We are in those last few days before the wedding/honeymoon/move, where life suddenly hits warp speed and with every blink, every moment that at one time felt much too far away is suddenly right. there.

Eleven days.

There are lists of things still needing to be done for the wedding. Large, momentous life events that normally occur sporadically throughout one’s lifetime…not exactly within a nine day period.  We close on our house in a week, and orchestration that has yet to occur for our moves looms.  Details both finite and enormous that will surely find themselves worked out before the multiple dates for our various Very Important dates are here star my calendar.  I can be very Pollyanna at a time like this, but I think the correct title at this point is Honey Badger Bride.

So much has ceased to matter, while the issues of importance rise to the surface.

Small, amusing example that has me laughing tonight: The girls selected their own ‘Sisters of Honor’ dresses for the wedding.  As we felt strongly that all six of our children should feel that they have equal roles to fulfill (no Maid of Honor, Flower Girl, Best Man, etc…which would sure have left two to three of our brood out in the cold), we found a title with a wide swath for each side, and (knock on wood) all have been pleased with this.  So the Sisters of Honor did a little shopping on etsy, and settled on a shop that (MIRACLE!) everyone agreed upon.  They oh-so-carefully (and trust me, MUCH THOUGHT went in to this) selected their colors, and we waited for weeks for the dresses to arrive.

#etsyexplosion has become the best way to describe what occurred when I opened the box that arrived last week.  The tulle that took over my living room has, no lie, grown with each passing day, and as my kids were with their dad this past weekend we elected to wait to tentatively introduce these tulle monstrosities to the girls.  Fully expecting anarchy, but smart enough to anticipate Coco’s dependable joyous reaction to anything over-the-top, I am happy to report that 2/3 of our SoH are thrilled to pieces.  Also, THERE’S A LOT OF TULLE FLYING AROUND MY LIVING ROOM.

We still have 1/3 to convince, and I am fully expecting a last minute trip to the mall to find a suitable replacement, should our most opinionated and passionate refuse to look like an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras.  Fingers are crossed that it goes well, but personally, I wouldn’t blame her one bit if she draws a line in the sand.

I feel you, sister.  And I’m not one to fight a battle when it comes to any detail about our day.  The important stuff rises to the top…matching tulle monstrosities are not it.

But what is?

This weekend was Fathers Day weekend, and as most kids from divorced households, my three were with their dad while we enjoyed a weekend with his.

There have been weekends with all six, weekends with just his or mine, weekends with dance recitals and soccer games, visits to my family’s ranch or rare weekends where not much is required of any of us.  Weekends with *just* three are a rare privilege, and for whatever reason this past weekend was one of our best. It may have been THE best, and I’m not sure of the catalyst.

It could have been advice given by his oldest’s therapist, or the fact that it was our first weekend alone with them for a while (undivided attention is magical). Regardless, it was, as quoted by his youngest, the “best day of my whole life”…and I have to agree with her.

At dinner his oldest and I had a chance to really talk. He had my entire focus, and took full advantage of it.  Tough questions were asked, appropriate answers were given, and it was a wonderful feeling to know that the foundation we are working on forming is more than well established.

His middle child, always affectionate, was extra demonstrative this weekend.  More than once I found myself with arms wrapped tight around my middle, his head buried into my side, and we would stand together until he was ready to let go.  My heart would soar each and every time this happened.

His youngest is the one that has been consistently accepting and welcoming.  The girl is a fan of anything and everything girlie, and as a mommy of two girls (and fairly girly myself) it’s very easy to accommodate.  That being said, it’s not easy to share your Dad with not one, but THREE other ladies.  She continues to amaze me with her depth, and the comments she made that weekend helped me feel that she has not been lost in the addition.

I want to protect his childrens’ comments, feelings and statements as much as possible.  But this past weekend was more than affirming, it was empowering, encouraging, and reassuring.

It was, in short, the perfect lead into this two week whirlwind that we find ourselves in.

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