Alive and Kicking...

The day has dawned cold and hard. Like a taskmaster in a fluffy meringue. As The Wedding approaches, I am busy nearly all the waking hours of every day.

But wait a minute!" I think to myself, "I got most of The Wedding shmear done within the first two months! How can I be so occupied?" I'll tell ya' how; All areas in my life have converged at precisely the same moment. Picture colliding sections of the Bermuda Triangle, if you will.

1) I have to change my housing situation.

I also have to sell off all my furniture or simply donate it to charity. MF's house is almost fully furnished. None of the stuff I own "goes" or is needed. Some pieces (like the cheap bed I bought when a poor college student) must simply be tossed out.

Anything (and that ain't much) that MF's home lacks will be supplied by choices we make together. (Though he is quite fond of springing furniture on me, taking me unawares. "Oh, look what the UPS man brought! Do you like it?" Thankfully he was blessed with good taste, else this marriage wouldn't come off nearly as swell.)

I must cull through all my brick-a-brack, tossing what simply won't jibe and making tough decisions about whether or not my sister will believe me when I say "it got lost in the move" as a way of excuse-ing off her poor taste in Christmas presents.

Many things are duplicates. This is mostly kitchen equipment. MF and I are both avid chefs and we've collected quite a bit of swag over the years at Target and Sur La Table. Still, one only needs so many ladles and rusted balloon whisks. So, off to the charities they go!

I'm a little scared of living with someone else, to be quite honest. I've lived alone since before I graduated college. MF's been living by himself for quite awhile as well. Both of us have got along quite successfully. We're apt to want our space and privacy. Hard times may befall us when we do start inhabiting the same space 24/7.

I realize our identities will no longer be plural, but singular in the eyes of God. I realize he and I both have been working very hard to make his house our home. I realize we both have exceptional taste and regard for the other person's preferences and needs. I realize he and I are both usually quite agreeable and easy to please. But... When I want some peace-and-damned-quiet to read a book and drink some tea; When he can't sleep because there's someone tossing and turning beside him; When I want to have the house to myself all night; When he wants to be left alone for several hours to watch television in his boxers...

But that is what we must do when we marry. We must put away our selfishness and regard our spouse as equal -- with equal share, equal needs, and equal value. I truly think that's where many marriages go wrong. One spouse or the other has saved too much regard for themselves, forgetting to leave it at the altar when they promise to "forsake all others". They didn't think they had to forsake themselves as well.

I do have my own room in the house specially laid out for me, though. It's the sunroom. Plum colored walls, lots of windows, Asian lamps, a fountain/waterfall, lots of gauzy draperies. And that's good. I'm a spoiled little Queenie in that regard. My sister just retreats to the garage.

2) Other than running 'round, getting materials ordered, flowers arranged, dresses altered, pictures taken, name changed, invitations sent, parties arranged, rings sized, shoes picked up, cakes finalized, archways ordered, tulle cut, and Pastors conferenced, I must also make plans for all the various and sundry guests who will (surprise!) be arriving in short order.

Me: "WHO accepted our invitation?"
Mom: "Uncle So-and-So from Guadalajara. You remember!"
Me: "Mom, I haven't seen him since I was eight. I'm honored that he wants to come, but..."

*He didn't come to my sister's wedding. Why now? Sure, we invited him -- as a courtesy. I didn't think he would actually accept.*

I have to remember to tell my Mom to tell these out of town guests (a risky proposition at the outset) that they must reserve their rooms in our wedding block or they won't get the discount rate. They must do it soon. The hotel will only hold this block until the middle of September. I must also remember to tell MF this (with decidedly better results).

All the while, I have been reassured that the hotel will supply transportation to and from the airport at no charge. I'm thinking in the back of my mind that this cannot be so easy. That something simply must go wrong in this scenario. There's no way my wedding guests could be so pampered sans catastrophe. No. Way.

3) Work is cranked waaaay up.

I work for an entrepreneur who owns a corporation that has literally tripled in size since I started five years ago. Boss wants me to triple output as well... Without any more support at present. He knows I'm getting married soon. He knows I'm going on my honeymoon. He knows I'm not staying with the company for five more years as my main objective is "wife and mother" not "office manager par excellence".

Do I get a pass? Nope.

4) Birthday Season is in high gear.

