Rehearsal

With my vast knowledge of wedding rehearsals—having been in a few, having watched tons of Hallmark weddings, and hello, romance writer—I feel I know how they work. So, when we assembled at the venue for Darcy and Oleg's rehearsal, I expected Reverend Sharon to lead it. 

So did she. 

Then again, my past experiences did not include a wedding planner.

I wasn't a fan. 

In her defense, and I didn't find this out until much later after the damage was done, she had a small window of time. Her child was performing or getting an award or some such crucial event, and she needed to be in a different county, which meant rush hour on a Friday afternoon. No one conveyed this to the mother of the bride. 

Who would've suggested a different time/day for said rehearsal.

We met for the first time that day. It was my first time seeing the venue in person, having only viewed it via FaceTime. I had a picture of Darcy at the age of three in a wedding dress that I wanted to incorporate into the wedding. Somewhere. It was too cute not to, and I'd used the picture at her bridal shower.

The wedding planner was unhelpful.

She sneered in disdain while still FINISHING THE TABLE DECORATIONS and shrugged. 

I decided that I didn't like her.

Lady, my baby, my precious daughter, is about to embark on the rest of her life AWAY FROM ME. I have spent twenty-plus years shoving obstacles out of the way so she can survive. I am hanging on by a thread here. FIND A WAY TO USE THIS DAMN PICTURE.

I didn't say it, but I thought it. Shouldn't wedding planners, especially those with children, understand that? Shouldn't they act accordingly? Hold hands with the parents? Ease them into everything?

Maybe if we had met beforehand...

People were late. I held it together, feeling vulnerable and sniffly. Once everyone arrived, Ms. Wedding Planner started things off at the altar. Huh?

Who starts a rehearsal in the middle? I made an under-the-breath remark, thinking we should know where to start, and the bride told me to stuff it. We took our places. Reverend Sharon started her sermon. Ms. Wedding Planner said we didn't need to hear it. She rearranged people and told us what to do, not knowing what the hell the couple was doing, and my blood went from a simmer to a boil. 

Sharon sat down with the bride and groom and went through the ceremony from beginning to end weeks ago. She knew the drill and wanted to go through it from beginning to end, simplify a few details, and answer some questions. Ms. Wedding Planner didn't care. Sharon and I exchanged looks that said everything we couldn't say out loud.

WTF?

The sun beat ruthlessly down on us. Some of us moved to a shaded area while Darcy explained the PLAN to Ms. Wedding Planner. The woman wiggled her fingers at us in the shade, hurrying us along as if she had someplace to be.

Oh, she did.

Only I didn't know this.

Her frustration and irritation pissed me off. When she finally announced that was it and that she had to be off, Sharon and I exchanged a relieved look, and before Ms. Wedding Planner was out the door, Sharon had us lined up to start from the beginning. 

We ran through the rehearsal twice. It was silly, and there was laughter. Like a rehearsal should be.

Until the bride disagreed with her mother, Ms. Wedding Planner had said the parents should stay seated and not walk back down the aisle after the marriage. I said I was walking back down the aisle.

The bride got snippy, and I got mad. Madison tried negotiating peace, but Darcy sniped at her. The entire wedding party stared at all three of us. I did not want to cry, but I was barely hanging on at this point, and would've preferred to discuss my feelings off to the side with the bride and groom.

That didn't happen as the bride continued telling me that the Wedding Planner...

Me: "I don't care. What I do care about is coming back down this aisle so that your father and I, as well as Oleg's mother and grandmother, can hug our children and congratulate them in the privacy of this area."

I may have choked up. It wasn't my finest moment.

The bride gave in, not too willingly, which hurt my feelings, but we were now running late to get ready for the rehearsal dinner, so I sat down in the only chair available (since nothing was ready for the reception) and pouted.

Sharon, who knows me like the back of her hand, laid her hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay.

I said no. I stood up and followed my husband to the car, where we then headed back to shower and get ready for the next phase. I don't think I spoke one word the entire drive, my mind remembering bringing Darcy into the world and then flashing through our time together piece by piece, moment by moment.

Finalizing

We had the final fit for Darcy's dress. I met her at the shop and noted how to tuck her in, tie her up, and pin the train in 459,875 hidden buttons. I took photos. 

Two days ago, I walked into Ulta and let an employee use my face as a palette. I walked away with over $300 worth of makeup, something I will not mention to the hubby. (We want him at the wedding and not in the hospital.) 

I stressed about the money for several minutes, hours, and days until I convinced myself that, in the scheme of wedding money spent, it was minor. 

We spent another day filling coffee for the favors and finalizing small details like earrings. Susan and Gabby arrived yesterday. We've hit several places for dinner. More family will be petering in throughout the week.

Things are getting real, folks!

