I said so. But, that giant duh from the collective mothership was enough to get me to at least make a few phone calls, send a few e-mails, and pick a venue. Baby steps. Thanks moms.
Flash forward a few more months of me dragging my feet, and I am still wishing the planning was over. From trimming the guest list 40,000 times, to figuring out which avenue of said trimming would offend the least amount of people, to realizing that I don’t actually care about what is wedding etiquette and what isn’t, to deciding that eloping to Vegas would be the smart thing to do (plus, casinos), here I sit, three months out (what??) designing our invitations and trying not to poop my pants at the idea of dropping so much money on something that most people will most likely throw away. Somehow it’s so much easier with Christmas cards.
But in reality, all the anxiety aside, and if I ignore the pressure of inviting some family, but not all, some friends, but not every single one of them, who is sitting where, are you registering, etc, I know it will be a fun, exciting day that will be worth all the stress-eating in the months leading up to it. 🙂
Anyone else knee-deep in wedding planning? Or have been? Tell me I’ll make it to the other side! Haha.