You missed your shot. Seriously, you had a chance to have nearly 400 admirers smile and coo at you as you walked down the aisle in your white satin and toulle dress, your baby feet bare, carrying that cute white flower ball/pom. You would have loved the attention. You did so well at the rehearsal, leading the older flower girl, taking her by the hand, encouraging her to take the steps. But then, on your big day, you blew it. You decided not to nap, ate orange cookies that you drooled on to the front of your pretty dress, and then threw a toddler tantrum in the atrium of the beautiful Catholic church. God was not pleased. And neither were your parents egos. The photographer did manage to capture a few perfect photos, for posterity, but we'll all remember what could have been.
Love,
Mama
P.S. #flowergirlfail
*****
We spent the better part of last week in Indianapolis for my cousin, Laura's, wedding. She and Garret made quite the handsome couple, ever stylish in their rehearsal and wedding day attire. The MOH and Best Man rocked the toasts, and the open bar fueled several fabulous hours of getting our groove on.
It was so nice to get to spend some QT with the Fergs, my mom's side of the family. I used to spend at least two weeks per year at their house in Zionsville, a suburb of Indy. I was last out there four years ago, when my aunt and her friends hosted a bridal shower for me. Prior to that, I hadn't visited since driving through on my way to Block Island. Fortunately, I have gotten to see some of the family in other locations - my cousin Adam, lived in San Francisco when I was in Tahoe. They all attended my wedding. Laura moved to Portland more than a year ago, and her parents visited right after Francie was born. Needless to say, it was fun to show Alex where I spent some of my most memorable times as a youth, and to take a walk down memory lane. Mostly, I was excited to show Alex in person the crazy big pantries that are common in Zionsville. Every cereal imaginable. Seriously, even Cookie Crisp. Ad I loved those flaky rolls that you could peel apart. My cousin Ben reminded me that now that I'm 31 I can, in fact, buy all that packaged junk food myself. But it just can't hold a candle to my 10 year old excitement at eating in Indy, free from my mom's soy nuts and carrot sticks. And as usual. I took plenty of photos to document the fun time we had.
Thank goodness for "Beebee" on the plane - he entertained while I worried about keeping the plane afloat.
Midwest pantry. For reals. And this ain't nothing, because the Fergs don't even have any kids living at home anymore.
Food like this. No joke.
Tea party with BDA.
Uncle Jeff, Adam, Aunt Carol, Ben and gfriend Mallory, me and the Bean.
Hey Kinny, the phone's for you.
Cuzzie-uncle Ben.
Cuzzie-uncle Ben.
Laura and Garret rehearsing.
Mama and Bean.
So good.
Rehearsal. Photo credit to Adam Ferg.
Flower girl.
"Hersh" aka hairs.
Mama and Dadddy kisses.
Getting primped.
Early signs of a meltdown.
What could have been ...
Married.
Big pimpin. Al rocks a zoot suit.
They even had their own sign. And so did Metal Fest.
With the bride and groom.
Cuzzie-uncle Adam, Lady J, and the Bean.
Just a little light catholic reading she picked up from the church.
I wear my sunglasses.
More Adam. Photo cred at Adam.
Driving Miss Francie,
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