Location, Location, Location



View from the inn of our tent

I realized last night, still in awe of my husband's incredibly touching guest post, that I had not yet written anything about our engagement or about finding our wedding location.  For most couples these two things would not be intertwined.  But for us, they were.  So the logical thing to do is to write about them in consecutive posts.  What's somewhat particular to us is that they're in the reverse order to what you'd expect.

Rich and I are practical people.  Not unromantic, but practical.  I had never lived with a significant other before Rich and knew that it wasn't in my plans to live with a man I didn't intend on marrying.  And, in my typical blunt fashion, I told him so.  Luckily for me he felt the same way.  So when we moved in together in May of 2011 it was fairly inevitable we'd get married.  Our hypothetical conversations about a wedding slowly changed from "if" to "when" and after living together for a couple of months we realized that we didn't want to wait too long.  And while we were comfortable discussing the practicalities of a wedding, neither of us wanted to spoil the fun and romance of an engagement.  Somehow we were lucky enough to achieve both goals.


Just married - beautiful lake in the background

As any realtor or house hunter will tell you, the three most important things about a home are location, location, location.  And for us the same could be said about our wedding.  Choosing the right location was very important.  Knowing we were getting married it took us about five minutes to come to the conclusion that we both wanted to get married in Vermont. Rich no longer had family in his hometown of CT.  We knew we couldn't easily afford a wedding in my hometown of NYC - nor did we want our guests taking out a second mortgage to afford flights and hotels. And our current town of DC is just too darn hot for anything but a winter wedding.  Vermont, a state which we both love and where plan to live (again, in my case) someday, was the very obvious choice.  So, after a week in Northern New York in August of 2011 - though not yet engaged - we headed to Vermont to scope out some potential locations.  I had laid out an entire itinerary for the weekend consisting of four locations per day.  We only had one weekend to look that summer and wanted to make the most of it.  Our first stop was Shore Acres Inn in North Hero, along the eastern shores of Lake Champlain.  The driveway leading to the Inn is right off a main road through the islands and happened to be on the route of many trips from Vermont to our family house in upstate New York.  I must have passed it two dozen times in my years in VT.  I always thought it looked lovely but had never actually set foot on the property.  We knew the minute we did that it was the spot for us.  The lakefront was expansive and pristine.  There were 20 lakefront rooms with a New England, beachy feel.  And the innkeepers were a warm, wonderful couple who took pride in their beautiful spot.  There was a 9-hole golf course, tennis courts, kayaks and swimming dock on the property, which fit perfectly with our desire for our guests to spend the weekend and enjoy Vermont.  They also had Labor Day weekend available.

Enjoying our reception on the lakefront

But we had seven other locations to see.  Just like you can't buy the first wedding dress you try on or the first house you look at, you can't reserve the first venue you see!  So, we thanked the innkeepers and kept moving.  We went to two other places in the Lake Champlain Islands that day.  Neither held a candle to Shore Acres.  It had everything we wanted.  But we still had so many places to see!  Could we really commit without seeing the other locations?  Rich was convinced we could.  But that's his way. He's the decisive one in our relationship.  I'm the one that needs a little more time to make sure I'm making the right decision.  I'm still a pretty decisive person (except when it comes to a menu of any kind, as Rich will readily tell you) but I just need more time than he does to make big decisions.  But, convinced Shore Acres was meant for us, buoyed by their Labor Day weekend availablity (and slightly terrified someone else might snag it if we waited!), we called and put down a deposit and held a block of rooms.  It was that simple.  We were done!  And the bonus was the rest of our weekend was now free to enjoy Vermont, which we happily did.

Rich left Vermont that Monday morning while I stayed for work.  That night, I drove back to the Islands and met my mom for dinner to show her the spot we had chosen.  Because we weren't yet engaged, we decided to only tell our parents we had chosen a location.  Everyone else could wait until the engagement, even our close friends and our parents close friends.  So as my mother and I sat at the Shore Acres Restaurant for dinner that night, I swore her to secrecy.  Told her she could share this news with even her best friends.  What I didn't know was she was already keeping a secret of her own....

The unbelievable sunset on the night of our wedding

Guest Post: Rich's perspective on THE dress

Below is my husband's guest post which he volunteered to write about his perspective on my dress. Completely unedited by me.  I expected it to be filled with musings on the cranky mood I'd get in each time it was a dress shopping (or fitting) day.  Or how he learned what ruching is.  Or how he diligently set the DVR to record countless dress shows.  Just generally a lot of good-natured poking fun at me.  But he went an entirely different way. No photos necessary on this one.  Tissues may be, though (they were for me!). 

I'm a very lucky gal:

I suppose every couple is slightly different in how they plan a wedding. Some grooms are assigned a few day-of-the-event tasks by their bride, some just have to show up. From the beginning Kate and I agreed we didn't want that. I felt like planning the event was just as much my responsibility as hers. So we shared responsibility for some tasks (venue selection, rentals, catering). For others, one of us in charge of the things we do best. My wife's style and crafting ability is well documented on this blog so the big decisions of color and decoration were hers. I make my living as a designer so all printed material was up to me. But even when one of us was assigned the lead on a task, the other was right there offering feedback. Our wedding was definitely a partnership.

