Recently my baby daddy and I decided to get married. We sort of stumbled upon the idea, together, and decided. A ring followed. And considering the circumstance (we have a 7 month old baby), and considering we have both been married and divorced, and considering US, it seems logical there would be a simple civil ceremony or elopement and it would be called a day.
I never thought that I had the “bride gene.” I was married briefly when I was 19, an impulsive trip to Reno and a cheesy wedding chapel that I considered equal parts hilarious and punk rock resulted in 3 years together and a swift divorce that I never looked back on. Not once. Marriage, and especially a wedding, did not enter my realm of thinking again. At 34 years old with quite a bit of solitary travel under my belt, a career and more single than coupled years in my adulthood, being a bride wasn’t on my list. At 34 years old, let’s just say a woman thinks she knows herself. I was never one of those girls that dreamt of the big white dress. Not ever.
Cut to 35 and here I am, obsessively combing ebay for used and custom made (from China!) dresses, buying every 70’s lace dress I come across in thrift stores, ordering not one but 2 gowns from modcloth only to send them back with a guilty conscience. Hours are spent on pinterest looking up DIY “rustic” wedding ideas. A lawn has been put in in the backyard. Tables are being built. My dining room table is covered in silk flowers and terra cotta pots and lace ribbon. Caterers have been contacted. Much to my surprise, I am uber bride.
The devil is in the details. Getting married at home is no less stressful, probably more so than at another location. Josh and I will pull it all together at the last minute, I am sure. We’ll be pulling the last weeds and hammering the last nails at 2am the night before. But the dress. The dress is really keeping me up nights. There are 1-2-3-4-5 white dresses hanging in my closet. And yesterday I broke down and ordered my absolute dream dress from BHLDN, for way, way, way too much money for an unemployed, stay at home mommy to be spending. On anything. I will probably end up sending it back for this reason. But oh! The bride gene. Alive and well in the hearts and minds of the most age-d, cynical of ladies.