The past couple of weeks has been a barrage of insanity. In the chaotic throes of wedding planning, we’ve launch a counter-attack against tradition.
I’m holding strong to the “I don’t want to spend a fortune” mentality that I claimed at the start of this madness. Still – the costs of each little idea continued to pile up on paper until we both just said “fuck it.”
We’d gone in circles since November around a wedding date. First, it was April 13. Then, maybe July. Then, September 22. Then, maybe July again. For a short stretch, it was June, July or August. We were both fed up.
I had found a venue – a park pavilion near our home – which seemed absolutely perfect right up until we realized that you couldn’t have beer or wine on the property. The search continued to find another – which I achieved – but in the middle of a series of obnoxious snow storms, we haven’t had a chance to actually tour it.
Still, fuck it.
Flying partially blind (let’s be honest, I did a drive by), we agreed to Sunday, May 5 as the official reception day and leapt into the reservation process.
May 5. That’s 69 days from now.
With a date for the reception, we quickly booked some delicious BBQ catering through a close friend. Food – check.
Mom and I stopped into HyVee to consider some of their food, cake and flower options. Progress is progress.
Last weekend, we ran around to a few bridal shops looking for the godforsaken dress – and this might just be where I start to lose my shit. That’s another story all together though.
In the moment, I’m so grateful for us. I’m grateful for the people we’re surrounded by and how much they want to help. But, as stressful as this is, I’m grateful that Aaron and I are still laughing at it. I’m grateful that our decision making process is “how cheap is it? do we care? does it matter? then no.” I’m so very very lucky to have someone by my side that, most days, is on the exact same page. I’m beyond fortunate that he listens to me panic and even more so that he calmly reminds me of why most of the things never mattered in the first place.
My grandma asked me early on about scheduling our “marriage classes.” I still giggle at that idea. He and I spent a very long time looking for each other. In our short time together, we’ve been through some shit. We’ve pushed the brinks of stress and know we’ll push them farther. In it all – we’re solid.
I guess I’m excited, finally. I’m excited this is moving. I’m even more excited that it’s moving quickly. And, when all is said and done, we’re getting fucking married the way we wanted to from day 1.
I love this man.