 

Except for one thing. The dress. Wait, I said that wrong. THE dress. Ladies, after months of coordinating and agreeing on everything else, you should know that it's a bit of an odd experience to be cut out of a major event. It's especially odd because we didn't make a habit of sharing things like fork selection or early invitation concepts with our friends. Meanwhile, as a groom you get the sense that dress pictures are swirling around as her mother, my mother, heck my father, her friends, and all of the women between ages 15 and 50 in the DC metropolitan area see pictures of your bride in various dresses. It was a struggle for my personality to decide which way to run with it. On the one hand I'm innately curious (nosy) and resourceful (sneaky) and I've never liked missing out on anything. On the other hand the various dress selection expeditions looked stressful and packed full of much trying on and commenting—not my favorite task. And for once I had a valid excuse to miss it completely.

 

Only now, two and a half months after the wedding I'm just beginning to understand why getting the right dress was so important to Kate. The entire time she had to worry about how she'd feel it in, and what other women would think about it. But mostly, she was worried that I'd like it. And that blows my mind. I guess she wasn't in my head when I turned around on the beach and saw her for the first time, and the thought that ran through my head was I had to be in the wrong place because there was no way this beautiful creature wanted to marry me. And she must have somehow missed the epic struggle I had holding myself together as she walked down the aisle. Her dress was simply perfect. It was a little vintage for her love of her family and where she comes from. It was a little sleek because she is, and always will be, a Manhattan girl. It was little understated because when you're smart you know it and don't need to show off. And it was elegant. Because that's who Kate is. And I'm the lucky guy who got to marry her.

THE DRESS

Me and my honey (and, of course, THE dress)

Every magazine, website, and television show has made it their duty to ensure that a bride understands the magnitude of the decision of finding THE dress.  I swear to all that is holy most of these sources are fairly convinced the dress decision is at least as important as the groom decision.  The right dress is the holy grail of the entire wedding planning process.  And heaven knows, it cannot be just A dress.  It must be THE dress.  And so it's not surprising that even the most level headed of us can crumble under the pressure of finding THE dress.

A month after our engagement, my MOH flew down to DC from Boston for the weekend.  We went to a dress shop recommended by a friend who had gotten married the year prior which carried the bridesmaid dress I had found online.  She tried it on and we agreed it was a winner.  And then, surrounded by white satin and lace, I succumbed to all the hype.  I tried on a ruched satin dress with a single strap.  Lovely, but not what I wanted.  And then two more - a beautiful raw satin dress with a full skirt and rose bud detail and a lace trumpet dress with a flowered belt.  Both were beautiful and totally different from one another.  I loved them.  Both.   One, the satin one, was exactly what I thought I wanted.  I thought it would look beautiful at our venue.  The other, the lace one, was stunning and different than anything I had ever seen.  Modern, yet vintage.  But I wasn't "really" looking that day.  Just essentially playing dress-up.  I would wait another month until my mom came to visit.

The on-sale David's Bridal option

When mom did come town she and I went back to the same bridal shop along with Rich's mom.  I put the three dresses back on for them.  They both agreed it was clearly between the second two.  Mom and I had another appointment that day at a fancy shop in Georgetown.  We walked in and they started pulling dresses without even discussing our budget.  This made me nervous.  I had seen enough bridal shows to know the cardinal sin of dress shopping is to try on a dress you can't afford.  I used this same tactic years before when buying my first road bike and understood exactly the rationale.  So, in the midst of undressing, I piped up "Um, should we talk budget before I try these on?".  The salesgirl responded cheerily, "Oh.  All of our dresses are between about five to ten thousand".  Oh indeed...  Mom and I looked at each other, smirked, shrugged, stifled a giggle, and I kept undressing.  Five thousand was well over my budget.  But we were there, so why not.  The good news was that the five dresses I tried on couldn't hold a candle to the two back at my little shop in Virginia.

The expensive DB option

Before I was ready to commit though, I decided the wise decision would be to investigate the options at David's Bridal.  I had nothing to lose and figured if I could find a pretty, cheaper option, why not?!  My MOH had found her beautiful dress on the clearance rack there for a steal.  So, with two willing and helpful local friends in tow, we hit the store.  Unlike my previous experiences, this was a much more hands-on situation.  We dug through the racks and found dresses that could possibly look nice on me and dragged them to a dressing room.  Two were pretty nice and one of them was on sale but in the end, I couldn't bring myself to make the decision of my dress based on price.  I had bought into the hype.  It's my DRESS!  I can't make Such an important decision based on price!!  It's as if someone suggested that maybe I should marry Rich because rent would be cheaper.

In the end - and after much contemplation - I chose the lace trumpet dress from Katherine's in VA.  It was the dress that I thought looked best, that I knew my mom and Rich's mom liked best.  But most of all, I chose it because I thought that of all of them, Rich would like it best.  It also helped that I had a wonderful experience with the shop.  That's something that I definitely hadn't thought about but was wildly important.  From the time I first tried on the dress until my last fitting I had lost fifteen pounds.  I knew I would and I did.  But it did mean that my body changed and that the dress needed to change too.  In the end the seamstress at the shop brought the dress in a full two sizes and every piece of lace, every bit of trim was perfect.  It took three fittings but when it was done it was gorgeous.  And if I hadn't gotten my dress from a wonderful bridal shop, I'm not sure that would have happened. 

