public service announcement
So, if you receive a wedding invitation printed in three languages and two of those languages are Spanish and Farsi be prepared to dance your ass off. Just so you know. I attended such an event just this last weekend. Dear F from medical school married her long time love. The ceremony was a beautiful, heart-rending affair. The party afterward was a serious PARTY. I wore the dress again and was a somewhat underdressed. I should have guessed, of course, but F's family is composed entirely of gorgeous, petite women, dressed for the occasion in marvelous floor length formal gowns, and dapper men, decked out in tuxedos. Aside from feeling like a slightly frumpy (through no fault of my own) Amazon, I had a marvelous time. After dancing, after dinner, but before more dancing, there was... the chocolate fountain. I had heard marvelous stories of these inventions but had never beheld one in the flesh, if you will. A thing of beauty.
What was also remarkable about this event is that it was in Southern California. I flew down a few hours before the wedding...sans bebe! I know. After all the hand wringing and wailing of last week over leaving little G for 3 hours, I up and leave for nearly 24. Actually, I almost didn't go about 200 times, but M was so steadfastly confident. "You should go. We'll be fine," he repeated at least 500 times. And you know what? I went and they were. Fine, I mean. I expected to hear a horror story of sleepless night and endless crying when I called on Sunday morning before my flight home. But no. G had a great night. Woke up twice and fell back to sleep. They had a great time. I was thrilled and just a little hurt. I mean, I leave and it's like nobody noticed. Ha. I am sick. But what a wonderful thing, eh? Daddy did so great. Baby did so great. Momma pumped her boobs in the Ramada and felt somewhat bovine (esp. beside svelte relations and following excess wading in glorious fountain of chocolate), but she did great, too.
And this morning, I dropped G at daycare for a half day. No crying on drop off. A telephone call from DF, no crying before his nap, oh and by the way he's still asleep. No crying at pick up. Q was just picking him up out of the highchair. Yay! Not that everything is going to be perfect and unruffled from here on out, but it's very encouraging to have a good day!
What was also remarkable about this event is that it was in Southern California. I flew down a few hours before the wedding...sans bebe! I know. After all the hand wringing and wailing of last week over leaving little G for 3 hours, I up and leave for nearly 24. Actually, I almost didn't go about 200 times, but M was so steadfastly confident. "You should go. We'll be fine," he repeated at least 500 times. And you know what? I went and they were. Fine, I mean. I expected to hear a horror story of sleepless night and endless crying when I called on Sunday morning before my flight home. But no. G had a great night. Woke up twice and fell back to sleep. They had a great time. I was thrilled and just a little hurt. I mean, I leave and it's like nobody noticed. Ha. I am sick. But what a wonderful thing, eh? Daddy did so great. Baby did so great. Momma pumped her boobs in the Ramada and felt somewhat bovine (esp. beside svelte relations and following excess wading in glorious fountain of chocolate), but she did great, too.
And this morning, I dropped G at daycare for a half day. No crying on drop off. A telephone call from DF, no crying before his nap, oh and by the way he's still asleep. No crying at pick up. Q was just picking him up out of the highchair. Yay! Not that everything is going to be perfect and unruffled from here on out, but it's very encouraging to have a good day!
posted by cmm at 2:42 PM
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