MoG Report - Part IV: The Wedding by Leah St. James

My son and his bride were married two weeks ago on a sun-bright day, surrounded by family and friends and lots of love. And it was perfect.

Were there little glitches? Of course.
Did they matter? Not in the least. 

Rather than go into a lengthy narrative, I'll share bits and pieces and (of course!) some photos.

The Dress
(Mine, I mean.) :-)

 I chose the Adrianna Papell gown in navy with the deep v-neck and "mermaid" flare. It was comfortable to move in and made me feel good. (On a side note, shame on the woman in the hotel lobby who exclaimed, loudly, as I walked by that it was tacky to wear a long gown to an afternoon wedding. The wedding was late afternoon, the reception was evening...and I was the MoG! Shame on her!)

My sister made me a beautiful sapphire blue necklace and I found dangly earrings to match! 

The Ceremony
It was a lovely, traditional ceremony. My son got choked up reciting his vows, and when his bride reached up to tenderly caress his cheek, tears began to flow--mine, my sister's, probably half the women in the church and even the pastor's! (He couldn't talk for a minute after that!) It was moving and loving. It was perfect.

The Mother-Son Dance

You might recall what a tough decision this was for me, how worried I was I'd start bawling like an idiot. After weeks of searching, we went with Sweet Child O' Mine performed by Sheryl Crow. I know, some of you are probably thinking, What the...huh?? But it has an upbeat rhythm despite its somewhat sentimental message. And I love this version which is sung from the woman's (mother's) perspective.

"He's got eyes of the bluest skies
"As if they thought of rain
"I'd hate to look into those eyes
"And see an ounce of pain..."

(Written by Duff Rose Mc Kagan, Steven Adler, W. Axl Rose, Izzy Stradlin)

We cut it off after about two minutes, which was a good thing because I'm sure our simple box-stepping was a giant yawn to the guests. (Hopefully they enjoyed the music while we danced!) I did NOT cry, but I did indulge myself in a log bear-hug before letting my son return to his bride.

The Party
I danced all night with my hubby (slow dances) and friends (fast dances), so many thanks to whoever it was (Diane?) who suggested bringing a second pair of comfortable shoes. That was a lifesaver! Still, when the party broke up, I hobbled back to the hotel on achy feet, and when I crawled into bed later, every muscle from my waist down throbbed.  Maybe a person of a certain age isn't meant to jump up and down like a pogo stick for a couple hours straight? Lying there in pain, I had to content myself with the hope all the excess expenditure of calories made up for the excess consumption of food! 

Apologies for the fuzziness for a few of these!

The After-Party
The happy couple honeymooned in Cape May (NJ) and hubby, Son No. 1 and I retreated to Virginia with my best friend from childhood (who had flown in from Iowa). A few days later, my friend and I treated ourselves to a mini ladies' vacation at an oceanfront hotel in Virginia Beach. More perfection. (How lucky am I?)

As I post this message, my son and his bride are celebrating their two-week anniversary. I hope they are recalling the day with the same joy and love that I am. And I know they'll be making fresh, new and wonderful memories in the years to come. Sigh...

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Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil, and the power of love. She blogs here the 6th and 22nd of each month, and hangs out on Facebook and Twitter and occasionally Pinterest. She loves meeting and chatting with readers, so please stop by. Learn more about her writing at http://www.leahstjames.com.

Wedding Tales Part II - The Dress ~ By Leah St. James

You might remember I blogged a couple months back about my younger son’s upcoming wedding, my anxieties about the mother-son dance, etc. Well, I’ve moved on to new anxieties--THE MOG (mother of the groom) DRESS.

When my son and his future bride first got engaged and I started thinking about what to wear, I had thought to get a nice fancy dress, but not a gown. Then the MOB (mother of the bride) said to me, “Oh, this is going to be a formal wedding. Of course you should get a gown.” Then my sister (herself a MOG several years back) advised me it was protocol to wait for the MOB to choose her gown. As the MOB, apparently a more honored position, she gets first dibs on color, style...whatever.

So I waited, and every so often I checked with the MOB. After about six months, she had purchased three gowns and couldn’t decide which to wear. So I waited some more. Finally she told me to just buy what I wanted. She didn’t care. Relief! Time to go shopping.

Off I went with my sister and close friend to a New Jersey mall that has a Macy’s, a Lord & Taylor and a couple other higher-end department stores. After spending a couple hours, traipsing through four department stores and trying on about 15 gowns, I came away empty-handed. But I did have the names/tag numbers of a couple gowns we really liked but couldn’t find in the right size or color.

