Our Trip, Part II

Saturday night, I should have also mentioned, was the “rehearsal.” This is when I learned that Randy’s younger sister became a “minister” online and was going to be “running” the “ceremony” the next day. Rehearsal consisted of some brief discussions about what was going to happen the next day, with a lot of back and forth, and no real consensus. Then my SIL went off to look up some stuff online about what you’re supposed to say at weddings.


OK, I’ll comment. 🙂

First, this fact was kept from us because the assumption was that we would not come if we knew. Randy was incensed at that suggestion, since it’s his sister and of course he’d be there.

As a minister’s kid, I personally REALLY REALLY disagree with the Go Get Your Minister’s License Online thing, for so, so many reasons. I wholeheartedly believe that the Bible commissions each of us Believers into ministry. I also wholeheartedly believe that one becomes a minister after being called to it by God. NOT after a brief background check and a valid Mastercard. Also, a wedding ceremony is in fact a worship service that celebrates the establishment of a covenant relationship among man, woman, and God. (if you’re a Christian, which everyone involved here identifies themselves as.) I would not have willingly attended a wedding ceremony that was not going to take that seriously. It is not a joke. It is not a party. It is not something to look up on the internet the night before. It is worship. To not give worship the respect it deserves seems so… not Christian. I’m having trouble with the right words here, but this whole thing just sits very wrong with me.

At one point, my SIL remarked that she thought she ought to speak for at least a brief minute, because don’t pastors usually talk for a bit? I had really restricted myself to noncommittal “oh” and “hm” until that point, but I had to speak up with, “yes, it’s called a homily. They usually deliver a homily. Which is based on one or two relevant passages of scripture.”

I will also note that one thing people tend to overlook is the organizational role that a minister plays. A minister runs the show, so to speak. He (or she) runs a smooth rehearsal so that everyone knows what to expect. He (or she) is experienced at running services, keeps the congregation involved, works in a particular order that makes sense, and keeps everything running smoothly. Without that necessary organization, you end up with kind of a mumbling random mess.

And a mumbling random mess is really doing a disservice to your guests.

The whole thing really upset me. And, yeah, I would have gone anyway, out of respect for my husband.

Anyway, so Sunday, it was decreed that the boys and girls had to be separated again. So off they went to some other house and we stayed at my SIL’s house. I didn’t want to get dressed too early and have Genna wipe snot all over my nice clothes (moms of small kids, I know you know what I’m talking about here) and I was going to dress Genna at the church, so we spent several hours wandering around the house, not touching anything. I played the piano a bit. Tried to fix her hair (no dice).

I drove several people to the church, and my two SILs went in the other car. Everyone arrived at the same time. As we arrived, Randy called the Bride. The Bride’s son had lost his music, they couldn’t find it, and Randy thought maybe she would still be at the house and could see if it was there, or maybe she’d know where it was. (because it was her son, and because she had gotten all of that stuff ready the night before.) She chose to literally scream at him that it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t taking responsibility, he needed to take charge for once and take care of it. the fawning crowd all giggled at how clever she was. I walked as slowly as I could, then ended up dropping off Genna’s dress in the bridal room and leaving. A confrontation a few minutes later with my MIL reinforced my decision to have some alone time. I hate when I feel pressured by my husband’s family to participate in bashing, making fun of, or otherwise disrespecting him.

Then I was faced with the problem of Genna wanting to nap but the wedding ceremony getting ready to start. And we still didn’t know when the kids were to walk down the asile, where they were to go, etc. Argh. (they were flower girl and ring bearer.) I ended up just kind of shoving them out there and they did pretty good until they hit the stairs – nobody told me there were stairs! – and then Genna stumbled, Wally didn’t know what to do, and Genna burst into tears because she couldn’t find Mommy. Mommy meanwhile was realizing that there was NO WAY to get down to the kids without running down the asile herself. So that’s what I did. Screw the ceremony, my baby was crying!

I had wanted to rehearse the Walking Down the Asile thing beforehand, but when we got to the church, guests were mingling in the same place where the ceremony was going to be, and there was no chance practice. So whatever.

I stood in the back with the kids and couldn’t hear a single bit of the ceremony, except Randy singing. (Because he’s got a booming voice.) But I did take the opportunity to snap lots of cute pics of my children.

Genna doing the Opposite Flower Girl thing
Flower Girl
Flower Girl and Ring Bearer
Flower Girl

Genna fell asleep shortly after the ceremony, and was in the MT for all of the formal pictures. I doubt that’s what my sister in law wanted, but I don’t know what else I could have done. They could have just left her/me out, I wouldn’t have cared.

This is, of course, nursing at the wedding. Have boobs, will travel.

We snuck out of the reception early. Not only were my two kids completely over the whole thing (it was a very adult-oriented reception), but we wanted to get to Heart Attack Grill before they closed. Priorities, people!


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