Easter 2024

Oleg's family invited us for Easter. We had a great time with food, games, and an Easter egg hunt. Grammy came with us, but Oleg and Darcy were working. It was relaxing not to host or collaborate with the Easter Bunny.

The egg hunt was indoors and outside, and naturally, like every year, we didn't find all the eggs. That's become a tradition. 

Happy Easter to all who celebrate!

My first book signing

I went to my first book signing yesterday while Darcy had her bachelorette weekend. While she and her bridal party were learning to pole dance, I was selling our anthology and chatting up readers.

It was a four-hour drive south to a reader's library day, but my cohort, Charley, and I had no trouble passing the time. We got there in plenty of time, set up our table, and wandered the room, meeting other authors. Behind us, to our left, was a woman who wrote a book titled The Golfer's Wife. I told her my brother was a golf professional. She asked where, and when I told her, it turned out she, too, was from Indiana.

Hearing that, the author to my left told me he was from Indiana. I wandered over to chat with him, learned he lived near Terre Haute, told him I owned a farm nearby, and discovered he knew my Uncle Cockeye.

Him: "Who didn't know Cockeye?"  

What are the odds?

I returned to our table and found a guy I'd befriended at a local conference. He bought a book, and the three of us chatted. At one point, he thought I said the Spanish word for water when telling him the name of a product.

Me: "I said Awk-quah. How did you hear Ah-qwa?"

He and I argued back and forth on what I had said, all in good fun. Later, we asked him to recommend a place for dinner, and he suggested a restaurant, giving us the street names like we were locals. We reminded him we weren't, but he didn't know the restaurant's name, so he asked another author.

Her: "Aqua."

Charley and I took that as a sign and went there for dinner after the book signing, laughing the entire time. It was 10/10, and we got there for happy hour.

I didn't come out ahead, but I'm enjoying the experience. If you want to support me, email me at cmkerwin@gmail.com, and I'll send you a signed copy of our anthology for $10.

Moving right along with wedding prep

The wedding venue has been chosen. I have not seen it, and it isn't near us, but it's signed and sealed. Darcy wanted an outdoor wedding, and barns are apparently the newest thing here. This venue, a wedding barn on tons of land, is brand new. Their wedding will be the first one here, and the owners sound very accommodating and open to things. It is all-inclusive if you want, including a wedding planner. 

Darcy is going with them for the flowers, appetizers, and venue, but the food is from a local taco food truck that caters. The DJ is a friend of hers from the church youth group and the photographer she found with the help of my photographer niece. 

In August 2022, when my buddy Sharon (Aunt Sharon to my daughters) met Oleg for the first time, she told him she wanted to be the flower girl at their wedding. 

Sharon: "It's always been my dream to be a flower girl. I want to wear a frilly dress, have my hair done, and carry a basket of flowers."

She made us call Darcy, who was traveling solo in Arizona, to nail down that role, and Darcy agreed. 

Darcy: "I haven't been asked yet, though."

A year later, Sharon met Oleg's family and told them she would be the flower girl at Oleg and Darcy's wedding. Oleg's grandmother wasn't convinced. I don't think she believed Sharon, especially when Sharon dropped to her knees and proceeded to waddle down a pretend aisle, throwing pretend flowers.

When Darcy got engaged, I asked who would officiate, and when she shrugged, I mentioned Sharon. I said out of everyone we knew, Sharon would be willing, would get ordained, and would be perfect. Darcy called Sharon first when she and Oleg picked the April date. 

Sharon agreed to give up her flower girl dream.

Sharon: "Unless we can incorporate both of those in the wedding, which I think is very doable."

So far, Darcy has vetoed that. 

But Sharon is ordained and ready to officiate. 

Things are moving along smoothly and quickly.

Wedding mishap #2

The wedding dress has arrived! Whew. Darcy and I went for the fitting, and what we thought would take a few minutes turned into a couple of hours, and tons more money shelled out.

I attempted to get her tucked into the dress (remember it is a size too small) but finally asked for assistance. While the seamstress quietly went to work on the corset back, I tried to get the woman to interact. I think she said at most twenty words the entire two hours. When I said I thought the dress was too tight, she looked at me. When Darcy pointed out something, she looked at her. I was really trying to remain calm and remember the "I got the wedding preparations" instructions, but Darcy wasn't doing much in that area.

Darcy: "Well, I've never done this before!"

I finally unhooked a clasp, and Darcy breathed. The seamstress said nothing and went about hemming, sticking pins into the wad of tule, lace, and satin. Darcy and I kept making eye contact over her head and in the mirror, and yeah, what the hell?

Finally, I stood up, went to the back of the dress, and demanded we do something so she could breathe and not have the dress dig into her skin all night. 

Added after the wedding

The seamstress nodded and explained she planned on moving the fabric behind the corset to loosen it and move the clasp. Seriously? She couldn't have said this upfront. Was she hearing the ocean when I spoke like my husband?