The ringing in of Birthday Season officially starts in August with my niece, Jade. She turns two on Sunday. A cute and curly, giggling, tickled two, I might add. What an adorable child. If she were a dessert, she would surely be the lightest and frilliest fluff cake with sugar dripping from all angles, a musical carousel perched atop the trellises of candied roses. Yes, that cute.

But birthday season only starts with baby Jadie. It ends in May. Until then, there are generally about two birthdays each month. In my neck of the woods, birthdays do not pass lightly -- say, with a card and a handshake or solid congratulatory clap on the back. No, birthdays simply must involve parties, cake, and eating mass quantities. The denouement? Birthday Guy or Gal sitting in a pile of presents, opening and *cheesing* for at least three different cameras per. In short, taxing on the waistline as well as the pocketbook. Get the drift?

5) If someone doesn't break us up, my mother may soon die a very unnatural death.

My mother and I have always had a torrid relationship. According to my father, I figured out when I was around 8 or so that I was smarter and more rational than she. For her turn, she acknowledged this (only to herself, understand) that the jig was up, and it's been a power struggle ever since.

It's strange how I could have so much worry and regard for someone so childish and immature.

The long and short of it? She is one of those individuals who wants praise for who she seems to be rather than who she is. She wants to be well thought of, highly regarded and made the gleaming and shiny center of the universe. She does as little work as possible to earn this praise. She is however, very, very skilled at getting others to labor for her (via manipulation and temper tantrums) and then swooping in to take the aforementioned credit.

Case in point: When my paternal grandmother was ill just before her death, my father went to visit her every day in the nursing home. This incensed my mother. She and my grandmother had had a falling out several years before due to my grandmother's rather sharp and pointed tongue. I loved my grandmother more than just about anyone else on planet earth -- still do. What she said to my mother was pointed and sharp. It was also true and well deserved. My mother, of course, never forgave her.

When it looked as if my grandmother were going to pass away, the family huddled and rallied the way all families do. My mother, privately, had little regard for this passing. She had been to visit my grandmother only a handful of times during her yearlong stay in the nursing facility. I went up as often as I could to do her nails for her and the rest of the family were fairly frequent, with my father by far the most diligent.

However, when my grandmother actually did pass, it was no secret to anyone who knew my mother. Condolence letters, flowers and phone calls rained in for poor mom at the loss of her beloved mother-in-law. Ploy #3248413-A had succeeded. She was perceived by others as being dutiful, doting and deserving sympathy.

She also has a habit of footing bills as a show of generosity, then mentally demanding recompense for her public display. She keeps score in all areas and holds on irrevocably to perceived wrongs, all the while never admitting what she's doing. She flies off the handle at the smallest things and never tells anyone what she's feeling (unless it's a pity play for sympathy). She cannot hold honest and constructive dialogue about any situation (in which there is even an implication of her fault) with the slightest degree of authenticity. She has never accepted blame or apologized for anything (and I mean that) when she has been in error and the stakes were even moderately high.

But I love her. She's my mother. And I try mightily not to lose my temper with her. (Rarely a success.) She's helped me with many things in regard to The Wedding. Money, addressing save the date cards, hosting the bridal shower, etc.. Yet with closer examination, I realize that most of the things she's done have been for show, and always on her terms. And many of them she cannot demand special credit for.

The bride's family is supposed to pay for the wedding and plan the reception. She has paid 65%. MF and I, and our friends and extended families are picking up the rest. Add to that the fact that I have planned every detail except the honeymoon (MF's department). But she wants credit. She has no problem waving our engagement photos under the noses of everyone she knows as well as announcing it in three -- yes, THREE -- newspapers. But she didn't arrange the photos or pay for any of them.

Point 1) MF and I registered for our china (which is gorgeous and was marked half price). It happened to come in boxes of 8 place settings each. She promptly bought 2 boxes. So now, MF and I have 16 place setting of china. A nice thought, but... SIXTEEN place settings?! I understand the pattern will likely be discontinued (thus the price slashing) and it would be advisable to rack up, but SIXTEEN?! Could you get the 8 piece box and then one of say, FOUR? Unless we have enough children to found our own baseball team, we will likely never serve SIXTEEN people at any one time.

Yet how do you say, "Thanks, BUT..." ? How? She wanted to be seen and applauded for being generous. Period. She gave no thought to the inconvenience of housing all that china or even whether we would conceivably need it.