Waist detail on THE dress

And looking back today, I'm happy with my decision and loved my dress.  It was unique but classic, fit with our venue and flattered my figure.  The strangest part though is that sometimes, deep in the back of my brain, I still wonder if I chose the right dress.  Intellectually I know I did.  When I look at photos I know I did.  When I heard all of the genuine compliments from friends and family, both in person and from those who had just seen photos, I know I did. But there is something about the hype around it all, the magnitude of the decision (however artificial), that leaves me with a little voice in the back of my brain wondering if there was something better out there, something I hadn't tried on.  And I guess that is a lesson in itself.  Because of all the hype and all the pressure to choose THE dress, no one ever really tells you that there is no ONE dress.  There are lots of dresses.  Lots of good options.  But eventually a decision has to be made and the most you can hope for is that you're happy with your choice and have a good experience in the process.

Bustling THE dress

Note:  And just to show what a ridiculous, consuming process the dress hunt really was, my next post will actually be a guest post from Rich, sharing his perspective on the whole experience.  It should be interesting!

Dresses, Dresses and Colors Galore!

Our tent in the midst of being decorated

Few things about our wedding planning process were easy.  Two of the things that were fairly easy were our wedding colors and the bridesmaid dresses.  At first I thought colors would be daunting, with all the colors of the rainbow to choose from (and infinite combinations!).  But when I really stopped to think about it, there were certain colors I was instantly drawn to.  When I was the Maid of Honor (MOH) in my bestie's wedding, I kept a little box in my apartment filled with wedding ideas I found and would bring the contents to her on each visit to her in Boston.  Among the contents of the box was a catalog of J. Crew bridesmaid dresses, with a collection of dresses in green and cream on the cover.  I loved the combination.  I thought it was elegant yet fun.  And four years later, when planning my own wedding, I remembered that image and decided that the green/cream color combo was strongly in the running. Green is also a nice unisex color, which I thought Rich would appreciate. But I also loved photos I found f bright color palates.  We were having a late summer wedding and I thought bright colors would also be a fitting option - red, fuchsia, orange, yellow.  I was having four bridesmaids (or so I thought) and thought I could give each of them one of the colors.  They could each wear the same style dress but in a different color.  But the more I thought about it, I was drawn more to green and cream.  Rich agreed so I was sold. 



Bridesmaid dresses in action



So I instantly started the search for the perfect green bridesmaid dress.  Undeterred by the fact that I had yet to buy my own dress, I scoured the internet to see what I could find.  I was in a good friend's wedding two summers before and she had chosen beautiful bridesmaid dresses from Alfred Sung  (it's a beautiful eggplant color and I've worn it at least 3 times since and gotten compliments each time!).  I decided to start my search there.  I filtered by "green" and within a grand total of 10 minutes, found the dress.  It's fun, classic, unique and would flatter the body type of each of my fab bridesmaids.  One of my bridesmaids happened to be on gchat at the time so I sent her the link and asked her opinion.  She agreed it was a great dress.  After convincing me she wasn't "just saying it" to be a good bridesmaid, I sent the link to the other girls.  Everyone agreed they were great.  And I even liked the "pistachio" green it came in.  My MOH was coming for a visit in a few weeks so we decided she'd try it on so we could check it out in person.  Once again, we were sold.  The dresses were done.  Winner!  I then ordered a yard of the fabric, which I figured I could put to good use.  I sent a small swatch to each bridesmaid, gave one to my mom, one to Rich's mom, put one in my wallet and gave a few more to friends of my mom's who would be helping with various projects along the way.  I used that swatch a thousand times over the next year.  Keeping it in my wallet was a perfect place since I would have it with me even when I changed purses.  We used it to find the right PMS for all of our printing, during our trip to the hardware store for paint, finding ties for the groomsmen and a million other things.



Table decorated with green gingham runner, green hurricane
lamp, movable type 'R's & 'K's, apples and colorful flowers

 And as we chose decorations, I still wanted a little "pop" of color.  And I decided that I could take my love of the red/orange/fuchsia/yellow palate and incorporate it carefully into our design.  I decided my bouquet and Rich's boutonniere  would be colorful.  I also found fabulous paper lanterns on a Vermont wedding site being sold in just the right colors.  For $20 I scored 10 large lanterns and about 40 small ones.  I wasn't sure what I'd use them for but I figured they were worth the price.  We also decided that we'd have colorful napkins.  Our linens would be green or white, and the colorful napkins would be the perfect pop of color along with the flowers on the tables.

So in the end, I got everything I wanted and Rich and my bridesmaids were pleased - cute dress, great color and ideal accent colors to keep it all fresh and fun.  All in all, I think both or bridesmaid dresses and our color choices helped us continue to strike just the right "tone" for our wedding, which made us very, very happy.

Mailboxes, Etc



The finished product -
along with our favors and photo of me and my dad.