The alterations paid for, we headed out, and I asked what she planned to wear on her head. When she said a veil, I asked when she planned on doing that, and we headed back to the veil section.

Darcy: "I didn't know. I've never done this before!"

Of course, we had to ask for help. I did keep my cool when the girl asked if I had an appointment. I mentioned how a veil might have been a thing we should've been steered toward at the first appointment when we shopped for the dress.

She got me help. 

We picked out a veil. I shelled out more money. Crisis averted.

Miscommunication or were they bought?

In researching Ukraine traditions, I came across a blog of a girl born into the country. She had moved as a child but still had family there, and when she and her finance traveled, she took him there to visit. Her cousin was getting married, and the girl blogged the entire wedding, explaining the traditions she hadn't known about. 

One was where the groom-to-be came to his fiance's house to claim his bride, offering gifts to her parents. I read different versions and concluded it to be a fun, how-well-do-you-know-your-fiance type of game. The gist of it was that the bride-to-be's family and bridesmaids would refuse to hand her over, asking the groom-to-be questions and upping the gift ante for every wrong answer. The bridal party was like a defense against him capturing Darcy.

I told Oleg it would be fun to do it after the bridal shower had concluded. 

So, when he pulled up to the house, Darcy's posse was ready.

Maddy captured him right away, but then he escaped, and when he returned, he came bearing homemade gift boxes for all of the bridesmaids. They caved. Darcy and I were unimpressed, so it was up to the parents. But Tom was modeling suits before heading to the tux shop the next day, and when Oleg arrived, Tom was finishing a beer and trying on guests' jackets he found lying around. 

We called it quits and turned the bride-to-be over to the groom-to-be. 

Maybe we'll have better luck with the Ukrainian wedding traditions.

Darcy's Bridal Shower

As I mentioned, I suck at hosting and planning big events. Want to come over and watch football or play games? I'll provide snacks and drinks. Get up and help yourself. But decorating, finger foods, and fancy things? Ugh. I know my limits. 

I offered to give Darcy a bridal shower. In hindsight, maybe I should have left that to Madison, but she's overwhelmed with work, and I was trying to be helpful. 

Thank god for my friend SueG.

With her help, we created a shower that included breakfast and games, as Darcy had requested. Our neighborhood breakfast place catered the main dishes. Oleg's family brought food. SueG popped baby quiches in the oven. I researched and devised games. We opened several bottles of champagne, and her friend posse stayed to chat and laugh afterward.

We're getting closer to the big day!

It's official! I'm published!

The other life change in January was finishing my romance short story for an anthology our writing group (The Write Spice) decided upon at our Christmas retreat. I figured I could do it because Christmas was the only thing stretched out before me at that retreat. Who knew that life would throw a curveball and we’d be planning a wedding?

I had to make some adjustments, the hardest of which was going from writing a 75,000+ word novel to a 6,000-word short story. As I’ve mentioned many times, there are tons of rules to romance writing. I had to research those same rules and suggestions for reducing my word count by more than half.

But I did it, and no, it was not easy. I originally hoped to set the scene for my romance series, but that plan went awry, and I had to scrap several writing drafts. My Orlando trip disrupted my writing plans, and even though I wrote frantically at the pool, in the car, and in my head, I discarded most of it, too.

When I got home, I wrote like a fiend. While I missed the deadline, these ladies gave me leeway, accepting my lateness and helping me through the other processes where I lagged. Eventually, my story came together, and I submitted it and got caught up in critiquing everyone else’s manuscript.

Our book launched! It’s available at major retailers, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Apple. I am officially a published author.

Of course, early sales went to my relatives. Shout out to all of you who support me! I love you!

The great thing is how much I’ve learned about the process. I have experience working with an editor, going live on a Facebook Launch, and interviewing on a podcast. From there, I applied to be an officially published author on Amazon and finally created a website.

When we received our paperback copies, we discovered several mistakes. I worked with the software to correct those, and now I have a better idea of how to self-publish my book when the time comes.

It’s been a fabulous experience. Have I mentioned that I’m a published author?

Those interested in romance can find it HERE. The paperback version is a tad expensive (we don’t set that for Amazon), so if you are interested in a signed paperback version, email me at cmkerwin@gmail.com. I’m selling them for $10.

The wedding cake

Darcy is all about her wedding pictures. Unlike her mother, who hates getting photographed, she is obsessed with having photos of the big day, touching on those traditional wedding picture points. While discussing this desire, I asked what she would do for the cake-cutting picture. Darcy doesn't like cake and instead plans on having a cookie cake, which she has every year for her birthday.

Darcy: "I'll have a fake cake."

Me: "A what?"

Darcy: "I'll have Maddy make a fake cake."

And she did. 

The big 16!

