There Will Be Blood

Yesterday I went for my first dress fitting with the seamstress.

 

Her name is Karen and she's about 60.

 

Midway through pinning my dress Karen reeled back and told me not to panic.

 

"It's just a little blood, and it's my blood, so don't worry.  I'll be right back."

 

I'm sorry?...What did you just say?  Blood?  Blood on my house payment priced never-before-worn wedding gown?

 

Oh, but it's not my blood so that's good news.

 

NOT!

 

I don't care who's blood it is get it off!!!!

 

Karen came back with a little wet paper towel and began to scrub at the stain.

I stayed focused on my happy place and tried to imagine plan B.

 

Walking down the aisle in a wetsuit?  That would be funny. 

Maybe I could borrow my mom's old gown.  No - the cat had kittens on it a few years ago.  It's already been ruined by cat blood. 

Poor cat just wanted something that smelled like her favorite person.

Now my mom has no wedding dress to try to pass on.

 

As I was trying to figure out how not to be on the 5 o'clock news ("Tonight at 5, bride-to-be chokes seamstress at local bridal shop..."), Karen finished her scrubbing and told me "all gone!"

 

Sure enough, I looked back and saw nothing but a small wet spot on the satin.

 

"Did you know that if you get your own blood on something, your own saliva can always get it out?" she asked me.

 

No, Karen.  No I did not know that. 

 

If only the cat had known too.

Skillful Crafts With Sarah and Chris

This weekend Chris and I tried our hands at some painting, gluing, assembling and stamping.

We've yet to do anything by hand for this wedding and we figured, how hard can it be?

The first project was fabric boards for photos during the cocktail hour.

My mom and I started by scouting out fabric at a store down on Harry Hines. With so many great fabrics, it was hard to choose.


Then it was on to gluing the fabric to the boards - seemingly an easy task, but alas, canvasing ain't easy.

Then we moved on to painting and assembling easels for the boards to rest on.




Also not easy.

But we did it!





And then, just when most normal people would take a break, we started stamping things.

You guessed it...not easy.

It's really a good thing we've contracted out the rest of the wedding details to professionals.

Today We Visit Emily

My sister recently completed her first month of employment at the corporate headquarters of JCPenney.
She is in the pricing division and no she does not have a pricing gun.

She has her own window-facing cubicle, her own inbox, her own meager supply of 10 vacation days and her own early commute to work.

On Wednesday we got the formal tour of her new office. It's niiiiccceeee...

We also got to meet her boss who said we should be very proud of her. (We being her mom, dad and sister...all who were present, it was like bring your family to work day!)

So proud of you little one!

Through Sickness

Yesterday Chris got sick.

No.

Yesterday Chris got really sick.

I brought him supplies around 10am, but after checking back at noon he'd only gotten worse.

I made an emergency doctor's appointment with my doctor. The doc tested Chris up one side and down the other then treated the boy to a stinging shot in his butt.

When we got home I washed his dishes, disinfected the apartment, did his laundry, gave him his meds, held the trashcan whilst he got sick in it, kept a cool towel on his head, then unrolled a sleeping bag and tried to get some sleep on the floor beside his bed.

He asked me today how I felt seeing him that way. The smell, the look, the weakness and delirium...how did I feel having to handle all that?

I had to admit...

I didn't even notice it.

It's like my conscious mind looked right past all the potentially yicky stuff and just took care of business.

Love is blind; maybe to reason, but definitely to the stench of sick.

I remember being grossed out when my mom would reach her hand into the disposal in the kitchen sink and pull out food and junk and throw it in the trash. I would groan "Grrrooossss mooommm...how can you dooooo that?!"

She told me that one day when I was mature enough to reach my hand in there myself, I would be mature enough to have my own children.

I think collecting and throwing out my fiance's "used" sick bag without feeling the least big squimish qualifies me to enter into the "through sickness" part of the marriage gig.

Yep.

Through sickness and in health.