Speaking of color...there aren’t a lot of options in gowns for women of a certain age (who might want to cover up, for example, the fleshy part of the arm!). I found black, navy or other shades of blue, champagne and pewter. I could have found more at a bridal salon, but those aren’t cheap, and I had no intention of spending $300 on a dress (plus alterations). Yes, it’s my son’s wedding, but I’d rather give the money to them than spend it on a dress. Besides, no one will be looking at me...except for that minute or so in the mother-son dance...

Anyway, back home I spent hours online searching for those few I had liked, but again came up empty. I found a site that had gorgeous gowns in lots of colors and decent prices, but it was in Hong Kong. I kept trying to figure out how I’d return the dang thing if I needed to...shipping to Asia probably meant a lot of money, maybe customs forms and who know what else. Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

Finally, with less than three months before the big event, I asked the bride-to-be to go shopping with me. That day we set out for a nice mall with a good variety of department stores--a Macy’s, JC Penney’s, Nordstrom, Dillard’s...I forget what else. Several hours, four stores and about 20 more gowns tried on later, I came away with an Adrianna Pappell (I love her stuff), and it was on SALE at Dillard's! Yes. 

(To review, it took the bride one visit, one shop and about six tries to find her dream wedding gown.

Me, the MOG?...Two states, eight department stores and 30-35 try-ons. Might have been more. After a while they all started to blur into one gown...)

But it was worth it. I LOVE this gown. It makes me feel wonderful. It makes me feel like I’m half my age...like I still have some va-va-va-voom left. I tried it on for hubby when I got home and he said, in typical hubby fashion, “Well, I guess you better not gain any weight.”

Sigh...

Moments later he clarified with,“You look FABULOUS,” and then eyeballed the cleavage. (Maybe I do still have it!)

As for now, the gown is safely (I hope anyway!) in the alterations shop for hemming at a perfect length to show off the new bling-y shoes I bought. They have three-and-a-quarter-inch heels. Even if I only wear them for the church and that minute or so during the mother-son dance, I’ll enjoy every minute.

This wedding thing is starting to feel real!

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Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil and the power of love. After all this wedding prep, she’s starting to dream up wedding stories. Who knows, they might actually make it into a book at some point. Learn more at leahstjames.com or visit her on Facebook. She loves visitors!


   

Fruition

If you've been following my posts for the last 3 months, you'll be aware that my daughter Cristal's wedding finally (phew!) took place Memorial Day weekend.  On the Saturday we had a Welcome Party for all our guests, an informal get-together on a tavern rooftop in Manhattan.  Since most of our guests were from out of town, or at least out of state, it was wonderful to have that opportunity to chat with them all.  The prize for coming the furthest went to Rosy Greenaway, a friend of Cristal's from school days, who had to take 3 different planes and a helicopter over 36 hours to get out of Afghanistan to NYC...along with her helmet and flack jacket.
     The wedding itself went off like a dream; even the rain held off until 1.30 am when it all ended.  Here's a little photo story of it all:

Ceremony out on terrace of Stone MIll

Cristal & Daniel with some of the
 Colombian family at the Welcome Party    

with my family

First Dance

                                                      Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my story, City Boy, Country Heart has come out in the anthology, Come Love a Cowboy.  I'm very excited to be in this anthology with six other terrific authors:  Hebby Roman, Hildie McQueen, Kristy McCaffrey, Patti Sherry-Crews,  Devon McKay and Carra Copelin.  It's available now at https://www.amazon.com/Cowboy-Keep-Contemporary-Western-Collection-ebook/dp/B072869SGV/

Catch a cowboy … Keep a cowboy …

Don’t miss this great collection from USA Today, Amazon Bestselling, and Award-Winning authors!! 

THE LEGEND OF BAD MOON RISING by Carra Copelin

Dinah Horne left for Dallas, Texas, to make her mark. When her money runs out, she returns to her hometown and the man she can’t forget. Sheriff Ben Hammond is finally over the woman who shattered his heart, and he plans to rebuild his life with the Hard Luck Ranch. Under a rising moon, will Ben and Dinah surrender to the passion still burning hot between them?

CITY BOY, COUNTRY HEART by Andrea Downing

Rodeo star and rancher Chay Ridgway has left Wyoming to follow his girlfriend, K.C. Daniels, to New York. Leaving behind all he knows for a small bite of the Big Apple, Chay discovers the canyons of city streets may be too claustrophobic for this cowboy. As K.C. continues her two years of study for her Master’s degree, can she also keep a rein on Chay’s heart? Will this cowboy become a city boy, or will the wide-open spaces of Wyoming call his country heart home?

BLUE SAGE by Kristy McCaffrey

Braden Delaney has taken over the family cattle business after the death of his father, but faced with difficult financial decisions, he contemplates selling a portion of the massive Delaney ranch holdings known as Whisper Rock, a place of unusual occurrences. Archaeologist Audrey Driggs arrives in the remote wilderness of Northern Arizona searching for clues to a life-altering experience from her childhood. Together, they’ll uncover a long-lost secret.

