Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff

With the wedding in less than two months (yikes!), tensions are starting to run high. RSVP cards are due back tomorrow, and we haven’t gotten nearly

This will be me; all happy, no stressy! (New mantra)

half back yet. I still don’t have all the addresses to send out the after-party invites. A ceremony musician has still eluded us, and we’re still trying to track down a JP (as all past attempts have failed). That being said, lots of other details have come together and yet more are falling into place. I never realized how many teeeeeeny tiny details would need to be attended to.

This topic caused quite a bit of heartache for my mother and I recently. It all started with the cupcakes; ah, those damn cupcakes. They better be worth it. (But since my incredible Auntie is making them from scratch, I have no doubt they will exceed expectations.) Let me start by saying that the Fiance and I are low maintenance people. When we decided to get married, we wanted things simple and fun. We chose the theme (PIRATES) because 1) its something we love, 2) it forces us to dress up in costume, another thing we love, and 3) it would make choosing things super simple because it has to fit with the theme. For the most part, it’s been simple. What will the guys be wearing? Well, garb inspired by 17th century sailors, of course. What about the hall? How about a function hall with a pirate ship for a bar? The invitations? Designed by me, using the always-useful Vista Print and a little creative piratey ingenuity. Everything fell into place nicely. So what could have happened?

Those damned cupcakes happened.

It started with my mum stressing out about more than just the wedding. (Her life is up in the air, and that poor woman handles it like the mother (pun) of all champs – she’s allowed a little break down every now and then.) She told me we needed to meet with Auntie again to go over the details of the dessert table. I thought we had, only about a million times. I said this. I was informed that I needed to confirm the details, yet again, the numbers (how am I supposed to know how much my fat-minded friends will eat?), and what will go on top of the cupcakes for decoration.

Why do the cupcakes need to be decorated? We’re just going to inhale them (that’s how good she is at baking) so we won’t be looking at how pretty they are. Mum and the Stepdad proceed to explain to me that, as their gifts to me, they want to go above and beyond the details to make everything perfect.

Okay… breathe. Now, I get needing things to be perfect – I did, in fact, inherit a little OCD from my mum. But I’ve made great, GREAT strides in realizing that this wedding will not, in fact, be perfect, since I’m not allowed to do everything myself. (ahem*obsessive*ahem) And these tiny details, these things they want to go above and beyond on… its a level of elaboration that the Fiance and I do not want. We’re not elaborate people (unless I’m working on a costume). So why would we want an elaborate wedding to reflect our mundane lives?

So we argued. I couldn’t understand why these details needed to be decided, or exist at all, or why I had to be there for the deciding of them, since I didn’t care one whit what the answer turned out to be (and in some cases, like in how many of each to make, didn’t even know what the proper answer was). My mum argued that the details make a wedding, and I argued back that a wedding should reflect the bride and groom, and if both he and I don’t want these miniscule details, we shouldn’t have them forced upon us. We argued semantics for a while, and both hung up our phones angry and hurt. She thought I was being ungrateful; I thought she didn’t understand me.

I stewed, I was reprimanded, I crawled back and apologized (though secretly I still thought I was right, but I’m the kid; what can you do?) and things calmed down and righted themselves.

I still think I’m right, but I’m beginning to realize that doesn’t matter.

My frustration comes from a legitimate place. Since day one, I’ve been told this is MY day. It’s what I want, my decisions are final, as long as I’m happy, blah blah blah. But since about day three, it hasn’t actually been like that. I’ve made a decision, and while people go along with it, I can tell they don’t like it, or don’t agree. My mum agonized over what to wear (coz she doesn’t understand garb, you see), to the point where she was being kept up at night and I considered changing the theme. When I told the Fiance no hats during the ceremony, he was not happy. I’m asked to choose what I want my flower girl to wear, and when I finally decide and immediately offer to pay for it as a gift, I’m told I shouldn’t have to do that and we’ll just make her something instead. It seemed like every time I made a decision, after being pushed to consider and reconsider, I was still, in some way or another, being told I was wrong. The entire experience has felt very reminiscent of my childhood, and it made me increasingly uncomfortable. I even considered calling the whole thing off a couple times. Weddings, to me, aren’t as important as the start of the rest of my life, and I do not need to be married to the man I love to spend the rest of my life with him. Weddings cost a lot of money, last for less than a day, and years later are only remembered in pictures and funny stories. To me, they just don’t seem to be worth all the trouble.

Then, a friend, an angel we’ll say, gave me a great bit of advice. “Let her help. She’ll feel better because she got to do stuff, you’ll feel better cause you don’t have to worry, and to keep it believable work on the 1-2-3 method. If she gives you options, the first one pick option one, the second one two, the third three, then back to one.”

I thought about that, realized it’s genius, and then almost immediately realized something else. My angelic friend was right; it does make Mum feel better to tackle the details. She feels like she’s doing something, that things won’t fall through the cracks and ruin the wedding day. And if I don’t care about what goes on a cupcake, just pick something to end the discussion. She’s happy because I’ve made a decision, and I’m happy because she’s happy and the argument is over. In short, don’t sweat the details when I have someone to sweat them for me.

If I could go back to last October, though, I would still say yes… but I think I would have seriously considered the “Let’s just stay engaged forever” option. At the end of the day, a wedding to me is still just an excuse to party. It’s just a very expensive party. It makes everyone else happy, though, and that in turn makes me happy.

And those cupcakes are going to be damn DELICIOUS, so in the end, it’ll all be worth it.

Auntie is making strawberry cupcakes. From scratch. Pictures can’t even do them justice, guys.