Making It Work Mom is the guest for today. Enjoy!!
When I got The Drama Mama’s emailing telling me that I was the Scoop of the Week I was thrilled. And then I saw the prompt she wanted me to write about.
White.
I was stumped.
So I asked my husband.
“White? Like the color? How do you write about a color? I don’t get it.”
Yah, he wasn’t so much help. Moving on…
I kept mulling over the prompt for the next few days and honestly the thing I kept on coming back to was my wedding day and my big WHITE dress.
It is probably the only time in my life that I wore a white dress. Not because I am not pure and wholesome (of course I am), but because I am sloppy and always end up spilling things on myself.
My wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Not because I had planned the most marvelous wedding ever and everything went off without a hitch (HA!), but because it was the day that I started my new life. My new life as part of a couple and then eventually as the matriarch (yes I am feeling all 1980’s Dallas) of my own family.
It was a good day.
Recently my girls (11 and 5) became interested in the TLC shows Say Yes to the Dress and 4 Weddings.
We would sit together all cuddled up on the couch and comment about the different dresses and weddings.
We would decide what dresses we liked best and discuss how crazy some brides were. We eventually broke out my wedding album and spent an hour or so looking through the pictures. I think it was hard for them to imagine Momma and Daddy without kids.
I started mulling over the idea of getting my own wedding dress out to show them. They had only ever been to one wedding and at that wedding the bride did not wear a traditional white dress. They had never seen a wedding dress for real, for real.
Now there was no chance that I was going to fit into my wedding dress. Those days are long gone.
*sigh*
3 kids and 13 years will do that to you.
But I could take it out of it’s box where it had been “preserved” (I don’t think that really means any more than putting it in a sealed box with some tissue paper around it) and let the girls see and touch it. It would be a fun girl’s thing.
I picked a winter Sunday afternoon where we had nothing going on and the weather was bitterly cold and announced to the girls that “today we would look at my wedding dress”.
Ahem…
Let’s try again.
“Today we would look at my wedding dress!”
Their enthusiasm was a little overwhelming.
But I pushed on. I knew they were going to love my dress. I had no doubts.
So I gathered my two girls around me with the box lying sealed on the bed and started opening the box. It was time for the big unveil.
I took the dress out of the box, a big goofy grin spreading across my face as I remembered how beautiful I felt that day.
I laid the dress across my bed admiring its sheer loveliness. I turned to look at my girls expecting to see the same look of awe in their faces.
Instead I turned to see faces with turned up lips and squinty eyes.
“You wore that.” From my 11 year old who will always tell it like it is.
“Yes. I love it. You don’t like it. Look at the all the bling and the beautiful train. You don’t think it’s beautiful?” A little desperation and disbelief may have been sneaking into my voice.
And my 11 year old probably sensing I was one wrong comment away from a complete meltdown tried to backtrack a little.
“I like it. It’s just the sleeves, and the train, and I don’t know. I don’t think it is my style.” She sighed.
I sighed.
“That’s okay. Everyone has different styles.” That is me trying to be the bigger person even when I am bitterly disappointed.
My five year old pipes in. “I love it!” and gives me a big hug.
I sigh again. I know she doesn’t mean it. My wedding dress is definitely not her style.
So I told my girls they could go. They practically ran out of the room. And I started packing up my beautiful white wedding dress alone.
I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter if my girls didn’t’ like my wedding dress. After all it was just a dress. The dress was just a symbol of a day that changed my life for better.
But that didn’t really improve my mood.
So instead I consoled myself by insisting that they were too young to appreciate the absolute fabulousness of my dress. I taped the box back up and decided that I would try again in 5 years. Surely they would get the beauty of my dress then.
Right?
The Scoop on Poop 