Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Wallowing―It’s Not Just For Pigs

As you may or may not be aware (and if you aren’t, you must have been living deep in a swamp in the rainforest of Ecuador) I am the Duchess, the Baroness, and the Princess of all things guilt. And if that guilt is even remotely related to my role as mother, I am the all-time Ultimate Queen Of Guilt. I also tend to be a bit of a helicopter mom/wife/daughter/tour director (take your pick). Actually, if I’m being totally honest, I have an obsessive need to be in control of most e • v • e • r • y thing. Yeah, yeah….go ahead. Shake your head slowly and say it ….“poor, poor Dean”.

Since my cryptic post about the wedding, I haven’t written anything else because I have been busy wallowing in mother guilt. I have been tormenting myself with “what if I would have” and “I should have” and “dang it, why didn’t I!?” Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20, and even though I sorta-kinda know in my head that there wasn’t much I could have done at the time, I still believe in my heart I should have been able to take control and make Abby and Jorge’s wedding ceremony perfect. Me. I should have been that person who thinks quickly on their feet. That person who realizes immediately something’s not right, springs into action and fixes everything before anybody else realizes there’s a problem. But I wasn’t. And I didn’t. Six days after the wedding, as I was (still) whining about my failure to “fix it” to my sister, she looked me in the eye, took a breath and said, in that special way only a loving sister can, “Cathy. Abby is fine. Get over it!”

It is now 18 days past the wedding and I’ve finally decided it’s time to take her advice. It’s time to move on and focus on the other parts of the wedding that WERE awesome and fun and perfect. Such as “Ryan aka MacGyver Comes to the Rescue”. Who says you need a special button hook specifically designed for the tiny covered buttons on a wedding dress? ... or ... “How To Drink Whiskey While Salsa Dancing Without Spilling (much) On Your Partner.” And we’re not talking small shot glasses here. We’re talkin’ tumblers.  ... or ... “Adventures in the Beauty Salon.” I’ll bet you didn’t know that asking in Spanish for a “simple and elegant” hairstyle translates to “a hairstyle coated with so much lacquer you can bounce a bowling ball off your head and not feel it.”

I hope to soon regale you with stories and photos of all of our adventures and I promise that from now on, all my guilt and obsessing will be kept completely in my head—anything wedding related anyway. I make no promises about any future events I am unable to control.

You didn’t really think I’d transformed myself from a guilt-ridden control freak to a relatively “normal” person that quickly did you?◦


Deb said...

You are a you sister said - let it go hon. As I remember - you do not own anything that even looks like Superman or his cape- and to do it in Spanish? They'd have sent the men in the white coats woman. It was a totally beautiful wedding - and when I saw - wallowing - all I could think of was that you almost died in the quicksand in the Amazon... Deep breath - you are competing with me on the Queen of Guilt... It ain't over yet - Hugs - love you - can't wait for more pics and blogs... Deb

Art Elser said...

Obviously you didn't mention one of the most important flaws in the whole wedding. They left the cape off the Mother-of-the-Bride dress, as well as the large red S on the bodice. And you were without your cryptonite, so how could you have done anything.

And the magic words you normally speak are in English, and in Ecuador you must speak them in Spanish. So the Universe was working overtime against you.


Amber said...

I have to admit, it was a nice break from work when you told us about the unfortunate events from the wedding. I don't think that big of a crowd has gathered to hear a story since I've worked there. And, you are a great story teller!