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Browsing Tag: bride

All the Days of Your Life

My little brother got married this weekend, far away from his hometown of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in the Madison, Wisconsin suburb of Middleton. The bride had hair like Rapunzel and a dress with a skirt that went on for miles. The groom, who wore his tux like, “yeah, I always wear these things,” ripped off his suspenders as soon as the ceremony was over because apparently, yech, suspenders. It was the best Catholic wedding I’ve ever been to–not too long!–funny, and touching, and personalized to the couple like none I’ve witnessed (the Gospel reading talked a lot about wine. So, there you go). I cried so much one of my fake eyelashes came partially unglued and started poking me in the eyelid. Nobody tripped. Or popped out of their dress/pants/etc. It was a success, as weddings go. And there’s something sticking with me. The happy couple is on their honeymoon right now, road tripping through the American midwest. They’ve known each other for a decade, have traveled together as friends, so I’m hoping this transition to husband-and-wifehood will be an easy…

How The Royal Wedding Makes Me Want a Sandwich

I turned on the TV today so SK could watch a little Clifford. I must’ve hesitated a bit too long on coverage leading up to the royal wedding, because SK finally turned to me and said, “Mom, are they married yet? Why not?” I guess Wills and Kate have been a part of the household conversations more than I’d like to admit. I just finished reading Peggy Orenstein’s Cinderella Ate My Daughter, which is all about the effects of the girly-girl culture–with all its princesses and glitter wands and glossy perfection–on girls growing up today. It basically reinforced every fear both David and I have had about the “girlie” stuff and validated my defensive pride when SK opts for Lightning McQueen instead of My Little Pony. I am a modern woman, I think, and therefore an aware mom. Yes, my daughter asks to paint her nails, but by golly she’ll go kick around a soccer ball before the polish has dried. We are rising above, dagnabit! Please. I’m so full of baloney that you could make a sandwich out of my…