I grew up in Manhattan and today we live in a condo building in DC.  Why do I mention this, you ask?  Because to me, a mailbox is a small locked box in a row of other small locked boxes in the lobby of a building.  A lone mailbox, standing freely on the edge of a driveway with the residents' names painted on it is very bucolic to me.  So, when planning our outdoor Vermont wedding, I thought a mailbox would be a great home for cards we'd receive from our guests.  Not exactly the gilded locked birdcages of many weddings I've seen but I thought it would work well.  Once again, with the internet at my fingertips, I found a standard mailbox on Amazon for $15.  There are two issues with a "standard" mailbox.  First, mailboxes are significantly larger than they appear when driving down a country road or grandma's driveway.  They're really just quite long.  It was about 8 inches longer than I needed but figured for the price, it would do.  Second, a "standard" mailbox, as the word would imply, is a boring mailbox.  It would need some sprucing up.  And I had the perfect thing to spruce it with - chalkboard paint!  Before you think I painted chalkboard paint on everything without two (or four) legs, this is the last chalkboard paint related project.  I swear.

 

So, with the tarp still down in our living room floor - it stayed there for a solid month or two - I got to work.  Typically, it is recommended that you scuff smooth surfaces before painting.  But, I'm a bit on the lazy side and figured I'd first give it a whirl without this annoying scuffing step.  I'm not proud that I'm lazy, it's just a reality I've come to live with.  Maybe lazy isn't the right word.  It's just that I like things done, and I like them done quickly.  I'm impatient more than lazy, really because I don't mind hard work. But in addition to this tendency toward impatience, I'm also a perfectionist.  These two characteristics do not go well together and have led to more than one fight in my home.  But impatience ruled the day and I put brush to mailbox.  Three coats of paint and 24 hours later, I was done.  It took me another day to touch up some of the hard-to-reach places (like around the little red "you have mail" flag) and I was done.  When it came to the day of the wedding, my dear friend with the great handwriting simply wrote "Cards" on either side of the mailbox.  It was placed on the gift table along with our chalkboard reading "Cards & Gifts" and worked out well.  One thing I would note is that there is some risk with this option.  If you're at all concerned about the theft of envelopes - a particular concern if you're at a large venue with a large staff and multiple events - you may not want to use this idea.  A few people raised the concern that our mailbox didn't lock someone could steal the cards.  We had a plan that someone would check the mailbox throughout the night and collect the cards, but that never really materialized.  I sort of shrugged it off figuring that if someone stole wedding cards, karma would get them.  In the end we didn't lose a single card but I am aware that this is not a good project for all people and all venues.

 

One funny note about this project:  This is something I had never seen before.  I didn't steal the idea from Pinterest, a bridal show, or a blog.  I came up with it all in my own little head.  But weeks after my mailbox was  painted and packed away for the trip north, my mother called me excitedly.  That day at work she spotted one of her employees coming back from the mail room with a large mailbox in hand.  Knowing this coworker was getting married around the same time as me, she inquired - "Karen, what is that mailbox for?" to which Karen replied "I'm using it for the cards at our wedding!".  My mom then showed her a photo of my painted mailbox and they had a good laugh.  I guess sometimes great minds really do think alike!

My Daddy



My daddy and our dog Tag-A-Long



My father was 58 when I was born.  Even though he never seemed any different than the other dads, I was always aware he was older.  The downside of an older parent is knowing they might not always be around.  I grew up with the awareness that my dad wouldn't be around forever.  I always understood there was a significant chance that unless I married young, my father wouldn't be around to walk me down the aisle.  And given that I come from a long, proud line of late-marrying ladies (not to mention my penchant for dating less than fabulous guys in my formative years), marrying young was not likely.  Because I was aware of my father's age and mortality, I was at least somewhat prepared for the eventuality that he might not be alive on my wedding day.  The downside of an older parent was also an upside because I did not have the struggle, sadness, and challenge of someone who loses a parent unexpectedly, having never given such a reality any prior thought.  I have friends who have had that experience and my heart breaks for them.  For me, getting to have my dad around until 27 - to see me graduate from college, start my career, begin graduate school - was more than I had hoped for.  I felt lucky to have him for as long as I did.  

But as prepared as I may have been intellectually for a wedding without a father the reality still completely and utterly... well... sucked.  I'm not typically a very emotional person but nothing turns on the waterworks like a girl without her daddy on her wedding day.  And my skin did not thicken to it.  After planning a wedding for ten months, it was all i could do when - two months before the big day - our band leader asked us what song we'd like for the father/daughter dance.  I held it together while I explained there wouldn't be one, that my father had passed away, but then lost it as soon as we hung up the phone.  

