Bein' a Bride

So I got to rub shoulders with the soon-to-be bride --this is her beaming with her god-daughter this past weekend. Regardless of any drugged up delirium I may have had that day, I learned a few things.
1. It is not easy being from a large family. Rose and I were talking about it and she likened it to being in a high school clique, although one that stays with you your WHOLE LIFE. The role you were assigned at a young age is the mantle you wear for the rest of your life. Ah yes, you may accomplish things, you may get married or not, you may be whatever version of success or failure they deem is success or failure, but in the end... it is easier for families to operate if you stay loosely in the role that everyone sees you in. Be that : the smart one, the pretty one, the stubborn one, the clumsy one... ever wonder why some children move as far as possible away from family? Or why the NW of the US is so dang independent? Ask people where they are from. Where their family is. We have a lot of escapees here.
2. Family is a comfort. The good side. They know your sadnesses, the reason for your happies, they know your life. There can be comfort in not always having to explain yourself, who you are, how you came to be.
3. Family can make you crazy. Innocuous simple words such as "Can you pick up that piece of cookie on the floor?" " What did you get from Aunt Mabel?" can send a daughter into fits of apoplexy that only the oh so special mother-daughter relationship can explain.

At one point Rose put her head on my shoulder and said "I am glad you are the type of mom you are... thank you."

I will try to remember these light and appreciative moments when my now 15 year old tries my patience, pushes my buttons, and rolls into her own special teenagerland in the next couple years.

Dress Shopping for Assistant to the Bride

I am seeing a pattern. Bridesmaid dresses all seem to be for much younger females than I. As in, ones with perky small non-childrearing breasts, a 'sleeker' waist and let's just face it, overall YOUNGER. The clincher was when I tried on a dress and had to manually pull parts of my anatomy up about 6 inches (I am not kidding) to smoosh in those parts of my anatomy into the too small breast containment zone. I could not figure out what the lumps were above my belly button. They were my boobs flattened. That was a very sad realization. Not a good look. (But hey, I would really make the lovely bride look good, wouldn't I?) And really, spaghetti straps? Those won't even hold my .... well, we are running a family style blog here. I am thinking the whole strapless concept is a danger zone for me unless this is a 'clothing optional' wedding. And it is not. What if I had to jump in the air with my arms up for some strange reason?

I think I will start looking at the mother of the bride/groom dresses.....