The past few weeks have been very busy around our house. Ben was working on a massive deal at work (Energizer bought SC Johnson), which meant I was a mostly-single parent for a few weeks, even more so than while we were in London. It was not fun for any of us, and we're all really looking forward to having a weekend alone together again starting this Friday.
But more importantly, we were busy because my little sister got married on Saturday! To be honest, I didn't have to do all that much, even though I was the Matron of Honor (seriously, couldn't they just call all of us "maids"? "Matron" is so, so awful!). Nonna had pretty much everything covered, and two of Rachel's friends took care of the bachelorette party. But even just the packing for a long weekend and taking the train to Nonna and Pops' with Jack on Thursday morning took a bit of thoughtful planning. On one truly annoying afternoon I was led to believe that Jack's tux wouldn't be here in time and I visited four different grocery stores trying to find exactly the type of natural-fruit raspberry jam that Nonna wanted to use in the wedding cake--which she amazingly and to great results made herself!
All three of us were in the wedding party; Ben was an usher and Jack was one of three ring bearers. Ben helped seat a full church of over 250 people. I managed not to trip while walking down the aisle or to smear my makeup horribly with tears. And Jack did a tremendous job. Jack and I had practiced for a week or so, using finger puppets and Little Tykes people to act out the wedding, and we had picked up a few books about weddings from the library. Thankfully, Rachel and Chad had decided from the start that the children in the wedding should sit with their families during the ceremony instead of standing up front the entire time. That alone took a ton of pressure off.
The night of the rehearsal Jack went up and down the aisle several times without issue. At the actual wedding he seemed a little surprised to see so many people sitting in the pews, which makes sense but is something I would never have thought about. About halfway down the aisle he started peeking into every row, looking for Nonna, who, as mother of the bride, was of course seated in the front row. So it took a little while for Jack to get to the front, but he did it (!) and the whole congregation seemed amused by the process. At the reception someone pointed out that Jack had looked a little like a politician working a ropeline. I cringed slightly, silently hoping he can avoid that fate...
The wedding turned out beautifully. Rachel has terrific style and picked out very flattering bridesmaids' dresses and shoes so cute that I anticipate wearing them at least once a week this summer. The music was jaw-dropping; our former piano teacher played the organ, our cousin Julie's boyfriend brought tears to my eyes during Trumpet Voluntary, and friends of the family played cello and harp during the seating of guests. And Rachel looked stunningly beautiful in her gorgeous dress. Seriously, pictures will express it much better than I could describe it.
Unfortunately since we were all incredibly busy the day of the wedding, we didn't get around to taking any pictures with our camera. The closest I can get to pictures right now is their engagement announcement in my hometown newspaper and their wedding website (see that for one of the worst post-poodle-hair pictures of me ever! Gotta get a new batch of pictures together, Sister!), but I promise that when the photographers have the pictures ready I will post plenty of them here.
Until then, I hope Aunt Rachel and Uncle Chad are having a great time in St. Lucia. Congratulations!
Oh, and in key Jackson girl fashion, the wedding has again overshadowed Uncle Tyler's birthday. I'm by far more guilty of doing that than Rachel, having had two graduations (possibly three--I can't remember when my high school graduation was) within a day of his birthday. And another time I arranged for Tyler to travel to London to see my newborn and had him returning home just hours before he turned 21. Twenty-one doesn't seem quite as impressive after spending a week in a country with a drinking age of 18. So, in rare fashion, here's a birthday shout out to Uncle Tyler for tomorrow. Happy 23!
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