And so, we decided to skip the father-daughter dance.  And I asked my mother to walk me down the aisle.  It has been just the two of us for five years.  And I decided I didn't need some male relative - even though I have great ones - stepping in to walk me down the aisle.  My mama and I would be just fine together.  We included language in the program to honor my daddy but I wanted something more.  I needed another way to have him with me on that day.  And so I began to think.  And after a great deal of thought, I came up with the beginnings of a plan.  My father was a printer - a great printer.  And some of my fondest memories of my father from my childhood are of him working.  I can see him bent over our dining room table (which gets great natural light) intently examining a print with his loop.  I used to love going with my father to the printing presses.  There were two in the shop, which I had named Big Bird and Snuffleupagus (Snuffy).  The smell of printer's ink can quickly bring these memories flooding back.  And so, we decided to subtly incorporate some printing materials into our decorations.  We went to Eastern Market - the best outdoor market in DC - and found exactly what we were looking for: movable type and a type tray.  We bought about $100 worth of "R"s and "K"s and one type tray.  The letters would go on each table and we'd find a use for the tray.  We eventually decided to use the tray to display the mini boxes of altoids we had purchased for everyone (more on the altoids later).  I loved this stuff but knew it wasn't quite enough.  It was reminiscent of my father but I wanted something more.

One evening I was watching one of countless bridal/wedding shows that I had become addicted to over the year of our engagement.  It was one of those makeover type shows where they don't just find the girl the dress of her dreams but also the veil, makeup, and perfect hair style.  And typically these women had some sort of heartfelt story to boot.  For one woman, it was a father who had passed away.  Her father had served in the military so the industrious makeover king found one of her father's epaulets and wrapped it around her bouquet.  It was a perfect idea.  I loved it.  The only problem was i had no idea where my father's epaulets from his days in the Navy were.  We do have his medals though so I thought about using those.  But somehow that wasn't quite right either.  My father was in the Navy but it didn't define him.  Finally, it came to me.  His watch.   My father had a beautiful gold watch that I vividly remember him wearing for years which my mother kept in her jewelry box.  And so, with a few pins and a clear hair band, on my wedding day we fastened the watch around my bouquet.  It was perfect.  It was beautiful but subtle.  I could hold it as I walked down the aisle, like my daddy was holding my hand.  It was the perfect way to honor him in a way that made him feel close but wasn't too overt.

 Long ago, when I'd ask my mother about the decision to marry a man more than twenty years her senior, she'd always respond the same way.  She said she'd rather have 30 great years with a man she loved with all her heart than 50 mediocre years with a man her age.  Now, a married lady myself, this makes all the sense in the world and I couldn't be luckier that she followed her heart.  I, too, would rather have 27 great years with my wonderful daddy than 50 with anyone else, even if it meant walking down the aisle with his memory rather than the man himself.

This Ain't Your Teacher's Chalkboard

I grew up in the '80.  It was a time of leggings, neon, layered socks...and chalkboards.  While the fashion of those times has made a comeback (unfortunately), chalkboards have been replaced by dry-erase boards, "smartboards" and iPads.  This may be good for the learning experience but it made my search for chalkboards difficult.  I had seen some wedding decorations online that used chalkboards and thought they would work perfectly for our outdoor "country elegant" wedding.  So, I hopped on the interwebs thinking I'd have no problems scooping up a few chalkboards for $10 each.  This is America!  The internet!  But no such luck.  I could find an array of boards but all ran above $30 for the size I wanted and I was not spending $120 on the four chalkboards I desired! 

Instead, I went to Fragers, my favorite no-longer-in-my-neighborhood hardware store and, for $30, left with cut wood, moulding, wood glue and the aforementioned green paint.  I already had chalkboard paint at home from another project I'll cover later, so that didn't count as an expense.  I would make my own chalkboards for the price of one.  The easy work was the painting of the boards (chalkboard paint on one side, green paint on the other side, edges and moulding) and gluing the moulding for a frame.  The hard part was cutting the moulding.  Not one to do things the easy way, I wanted the chalkboards to have a frame.  My wonderful fiance agreed a frame would make them look nicer. 

Luckily, Rich's parents live 30 minutes away and have a garage full of tools.  So, armed with a fabulous tool (which I don't know the name of), Rich, his dad and I got down to the business of mitering edges.  I have a great relationship with my now-father-in-law but I definitely encourage the careful consideration of embarking on construction projects with the inlaws.  It worked out well for us, but sometimes such projects do not bring out the best in people and you want to avoid a situation which could leave you yelling at your fiance's parents while waving a circular saw above your head.  Tantrums avoided, we measured and cut 8 short sides and 8 long sides for the 4 frames.  The key with this is making sure the mitering is facing the right direction.  You want to be certain all of your angles face inward or the pieces won't fit together as intended.  Here is a good tutorial on mitering edges yourself. 

Wood cut, I hand-sanded both sides of each of the 16 frame pieces and painted them.  The final touch was using wood glue and a vice to attach each side of the frame to my board.  Because my woodworking skills aren't exactly professional grade, I used some wood filler to fix any gaps between the frame sides.  I then touched that up with more green paint and - Voila! - chalkboards!  I made four, shown below.  In the end, they ended up reading "Gifts and Cards" (for the gift table), "Please take one" (for our favors of maple syrup bottles), "Our love is as strong as these mints" (for the Altoids we gave out - this was also to fit with our first dance "That's how strong my love is" by Otis Redding), and "Please sign our guest book" (for, obvs, our guest book).  They turned out well and we saved a ton of money.