The thing about weddings and wedding planning is that everything else is second best. Tonight, while celebrating Nikita's 16th birthday, Oleg and Darcy's wedding was the main topic of conversation, and with that came drama.

Oleg's family worries about following American traditions while also wanting their own. Since I'd been researching those, we discussed them at our end of the table. Darcy, at the other end of the table, didn't like that. She doesn't want help planning. She is insistent on doing things her way, and I'm trying to respect that, although I find my feelings bruised. 

And that is silly. I'm insecure about significant events. I should be thrilled.

Somewhere in the middle, we had dinner and ate cake to celebrate Nikita.

Later, Darcy and I talked over our feelings, and a few days later, she sat down with his family and explained how the wedding would proceed, using items on the restaurant table to represent all of us. 

Happy Birthday, Nikita. Next year, we'll give you our undivided attention!

Wedding prep mishap #1

 The wedding dress did not arrive. I received the panicked bride's phone call. In her meltdown, we went from no one could tell me anything to they ordered the wrong dress. After talking her off the ledge and pacing the floor, I ignored the prior "I have the wedding preparations under control" instructions and called the dress company. 

After all, I'd paid big bucks for the dress. 

I talked to two different managers, exchanging personal phone numbers and videos of the dress, before I understood the situation--or somewhat understood what she spouted. It went something like this:

These dresses come in a standard sheath in white or ivory, and the overlay is created by hand. Because of our time frame, the correct size sheath for that dress wasn't available. No one could tell me why, so we ordered a smaller size after the seamstress assured us she could fix this issue in alterations. This dress had multiple delicate beads and lace and required a lot of fancy hand stitching. It wasn't finished. 

But it would be, and we would not get charged a late alteration fee. I reminded the manager I had her personal cell phone number if it didn't, and she laughed. 

The bride-to-be wiped her tears. I patted myself on the back. Crisis averted--for now.

Now I have to get home and write

True to his word, we relaxed. I received the early morning breakfast text, and when I declined, my brother called.

Rusty: "Get down here. I'm buying."

I went—not because he was buying, as he did the entire trip, but because I've whined about how he doesn't spend time with me, and here he insisted. 

It was a nice breakfast spot. As often as I travel to Bonnet Creek, I've never eaten there. The seating was outside, and despite the heat, it was lovely. 

We spent the day poolside. I wrote. They swam. Eventually, I joined them on the lazy river. Later that afternoon, I made Rusty participate in the "How well do you know your songs" game. It went from the 1950's to now. We did not come in the top three. I bet we were fourth. The DJ gave us points for Rusty's creative song titles for the ones he didn't know. 

Dinner that night was fancy at an expensive restaurant that they went to last year. Unfortunately, after we were seated, we discovered someone had hacked Susan's Facebook and Instagram accounts, which threw off the evening. Still, my dinner was lovely.

Susan and I stayed up into the wee hours repairing what damage we could, but she never did get her Facebook back. Make sure you have the two-step authenticity set up on Meta accounts. 

I bid them goodbye after check-out this morning and headed home. My heart is filled with happiness and love, and if that's my last adventure with my brother, I'm okay with it because this was THE BEST.

We're going where?

The following day, I exited the bathroom to find my brother standing outside the door.

Rusty: "Get dressed. We're going to Universal Studios."

I reacted like a Floridian hearing the news in the middle of August. It came out in a shriek that pierced his ears and drifted down the hallway for everyone to hear.

Me: "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" 

My brother did not accept this response. He shoved me into my room and instructed me to get dressed and be ready in thirty minutes. I whined the entire time, reminding him of last night's promise. It did no good. Susan wanted to relive her Universal experience as a child, and Rusty was all about pleasing the wife. 

Rusty: "I'm buying. Get in the car."

When my children saw the SnapChat of the above picture, Darcy immediately texted her sister. Together, they speculated who or what had invaded my body.

MOM IS AT UNIVERSAL STUDIOS???

Yes, I was--under protest. 

I am a park person, preferably in chilly weather, and at Disney World, where they pick you up in the parking lot and shuttle you to the entrance. I had half my daily step count just walking from our car to the Universal ticket booth!

But this trip was about spending time with my brother, and this year is about opening myself to new things, so I begrudgingly enjoyed the day. 

We walked from one end of Universal to the other. It's been years since I was there, so when we tried to find the Harry Potter world, I had only a vague idea that we had to find a secret entrance. I also reluctantly allowed myself to be photographed. 

The lines were tolerable, the adventures fun, and we shared a butterbeer. By the time dusk fell, we were all happy to find a restaurant to sit our butts in a chair and eat. That was not, however, the end. After dinner, my brother made us walk some more, and by the time we finally got back to our car, I was sure tomorrow would be the day I couldn't walk. 

Rusty: "It doesn't matter. Tomorrow, we relax."

Uh huh.