THE DRIFTER’S KISS by Devon McKay

Addison Reed’s stock is coming up short. Unfortunately, she suspects her foreman and dearest friend may be the person responsible for the missing cattle. For Sawyer Dawson, Hardin, Montana, is nothing more than a pit stop before moving on to bigger and better things. After a surprise kiss leads to helping a damsel in distress, he starts to question his drifter ways.

HER MAN by Hildie McQueen

Deputy Mark Hunter’s past returns full force when the first murder in twenty years happens on his watch in the usually quiet town of Lovely, Montana. This is definitely not the time to fall in love, especially with the beautiful witness Eliza Brock, who may be involved.

BORDER ROMANCE by Hebby Roman

When Leticia Villarreal, a lonely widow, considers adding Quarter horse racing to her ranch, she finds she has a lot to learn. John Clay Laidlaw, a millionaire rancher and old acquaintance, races Quarter horses and offers to help. But he also cares for her and wants a relationship. Remembering his high-handed tactics when they were young, she doesn’t trust him. But when someone tries to harm her horses and John Clay rushes to her rescue, can she open her heart to him?

PHOENIX HEAT by Patti Sherry-Crews

When Harper Donovan loses both her fiancé and business in that order, it’s the end of her dream of making it in New York City. Returning to the bosom of her family in Arizona is not her favorite option, but it’s her only one. When she meets handsome firefighter and cowboy Frank Flynn, she decides it’s time to get into the dating game again. Except Flynn shows no interest and dodges her, but not before claiming they’ve met before. Will his past and their differences extinguish the heat between them?

Available at https://www.amazon.com/Cowboy-Keep-Contemporary-Western-Collection-ebook/dp/B072869SGV/

I hate blubbering in public! ~ By Leah St. James

I can’t recall if I’ve mentioned before, but my younger son is getting married in July. As the Mother of the Groom (MoG, as I call myself), my involvement in the wedding planning has been fairly nonexistent in the year or so since the couple set the date. Things have ramped up in the past few weeks as the MoB (Mother of the Bride) asked for some help, which I’m happy to give. Plus I still have to find a venue for the rehearsal dinner which will be in a town where the couple grew up, 400-something miles away...meaning I can’t get there in advance to check it out... Oh, and I still have to buy a dress.

But it's all good. It's a happy stressful. Here's a picture from their Senior Prom, more than ten years ago, and they're still together. Aren't they cute?

Anyway, with all that on my mind, I had completely forgotten about the one part of the big event where I’ll really be in the spotlight–the part where my son and I do the groom/mother dance.

I realized this, ironically, when I was riding with him on the trip that I wrote about last month. We were on the way home with my sister, listening to his play list on his iPod, when I said, “Hey, (Son No. 2), do we have to pick a song to dance to for your wedding?” (I think there was a hint of panic in my voice.) “Uh...yeah....I guess so,” he answered, equally enthused.

Neither of us likes being in the spotlight, and neither of us is a skilled dancer. The chances of us breaking into one of those choreographed routines posted on YouTube are probably zero, so picture us swaying to some ballad in the middle of an empty dance floor for an interminable three or four minutes ... if not longer depending on which song we pick...

Determined to tackle this task head on, I pulled out my phone and started Googling “Mother/son dance songs for weddings.” Of course I got pages of suggestions and started scrolling through one that said “Top 50 mother/song dance songs for weddings.” Certainly I could find a song among 50!

First on the list: Josh Groban’s “You Lift Me Up.” Hmm...it’s a nice song, but doesn’t really give me a mother/son vibe.

Next was “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. It’s one of my favorite songs by Diana Ross and the Supremes, but again, not a mother/son song, to me.

On I searched through a lengthy list of songs by country music artists. All seemed perfectly acceptable, but my son really, really loathes country music, so they were out.

Next came some pop groups like Boyz 2 Men. My son hates pop music.

Moving on... “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole. Okay, it has an island-type beat (which makes sense since he’s Hawaiian), which my son (oddly) does love. Unfortunately...he HATES The Wizard of Oz!

Good grief, I thought as I continued scrolling. There must be a song...

Finally my eyes lit on “Child of Mine” by Carole King.

“I love Carol King!” I announced as I clicked on the YouTube video.

I listened to the lyrics (briefly excerpted here):

“Although you see the world
Different from me
Sometimes I can touch upon
The wonders that you see
All the new colors
And pictures you’ve designed
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine...”

