{"id":234,"date":"2006-02-08T23:03:15","date_gmt":"2006-02-09T05:03:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/?p=234"},"modified":"2006-02-09T00:29:14","modified_gmt":"2006-02-09T06:29:14","slug":"wedding-bell-blisters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/2006\/02\/08\/wedding-bell-blisters\/","title":{"rendered":"Wedding Bell Blisters"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>My only girl cousin is getting married in less than two months. She is taking the whole wedding planning event a lot better than I did. She is excited and eager and wants it to be the fantasy that all us girls are raised to believe it should be. Much to my mother&#8217;s dismay, I dealt with it by hiding and arguing a lot. Don&#8217;t get me wrong, I was thrilled to be marrying my husband \u2014 it wasn&#8217;t the union I was concerned about as much as the &#8220;event&#8221; planned around it. Somehow the idea of a wedding never made me glow with passion or teeter with girlish excitement. It actually had quite an adverse reaction. However, I am a girl whose parents are, for the most part, rather catholic and uber-traditional. Scratch that \u2014 my dad offered me a rather large chunk of money to elope to Las Vegas but it would have, truly, been the death of my mother. She and my father eloped at the tender ages of 18 &#038; 19, never even had so much as a celebration dinner and, thus, had been planning her \u2014 er \u2014 I mean <em>my<\/em> wedding since the day I was born. She wanted each guest to have little bells to ring, I said no. I wanted to dance out of the church to Pat Benatar&#8217;s &#8220;<a href=\"http:\/\/phobos.apple.com\/WebObjects\/MZStore.woa\/wa\/viewAlbum?p=73230242&#038;i=73230195&#038;s=143441\">Love is a Battlefield<\/a>&#8221; <a href=\"http:\/\/phobos.apple.com\/WebObjects\/MZStore.woa\/wa\/viewAlbum?p=73230242&#038;i=73230195&#038;s=143441\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"61\" height=\"15\" alt=\"Love Is a Battlefield\" src=\"http:\/\/ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net\/images\/badgeitunes61x15dark.gif\" \/><\/a> just like they dance out of the bar and down the street in the video shaking their shoulders and squinting their eyes like they meant business, <em>she<\/em> said no. We just didn&#8217;t see eye to eye on anything. I eventually just reliquished most control and made ammends where I could. Her porcelain, generic groom and bride wedding cake topper was sneakily traded for a golden male roller skating trophy figure and a female buddhist deity named Tara. We made &#8220;corrections&#8221; where we could, but ultimately, it ended up being my mom&#8217;s dream come true. And ultimately, that&#8217;s ok. When it is all said and done, the thing I remember most \u2014 after the amazing look on my husband&#8217;s face after they pronounced us husband and wife \u2014 was my mom seeming more proud of her family than ever. She was the mother of the bride and she looked beautiful and all that she had planned, the trimmings and trappings as they say, looked beautiful. It was just as she had meant for it to be, save a few touches courtesy of me. She earned that and I am happy that I could oblige.<\/p>\n<p>For you ladies out there in the midst of planning the biggest day of your, or your mother&#8217;s, life \u2014 there are several <a title=\"wedding resources\" href=\"http:\/\/www.indiebride.com\/press\/wash_times.html\">wedding resources<\/a> to help you through the madness and revelry.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My only girl cousin is getting married in less than two months. She is taking the whole wedding planning event a lot better than I did. She is excited and eager and wants it&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-234","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marriage","category-relationships"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/234","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=234"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/234\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=234"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=234"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.familyresource.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=234"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}