Nice

 

I was planning to write about another wedding craft project today but that will have to wait until tomorrow.  I got through three sentences and realized there was something very important I'd have to cover first.  And that's being NICE.  My mother has a sign behind her desk at work.  It says "Because Nice Matters".  My fabulous, dedicated, social worker mother has this sign in the least ironic way possible.  In her line of work, nice does actually matter and does actually count for something.  Nice makes a difference in people's lives.  But this is not the kind of "nice" I'm talking about (I wish I was!).  This kind of "nice" is not a way of behaving, it's a way of being.  Soon into our wedding planning process it became very, very clear that a wedding - ours, yours, your sister-in-law's neighbor's - must, above all things, be NICE. 

 

What is nice?  Nice is different to everyone.  To some people "nice" is Wedding Package #4 at a hotel ballroom on Long Island, to others it's a shoeless beach wedding in Mexico, or a gondola ride to the top of Breckenridge in February.  But regardless of what "nice" is, it is very, very important.  For us, understanding everyone's "nice" proved a bit of a challenge.  From the beginning, Rich and I could see our wedding in our heads.  And - thank heaven! - we were in near complete agreement on that image.  But it seemed like we had to do a lot of justifying and explaining to everyone else.  "Yes, the Inn is beautiful."  "Yes, people will be able to get to Vermont."  "Yes, we have a plan for the ceremony if it rains." "Yes, the tent will have lights." "No, the caterer won't serve hot dogs."  We knew we were doing things differently than most of our family and many of our friends.  We were doing almost everything ourselves and some of our decisions were hard for people to understand.  Yes, we would have chalkboards but they'd be pretty chalkboards.  Yes, there would be burlap but it would be hemmed and have lace detail.   Yes, the reception would be in a tent (with nothing but the ground of grass and dirt for the floor!) but there would be a proper wooden dance floor, linens on the tables, and candles.  

 

And with every explanation and justification, it felt like no one trusted us.  We were living with a constant frustration of knowing we would live up to "nice" but had no ability to assure people.  It was unnerving.  I should have let it roll off my back but instead I was left trying to figure out how I could convince people.  Left worried that people thought I had bad taste ("If they think I have good taste then they should KNOW it will be nice!!!")  It was hard to think that for our families this was a way of contributing.  This was a way of them helping to have our back.  What we heard as criticism they said as protection.  So, while I didn't need a wedding planner to pull off "Nice!" I could have used a wedding translator to know what people were really saying and do better job at hearing their intention, rather than their words.  And while I still feel anxious thinking about those stressful conversations, I am calmed believing that I think everyone there would agree we had a very NICE wedding.

 

A Wedding Registry for the 21st Century

Rich and I lived together before getting married.  And, as I've mentioned, we're sorta old (32 and 34 on our wedding day).  My point in this?  We have stuff.  Plenty of stuff.  Too much stuff already for the one bedroom condo we inhabit along with our adorable cat Stella.  We also try not to be huge consumers of stuff.  We didn't want all new stuff just because we could.  We have perfectly good stuff and we're happy with it.  (If you're like us and have similar feelings about stuff, I highly recommend George Carlin's bit on "stuff".  It's one of my favorites.) 

So the idea of registering for more stuff made us uncomfortable.  Instead, we opted for a honeymoon registry.  For the not-too-expensive price of 7%, one of various companies will help you create a wedding registry that allows guests to buy various activities for your honeymoon - airfare, dinner out, swimming with sharks (good to keep an eye on whichever guest selects this gift!).  We chose one that worked for us, filled it up with all sorts of fun activities for our New Zealand adventure honeymoon, set up a website and we were done.  It was perfect for us.  Plus, it turned out that we only ended up getting about one-third of our gifts through the registry.  Almost everyone else gave us cash.  This actually worked out better because we didn't lose out on the 7% fee of going through the registry.

Some people will be confused - and concerned - by this. Multiple caring people in my life warned me  that "people want to give you a THING" and that our honeymoon registry would make guests uncomfortable.  And we figured, so be it.  If a guest feels uncomfortable with our registry, they're welcome to give us whatever they're comfortable with.  We did not cave on what we wanted and I'm so glad.  We paid for most of our wedding ourselves and would not have been able to afford our great honeymoon without the honeymoon registry.  We would have had every kitchen gadget in the world, 8 sets of sheets and 27 towels with no place to store it all and no honeymoon.  That's not what we wanted and we're so glad we didn't acquiesce. 

The one concession I did make was for my shower.  We went to Crate & Barrel on a Saturday afternoon and clicked the fancy wand on all sorts of fun stuff that we wanted, but didn't have or really need.  My Maid of Honor (MOH) and bridesmaids ended up using it to plan a fun dining/entertaining themed shower.  I got the tablecloth, serving dishes, whoopie pie pans (!!) we registered for and then personalized recipes from each shower guests which fit neatly in a cute (green!) recipe book.  Rich and I love to entertain and host dinner parties and now we have all sorts of new menu ideas to put together thanks to this fun shower and registry.  We were able to still do things our way, help make everyone else feel more comfortable, and got to enjoy a few welcome surprises as well.

