On 4 weeks to go til the wedding


I feel slightly sick just writing that, but it’s been such a crappy day I felt the need to put fingers to keyboard, just to download.

This weekend coming up is the Hen night which seems to have slightly horrifically turned into my worst nightmare: a fancy dress session. I had imagined me and my closest friends all dressed gorgeously sipping bubbly somewhere sophisticated; instead there’s a high chance we’ll be ending up in wigs and deely-boppers, swerving through Soho, while I just die of mortification at the back of the crowd, only staying because a revived adolescent fear of ducking out and being labelled not ‘fun’ is a worse option.

Anyway I shall trust in my Best Friends knowing me well and pulling the situation back if it looks like I’m going to cry. At the age of 41!!!

Re the wedding generally, I feel as if I have peaked too soon, as I currently feel pretty tired and ambivalent about the whole thing. Basically the pre-wedding experience has fallen into 3 eras:

  1. The calendar year before. Most of 2012. Engaged but wedding not imminent, so endless browsing through bridal magazines, cutting out ideas, daydreaming of details that’ll make the day.
  2. Turn of 2013. Total panic that it means it’s about to happen. With 4 months to go, all the smaller decisions suddenly have to be made. Spend evenings transferring colossal sums of money to various people and writing lists.
  3. 6 weeks to go. Exhausted. Give away magazines which I’ll never have time to read to a newly engaged bride friend (whom I regard with a degree of pity). Have wedding dress fitting. Fitter pleased with weight loss (‘Ooh that zip now just zooms up’) but in hand stitching the waist now leaves little stitch marks all around. Can’t think of a solution so can’t be bothered to mention it. Will just smooth them out in Photoshop after the day. See other friends’ wedding photos appear on Facebook as they marry. Find it somewhat astonishing that they have gone back to what seems total normality afterwards. Order a million massive balloons from America that I’ll probably forget to take up to the reception. Flapping about purchasing new hiking trousseau for honeymoon. Spend HOURS online searching for a) the killer sophisticated hen night outfit (which also has to serve various other functions between now and wedding) (so far have managed to get a pair of white (?) sarong trousers from Zara, but have no top and no shoes) b) sexy but practical hiking gear that’ll mean in our honeymoon photos I look like someone who’s actually at home on a mountain rather than someone who’s just ambled Mr Benn-like through the wrong door from a library c) magic pants that’ll cinch (pron. Kinch or Sinch?) in my waist, thereby highlighting my new handsewn pattern without leaving a massive VPL round my bum. Bizarrely the thinner I get (and lets face it I’m not that thin, but 11kgs less than I was when got engaged) the fatter I feel. These pants crush in my flesh so tightly that the rest of my body just pillows out around them, displaying unique patterns of cellulite where I didn’t think you could get them. Am thinking of having ‘I’ve borne your children’ tattooed across my tummy for just such moments.

Anyway, that’s about it. Somehow I’m going to have to reinvigorate myself to get through the final push. Am thinking I need a new notebook, with room for lots of lists: clothes for hen night; jobs pre wedding; jobs day before wedding; packing for honeymoon; jobs round the house pre wedding (it’d be so nice not to have to come back to the current pigsty we’re living in); jobs in the garden; work jobs; life-fulfilling jobs.

Probably my humour is not helped by every paper I open being full of Sheryl Sandberg leaning in one direction or another, leaving me in a dizzy spin of indecision about who I am or what I want. Though I do think today* has highlighted that Majority Part Time Mother is not for me the path to delight and fulfillment.

* Mess around coralling boys to get dressed before leaving at 9 to take them to 2 different nurseries. Arrive home to see DH(2B) failed AGAIN to put away his breakfast stuff. Start to put it away, stop, put it back out again to Make A Point. I am not wasting my paid for child-free time to tidy up after other people. Consequently kitchen remains a mess all day which makes me even more grumpy. After a fast day yesterday spend 20 minutes prowling around looking for nice food. End up eating cooking chocolate chips, and then after finding a scone having a cream tea at 10am. Work (interspersed with clothes browsing. Netaporter. outnet. julesb. boden. jaeger. john lewis. the list goes on. and on. and then I go through them all again) until 1 (obviously do not bill client the clothes browsing time). Go to collect DS2 from nursery only to find him asleep in his nappy in a room full of 20 other sleeping 2 year olds (touches even my heart strings). They were not supposed to give him a nap, but I can’t bear to wake him so go to the shops for food (crisps, not good), home, lunch, squint at The Good Wife with the sun shining on the TV screen, then get a call from nursery to say DS2 is now up so do a couple of emails to Make Another Point then go back to get him. Drive to JLP to collect Magic Pants ordered online. Intending to spend the hour there but massive influx of food and refined sugar all morning has given me v upset tummy so have to rush home. 20 minutes pause then have to lever DS2 back in car to go to get DS1. Take him to local Clarks to return his shoes which are coming apart. Massive queue of other mothers and schoolchildren. No other shoes available so eventually get 10% off. Can’t be bothered to argue. Am also suffering from unexpected heat as the sun is out. Lever children back into car, DS2 squirming so much I bash shin, just where it will be seeable at the weekend below my new white trousers. Nearly freak out. Need to go to garden centre to get food for plants, new rose for watering can etc. DS1 finds this a totally traumatic suggestion and cries so much at the thought give up and drive home. Make them share a Mini-Milk. Which obvs isn’t enough for 2 growing boys so spend the next hour rowing with them about what else they can eat. Finally freak out when DS1 stuffs so much dried apple in his mouth he can’t talk. He looks like august gloop (though I have just weighed him and his percentile is normal…). Eventually we go upstairs for a change of scene. I’m trying to read Plato to choose a wedding reading but in 40 minutes get through 1 page. They bounce madly on all the beds, throw themselves around and generally go a bit mental. I go downstairs to get tea ready, hearing one of them throw the box of lego all over our bedroom. Ignore it. Give them tea on a table on the decking. All going well until the end when DS1 throws water and yoghurt everywhere, blaming DS2. Howls hysterically when I ask him to clean it up, to the extent I have to drag him inside and shut the patio doors before someone calls the police. Finally we sit on the sofa and watch 10 minutes of Madagascar 2 while I count down the seconds until DH2B’s key is in the garage door. He was about 7 minutes later than usual tonight, somewhat alarming, due to taking a phonecall and riding back along the riverside. Never have I been so glad to see him. Resolution to avoid wine in run up to wedding abandoned.

On the plus side I did make an nice trout and beetroot salad for our tea, which was only interrupted about 10 times by calls from the boys regarding allocations of trains and cars in their bed.

So that’s about it.

I was also going to write about my recent 10k run and the collapse of my pelvic floor but you can use your imagination.

Over and out.

Roaring Kate.


One response »

  1. Pingback: On pre-wedding dreams slash nightmares | Roaring Kate

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