Five Wedding Day Survival Tips

I severely underestimated how stressful it would be to get my very young children ready for a wedding. Severely.

I figured, my kids go to Mass every weekend and *usually* behave reasonably well.  How bad could my sister’s wedding be?

I hadn’t even considered the days leading up to the wedding, which were spent towing the hair-thin line between overstimulated and bored,  over-hungry and over-tired, and sick and content…

Then, there were the three solid days of partying– from the first guests’ arrival on Friday morning to the full day of prep leading to a late evening ceremony on Saturday to the marathon “brunch” my parents hosted at their house on Sunday.

(My parents’ “brunches” tend start sometime in the morning and last well past midnight… So, yeah, my family knows how to throw a party. )

At 11pm following the rehearsal dinner, I was at Albertson’s clearing the shelves of  lollipops, crackers, toys… basically anything colorful and shiny and distract-y… and a pack of cigarettes for me in anticipation of the next day. And I do NOT smoke.

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To my sister and brother-in-law’s credit, they presented each child in the wedding party with enormous baskets brimming with age-approriate, engaging, self-directed, QUIET toys and snacks.

Both of them are teachers and SO smart. Can’t you tell?

What they didn’t provide, I rounded out in my late night grocery trip. I packed a bag for each of my kids which also  included a change of clothes, enough food for a three-day camel journey, and a giant notecard pinned to the front detailing the contents of each bag.

These bags were then placed in the pew where the kids would sitting with my in-laws while Mike did the readings and I was being the Matron of Honor. Which brings me to my next point…

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Bring (or hire) reinforcements. In this case, it was my in-laws who were thrilled to be invited to my sister’s wedding. I, in turn, was thrilled to hand them my children during the ceremony. hehehe.

I went back and forth on whether or not to hire a sitter for the evening, eventually opting for not. My children tend to be social butterflies and night owls and weddings only happen once, so basically I’d be paying someone to do what…  Help Scout remove his socks and shoes and so he can dance barefoot all night long? 

I figured my money was better spent on a hotel room at the recepetion site, Omni Fort Worth, for the night… and one for my in-laws.

Had they not been able to attend, I would now be kicking myself for not hiring a sitter. Mike’s parents were an enormous help and were beaming with pride at seeing Scout walk down the aisle as the ring bearer and Lou in her pretty pink party dress. 

We partied until we crashed. Then, it was merely an elevator ride to our suite where warm milk and cookies were waiting for us.

(Sigh! I love the Omni.)

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Following nineteen months of careful planning, the wedding and reception were beautiful! The rehearsal, however, was awkward, painful, and disorganized… at best.

The coordinator hired by the chapel (not my sister) was aweful… and not just when pointing out to eh-EH-veryone that the bride’s parents and the groom’s somewhat distant and estranged father were meeting for the first time that night….

She also lost every scrap of information about the wedding provided to her and made it sound like my sister’s fault. My sister knows better than to take that shit and called her out on it. It was awesome.

What was NOT awesome was the hour and a half we wasted as this was unfolding. The whole rehearsal could have been accomplised in about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, Scout starting running up and down the aisle and screaming out of boredom.  Could you blame him?

When pleading, empty promises, and stern requests didn’t work, I dug deep into our diaper bag and found my crappy point-and-shoot camera. I turned off the flash, handed it to Scout, and told him to take photos of everyone. 

It didn’t keep him from having a meltdown at dinner, but at least, it kept his mouth shut when it mattered. Too bad I can’t say the same for the coordinator. Ahem!

In both instances, the key to survival is… Redirect. Redirect. Redirect.

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Stuff tissues in your bra even if you’re NOT the weepy type. If it’s your little sister’s wedding, then you, the groom, your other sister, everyone else around you, and even your dad (although he will deny it) will ugly cry like drag queens the second the doors open.

A river of black tears and not a tissue in sight.

Fortunely, my mom ran up to the altar to hand me one, which we all shared. Yeah… we’re gross. So what.

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My final piece of advice… even if you are able to trick and conive your kid into near angelic behavior with your meticulous planning, you can’t control everything.

Around noon on Saturday, I left my parents’ house to be with my sister and her other bridesmaids at the hotel, leaving Mike to feed, nap, and dress the two kids on his own.

An hour and a half before my sister was supposed to walk down the aisle, Mike called and in his radio smooth tone began with, “I don’t mean to be an alarmist, but… where are Scout’s tuxedo pants?”

I started searching for a little tuxedo with tails the day my sister asked Scout to be the ring bearer at her wedding. I found one in his size almost six months ago at a secondhand store for 20 bucks. 20 bucks!!! Renting one would have been $100 according to certain locations.

I shipped the tuxedo to Fort Worth, along with my bridesmaid’s dress, Lou’s lovely party frock, and all of our dress shoes, so none it would wrinkle in transit. As soon as it arrived, I hung everything up in an upstairs closet where it (supposedly) remained undisturbed. So in other words… OMG, THE PANTS HAVE TO BE THERE!

No luck. So not missing a beat, I made my way to the groom and his groomsmen. I told them they looked FAB and “oh by the way, where did you get your tuxes… because, again, you guys looks soooo great…”

The groom,  my then future brother-in-law, was on to me, demanding to know, “What’s wrong? NO. TELL ME. “

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it… I mean, I just wanted to say… um, you just look so handsome. See ya!” (dial, dial, dial, dial)

I ended up calling Al’s Formalwear, which handled the tux rentals for my wedding almost six years ago. The  second someone picked up, I started sputtering words like… “Son’s tux. Missing…”, “Sister, down aisle. Hour fifteen…”, “Will stab with stillettos…”, “PLEASE HELP!!!”

They magically found a tux in his size. I paid for it sight unseen over the phone just as Mike arrived at the shop with a half-dressed Scout and a sleeping Lou. They had the pants ready for Scout to literally hop into as soon as they arrived. A few adjustments later, Mike and the kids were on their way to the chapel, making it Just. In. Time.

What Al’s Formalwear failed to mention over the phone was they were already CLOSED at the time. Someone just happened to be in the store when I called. My sister’s wedding party didn’t even get their tuxs from them and they took care of me anyway.

Now, that is customer service!

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Overall, both of my children did GREAT! They partied like rock stars, just as I knew they would. The next day both were wiped out, as were we all. I would call that a success!

Now, it’s your turn to share YOUR best wedding day survival tip.

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