All of that said, we actually only got two wedding gifts that were not on our registry.  Both were from the phenomenal glass studio of Simon Pearce.  One of my favorite Vermont company, they have absolutely beautiful decorative and useful serving pieces.  My wonderful MOH and her husband got us an incredible centerpiece bowl engraved with our names and wedding dates.  As my friends (including my MOH) know, I am never one to go "off-registry" for people's gifts.  But in this instance, I'm so glad both couples did.  We love our special gifts from them and both are now displayed in our home.

Note:  If the name "Pearce" sounds familiar, you may know Simon's talented son Kevin who was involved in a horrific ski accident a couple of years ago.  You can read about the accident and the family here and see Kevin's amazing journey here.

Baby Break



Hanging with Nora and her canine brother

 I took a break from the blog this weekend to visit a very special baby.  Rich and I flew up to New England to visit our friends and their 5 week old baby girl, Nora.  Nora's mom is my very dear friend and college roommate. She was also a bridesmaid in our wedding.  Well, sort of....

Each year, three of my closest girlfriends from college, our significant others and I get together at New Years.  Some years it's all eight of us, some years it's fewer.  At New Years 2011, it was six of us.  We got together for dinner in Portsmouth and, before leaving for the restaurant, my fabulous friend informed us that she was pregnant!  With our wedding date already set and her already lined up as a bridesmaid, I instantly started doing the math.  Okay, it's December 30th.  If she's telling us, she must be 3 months pregnant.  That means she'll be due in June/July.  No problem!  All of this is going through my head as our other friend pipes up "When is your due date?" and I hear "August 18th".  Wait, WHAT?   Not one to keep a secret (and taking advantage of us all being together), they decided to tell us their big news at just 7 weeks pregnant.  So, instead of a baby due 6-8 weeks before our wedding, it would be two.  But this wasn't a time to think about myself.  This was a time to celebrate!  She was the first of our group to be pregnant, the first to be a mommy.  How exciting!  The  next generation of our little gang!  Woo hoo!!

We had a wonderful dinner with lots of toasting to the life events of 2012.  That night, we got back to our other friend's house outside of Boston and all headed to bed.  In the privacy of our guest room, I started to bawl.  I  knew I was being irrational, felt like a horrible friend but nonetheless, I was bawling.  My perfect wedding with my best friends as my bridesmaids would no longer be.  We've been there for each other during some of the best and worst times of our lives.  And I wouldn't have her with me.  I knew I was being selfish but I didn't care.  I was sad.  And I gave into a bit of self-pity.  It was a complete woe-is-me moment.  And God bless Rich for laying there with me, petting my hair while I cried. 

Luckily, with the morning sunrise came perspective.  I picked myself up, dusted myself off and kicked my self-pity out the door.  A few weeks later, I called my dear friend and we made a game plan.  I would do whatever she wanted - include her as a bridesmaid or not.  I let her decide knowing that if any of my friends could make it to a wedding with a two week old on their arm, it'd be her.  So we made a pact.  She bought her bridesmaid dress and reserved a hotel room and said she'd be there if she could be.  And I'd just roll with the uncertainty of it all.  I found out this weekend that she even went out and bought a car adapter for her pump and a car charged cooler so she could pump on the way to the wedding and store the milk.  Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I should have felt honored and amazed to have such a wonderful, generous, dedicated friend.

In the end, little Nora was 12 days late - arriving just two days before our wedding.  I got to talk to my dear friend on the day of my wedding and hear the joy in her voice as she talked about her little peanut.  And this weekend, I got to meet the cutest little 5-week old and spend some serious time bonding with the next generation of our little gang of friends.  I'm amazed that my dear friend and her husband created such a beautiful little creature and am impressed by the grace with which she's conquering motherhood.  Little Nora is lucky to have such spectacular parents and I'm lucky to have such a kick-ass friend.

Welcome!

Ikea Easel

Given the issue of our lopsided guest list, we wanted to ensure that guests would not seek out a "side" on which to sit when they arrived at our wedding.  Having ushers seat people randomly seemed like it would require too much explanation and put stress on our groomsmen.  So, we figured we'd put it in black-and-chalk.  I found a cute sign which someone had posted to Pinterest and I decided to make my own.  It read "As two families become one, please choose a seat, not a side."  To the point, but with some whimsy.  It had the added bonus that it didn't scream "RICH'S FAMILY IS REALLY SMALL AND KATE'S IS HUUUUUGE".  The question remained of what form said sign should take.  I knew I wanted to use chalkboards in the reception and figured it couldn't hurt to use them as part of our outdoor ceremony as well.  Thanks to some internet searching and a helpful bridesmaid, I found a great (and by great, I mean cheap) easel online at Ikea.  $15 and a 90 minute round trip car ride later, I had my easel.  Two of them actually, though I'll get to that in a minute.  Then, I went to the hardware store and, swatch in hand (TIP:  Carry your swatch in your wallet.  Regardless of changing your purse to match your outfit, you always have it on hand), found the perfect shade of green paint to match the bridesmaid dresses.  