Point 2) She bought herself, my sister and me (and thus MF) an extra set of pots and pans. The exact same set she had already bought for my sister and me when we were just getting in our first apartments years ago. It's tough cookware with a lifetime guarantee. It hasn't worn out yet. It hasn't even worn much at all. Now I not only have two large sets of pots and pans to add to MF's kitchen gear, I also have said cookware (with a *lifetime* guarantee) that we NEVER REGISTERED FOR AND DIDN'T ASK FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE. But if I tried to tell her that, there would be hell to pay. Ditto if it disappeared or was replaced by the All Clad pots we actually, I dunno', WANTED.

Point 3) Speaking of things we registered for and wanted, and then of gifts received to the contrary: let's talk about knives. MF and I took a great deal of time and energy (then waited with 'bated breath at the prospect of actually receiving) some excellent Wusthof knives.

Just before the three sets of pots and pans showed up at my mom's house (to be distributed to herself, my sister and then to me), lo and behold (!) three sets of crappy knives showed up, too! *smacking myself in the head* What are the odds?

Odds are, these crap metal blades with plastic handles were a throw-in "gift" with the purchase of a set of pots and pans. The pots and pans themselves were most likely "buy-one-get-one-free". She received hers and promptly displayed them on her kitchen counter. She asked me what I thought of them. I said they were "nice". I then went in to some detail about the excellent knives MF and I had registered for. She frowned.

"Well, don't buy any knives. I've got that covered for you."

Now that I have received this lovely gift (complete with faux wood storage block), what does she hold over my head? That the knives were (worth?) $800 and the pots and pans are for "my new home".

Now... *sigh* I know she does well (Mom holds the purse strings, my father was forced into semi retirement from two strokes) but I doubt -- DOUBT -- that she could afford to purchase $2400 dollars worth of knives and $3600 dollars worth of pots and pans on a whim. Yeah, HIGHLY unlikely. I have a complete set of Christmas dishes with cheesy little polar bears all over them from the same sort of thought process.

Point 4) Did I mention that she threw me a bridal shower? It was fun. It was interesting. It was neat and festive. We went shopping for supplies together... because she had somehow decided I should be the one to plan and execute my own bridal shower. We came up with a theme and then got the tablecloths, plates, and serving wear from a party store. We even went and bought the food together. The night before my own bridal shower, I was at her house until 10 p.m. decorating and preparing food right alongside my sister. For my own bridal shower. Mine. It was fun to shop and decorate, but it would have been more fun if it was a party for someone else. Can I slack off for five minutes please? At my OWN DAMNED BRIDAL SHOWER? She even wanted to know if I could get there early to help prepare before the guests arrived. Guess what I said?

Here's the pickle: If I even broach the subject of any displeasure, she'll say nothing, slam doors and throw things, walk out in a huff and squeal away in her SUV without telling anyone where she's going or when she'll be back. When she does return, it will be with an SUV laden with bulk food bought at a warehouse club which my parents will never -- EVER -- eat, and with an attitude to boot. She will then commence to make my Father's life a living hell for the next five days regardless of the fact that he is sick and has a bad back. When the smoke finally does clear, she'll not take one iota of responsibility for her childish behavior or even admit that there was ever a conflict in the first place.

Question for reflection and review: What do I do with this nutcase? MF's cabinets are nearly buckling from the weight of crap we don't need and that I can't get her to stop buying for us. When I try, I get the silent treatment for weeks and my Dad gets abuse and cursing. MF says to ignore it, she just wants attention. I'm starting to think he's right.

6) High school reunion: 1 week and counting

Well score one for the home team! I was in the tag office last Monday and spotted a former classmate in line. She wore no ring (not a big deal, I'm a late marrier myself), had gained a considerable amount of weight, was dressed shabbily, had at least one visible tattoo and sounded like a total hick. She also had no clue who I was. My heart was pounding having to stand five feet away under what I thought was close scrutiny, but I left feeling immensely better about the whole "reunion" thing.

She had, after all, been homecoming queen our junior year.

*Yeah, I'm totally winning.*

Sooooooo... let's review:

I'm busy all the time moving paraphernalia into MF's house and thinking reflectively about marriage; I have a thousand things to do and accomplish for what will most likely be the biggest day of my life; I'm working my ass off; I have a birthday party to go to tomorrow where my mother will not be speaking to me; my high school reunion is one week away.

*Exhale*

I miss you all and hope you're doing well. But understand that if I haven't blogged lately, it's likely because I can't pull myself out of the Bermuda Triangle (or is it octagon?) long enough.

I'll get back to you as soon as I can.