Oh dear...my chest tightened, my eyes began to fill, and just that fast I burst into tears. “Are you CRYING, Mom?” the object of my emotion shouted from the front seat. I couldn’t answer so my sister passed a handful of tissues back to me. They didn’t help.

I kid you not, I cried like that for ten straight minutes...then I stopped for a few and started crying some more. I’m crying now just thinking about it. (Who was it who wrote the blog a few weeks back about criers??)

Obviously sentimental songs are out, which probably means ballads are out. Which means we might have to do one of those choreographed mother/son dances that will keep me so busy and focused I won’t think about the fact that my BABY is GETTING MARRIED!

I’m sure everything will be fine. I’m sure as I’m blubbering in front of all these people, and my face mottles, my nose swells and turns an unattractive shade of burgundy, everyone will understand. Right?

Just in case...any of you who’ve married off your sons and had to go through this, HELP! Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

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Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil and the power of love. She blogs here on the 6th and 22nd of the month and promises to share pictures of the mother/son wedding dance when the time comes, as long as they don’t show her face. 

Visit Leah at LeahStJames.com or on Facebook at Facebook.com/leahstjames

The Wedding, Part Two by Andrea Downing

If you’ve ever watched ‘Project Runway’ you will know that the most biting criticism Michael Kors can make of a design is that it’s ‘sooooo Mother of the Bride.’ 

Being Mother of the Bride entails almost as much beauty and dress consideration as that of the bride—there’s the same rush to lose weight or keep weight down, the same discussions with a hairdresser and/or make-up artist, and the same madness concerning what-to-wear, only there’s no bridal salon to help.

I lost some weight, but not much.  Medication for AFib and blood pressure has got my metabolism going backwards while age has got my flesh sagging southwards.  I envisage myself looking one way and find something totally different in the mirror, much to my disgust.  With time at a premium, dress after dress arrived from every department store imaginable and was just as swiftly returned to them, with such speed it sent my credit card swirling. 

The $8,000 dress I WON'T be wearing!

A visit to Saks found me the most gorgeous dress in which I felt like a princess, looked like a million, and fainted at the $8,000 price tag.  An overconfident salesperson? What would I be paying for?  It was just a floor-length, shirt-waist  dress that the designer had manufactured in a rather nice silk.

Cristal and I set aside another evening, after she got off work, to go look again, this time starting at Bergdorf’s.  It was a disaster.  While a dear friend had suggested I book personal shopping, personal shopping had lost my booking and handed me over to a gentleman salesperson who knew nothing about me, despite the lengthy info sheet I had completed.  After trying several dresses, we headed off to what we believed was our last chance, a small boutique specializing in evening wear.

Nothing appeals to me much less than pulling off layer upon layer of winter clothing to slip into the silken folds of some evening dress that makes me look like Miss Piggy the day she danced with Nureyev, even if the dress was designed by the same Italian who did my daughter’s beautiful wedding gown.  After about four dresses were discarded and handed out through the curtain to our nervous salesperson, I finally slipped on a dark blue dress, off the shoulder, with a low back,  and very slimming. Cristal zipped up the back.  Bingo!  I looked fantastic.  I stepped out of the dressing room—and was told the dress was on backwards. A wraparound belt hides the front zip.  Wonderful!  What better!  It will save me the indignity of having to ask the doorman to unzip my dress in the back at two o’clock in the morning.  No, it isn’t off the shoulder nor low in the back, but the cowl collar suits me and I was set to go. And it sure as heck didn’t cost Eight Grand.

While my daughter has been a major domo, working to both save the world and save the wedding, I’ve stood by aghast at the ideas that have flowed past me.  Place settings, transportation up to the Botanical Gardens where the wedding is being held, a bilingual website with all the information and for easy R.S.V.P.ing, gift bags, ballet shoes so the ladies can kick off their heels to dance, hairdresser, and make-up. And spray tan.

Spray tan?

What a super idea.  I have such white, pasty skin I was immediately game for this innovation.  My niece did this prior to her wedding and looked fabulous—immaculate. We decided both Cristal and I would go for a trial run at the same place as my niece. I tell you now I have never before had spray tan.  I had used tanning beds ages ago before beach holidays, but never had the color sprayed onto me.  I may have even tried the stuff that comes out of a bottle and leaves your bathroom a wreck but spray tan, not on your nelly.

Let me sum it up by saying nothing is more humiliating than standing stark naked except for a paper diaper and a plastic shower cap while some stranger sprays what looks like liquid poo-poo at you. 

Still, the only disaster thus far in the proceedings is that Cristal’s hairdresser has family problems and won’t be able to do her hair.  He is, however, training a replacement.  If that’s all that goes wrong. . . .

And should Carolina Herrera wish to make a donation of her evening dress, she can find me at http://andreadowning.com