Painted and taped

I tossed down a drop cloth in our living room, taped off the chalk board on one side and dry-erase board on the other and got to work.  Two coats of green paint later, I was done...almost.  The bottom tray - which would normally hold chalk, erasers, etc - was red plastic and did not look conducive to painting.  So, I measured the dimensions and sewed a quick burlap liner for it.  The last remaining question was what to do with the white dry-erase side.  I thought about painting it with chalkboard paint but refrained for two reasons.  First, I wanted these easels to be of good use after the wedding and second, what would I do with another chalkboard side anyway?  I thought about covering it in fabric but thought that would look distracting.  So, I decided to keep it simple.  I added one red dry-erase marker to our box of supplies.  The final touches came the day of the wedding when that same helpful bridesmaid wrote the phrase on the chalkboard side, drew a red heart with our initials (the initials were her idea!) on the dry-erase board side, placed the burlap liner in the tray and topped it with a small pot of flowers I picked up at Home Depot the day before for $.89.  It was perfect.

Our second easel, similarly decorated and adorned, was placed by the entrance to the tent where the reception would be held.  Inscribed on that was another phrase found on Pinterest which read "Come as you are, Stay as long as you can, We're all family, So no seating plan.  Again, concise and explanatory, yet welcoming and sweet.  We knew some of our friends and relatives would be confused by a lack of assigned seats and wanted it to be clear that our design was intentional.  And people loved it - they sat, ate and met new people.  And thanks to a row of high-top cafe tables at the front of the tent facing the lake, some people never sat at all.  It was exactly what we wanted and our signage definitely helped.

Welcome Easel In Action

Note:  And I'm pleased to say our easels did indeed go to good use after our wedding.  My helpful bridesmaid took one home where her adorable children are drawing on it and eating the chalk like champs!  Another good friend took the second chalkboard and donated it to her daughter's classroom.  The green perfectly matches the curtains in the classroom and the teacher uses it every day to write a welcome message to the class.  And I got to help a five-year-old make a good first impression to her kindergarten class.  You can't beat that!

Rowan Fox and His Artwork

The Guest List

We learned a few lessons with this one.  I have a big Irish Catholic family on my mother's side and a small Jewish family on my father's side.  My fiance (now husband), Rich, has a tiny family - his parents would be the only relatives invited.  So, we knew we were going to have a numbers challenge.  Rich was fully aware our "sides" would not be even.  And I was determined to do my best to tighten up my side.  So, I called my mother.  "Mom," I explained, "Rich's family is small and we have to respect that, which means no church ladies for you".  My mother, liberal New York City gal that she is, is also a dedicated Catholic who has missed Sunday mass probably a handful of days in her adult life.  I say her adult life because I think it was even fewer days during her childhood, given my grandfather's storied insistence upon leaving for church early enough to have time to change a flat tire.  Church was not to be messed with.  Therefore, she is enmeshed in our church in Manhattan and has a strong crew of church lady friends.  And I nixed them.  No discussion, no questions, no exceptions.  An across the board cut. 

This was my first mistake.  It was not that they didn't come.  In the long run, my mother was completely understanding and agreeable.  They came to our NYC engagement party and it was lovely to celebrate with them.  The problem was the lack of discussion.  I did not make her part of the process.  And I should have.  Making our parents feel a part of it all, it turned out, was a HUGE issue throughout our wedding planning process and a lesson we really learned way too late.  Rich and I were 33 and 31 when we got engaged.  We were grown-ups.  Grown-ups who wanted to spare our parents the painful, headache-inducing details of our planning.  But, as it turns out, sparing our parents ended up hurting our parents.  They wanted to be involved.  They wanted to feel helpful.

And so, this leads me to my first lesson worth passing on - figure out early how much your parents want to be involved and try to honor that.  You don't need to do what they want - if you hate pink, don't agree to blush and bashful as your wedding colors just because your mother-in-law's favorite movie is Steel Magnolias - but make them part of the conversation.  Guide them to understanding the decisions you will ultimately make regardless.  In the end, our guest list worked out.  Rich invited his small immediate family, I invited my massive extended family and my mom and I did our best to restrain our list of friends so our side didn't completely overwhelm theirs.  As an added bonus, this led me to my first craft project - a great sign which instructed people to avoid the tradition of sitting on a "bride's side" or "groom's side". 

More to come on that tomorrow!

In The Beginning

Thirteen months ago, I got engaged.  One month ago (to the day from our engagement), I got married.  The intervening twelve months were a roller coaster of high highs, low lows and an ample dose of paint fumes.  Planning a wedding and dealing with the stressors of finances, families and religion is a true test for a marriage.  We didn't know that going into it but it didn't take us long to learn.  Throughout the process I was wishing I had blogged about it.  With every craft project I took on or fun idea I posted on Pinterest, I wished I was blogging about it.  Less because I thought anyone would care and more because I wish I had documentation of the process (other than through searches of emails I sent during that time - most of which contained complaints and freak-outs sent to my ever-patient groom).  So, now that my dress is packed away and the photos from our photographer are in the mail, I've decided to try a little year-in-review.  I'll begin at the beginning and document everything I can remember - from useful tips to tearful arguments.  It will be something for me to remember my wedding by and maybe something for couples planning their weddings to learn from.