Bridal Shower Sassiness

Today I had my a bridal shower, hosted by my dear friends Kathy and Kirby. It was a brunch shower, so we had to get up and moving relatively early. I like Saturday mornings with yoga or pilates and Starbucks. This morning I got my chai tea latte and a little pantsless yoga time with my niece Caroline.

Chief Flower Girl Caroline is all dolled up and ready to rock.

I was so happy to par-tay with my mom and sister that I closed my eyes in excitement!!!

Here I am with my mother and the mother-daughter hostess duo of Kathy and Kirby. As you can see Team Giantess is on the right, Team Lilliputian on the left.

I had a great helper with my gifts. I didn't have to fetch gifts for myself, and I didn't even really have to open them myself either! How handy is that?

This one required a bit of muscle and teamwork to lift. Wine glasses are heavy, you know.

Kirby made a lovely bouquet for my rehearsal out of the bows. Her mom made the centerpieces. They are a small and crafty pair.

Mom and Kathy, two members of the Menopause Posse. They are a wild and raucous bunch of ladies. Thanks for the shower, Kathy and Kirby. I got lots of great loot!

Katie, Caroline, Kirby, and Peri

Two reformed hellions and two future hellions.

The Journey of the Dress

I am so excited that my wedding gown arrived today! I love it even more than I did when I first ordered it. The journey began at The Bride Room in Nashville, TN in March. I had been hunting for gowns I liked on the interweb, and I decided that I really liked these dresses by a designer called "Amsale." I even found some particular styles that I liked. I decided to call the bridal store in Nashville. The conversation went something like this..

Sweet Southern Bridal Lady: Hello, The Bride Room, this is Stephanie, may I help you?

Po' Dunk hick Betsy: Yes, I'm interested in scheduling an appointment. I really this those Amsale (pronounced rhyming with ham-tale) gowns.

Sweet Southern Bridal Lady: Yes, we would love to see you. Amsale (pronounced Ahm-saw-luh) gowns are so beautiful. I'm sure you'll find one you love.

Po'Dunk hick Betsy: Yep, git me one of them there gowns right quick.

Okay, I totally didn't say that last part, but I felt like Elly May Clampett anyway. If the lovely lady had not been so gracious, I might have died of embarrassment. A couple of weeks later we were there and had found the gown that I loved. I then received a phone call last week that the dress was in at the bridal salon, and they were ready to ship it. The delivery required a signature, so I had it sent to my dear pal, Jamie, who would be home with her two children and would be able to sign for it.

I anxiously tracked my gown's travels via UPS. Today I called Tim, her husband, more times than I would care to mention to check on the status of my dress. He was a real sport, and called me right when it landed on his doorstep! Trinity and I then raced up to Tim and Jamie's house, where Jamie helped me try it on. A few minor alterations and a bustle are all that I need.

Tim agreed to pose with the ginormous box that held my dress. He critiques my blog regularly, so he will surely enjoy this:)

Call the Fire Department, Bob is Grilling...

We should have known not to fire up that grill on that fateful Mother's Day of 2010. There was a sign, straight from the Lord himself, but we ignored it. Such begins the tale of my father trying to burn down his house.

My mother called me the Wednesday before Mother's Day weekend and announced that the first grilling of the season would commence in honor of her. Trinity was thrilled as he prefers cheeseburgers to her previous suggestion of chicken salad. She said that they would drag it out from the shed and clean it out on Friday. I must explain a little bit about our shed, as it has a bit of a checkered past. To keep things short I will just say NO ONE likes the shed. Its kind of like James Earl Jones' fenced in backyard in The Sandlot. Something is always trying to kill someone out in that damn shed. Creatures live there. When Rob was in middle school a 6 foot long black rat snake slivered out of THE GARAGE and headed back to its home in the shed. After loosening his bowels on the driveway he claimed he would never go near that shed. Mom and Dad are brave though.

So Friday rolls around, Jane and Bob roll the grill out of the shed, drag it through the yard and set it up on the back patio. All is going well until Dad flips open the lid and comes face to face with an enormous female POSSUM, WHO HAS HATCHED A BUNCH OF BABIES AND IS LIVING IN THE GRILL. Now, I know that baby possums don't come from eggs, rather we all know that they are spawn from the devil himself. There was lots of hissing, as my parents retreated into the safety of the house. There were calls made to area organizations, but no one was reached to rescue my parents from the litter of possums. They slept in terror that night.

The next morning the family had vacated the premises, clearly unhappy with their new landlords. All was well, and Dad thoroughly cleaned the grill, as the tenants had only occupied the lower storage shelf. Rob, Trinity and I arrived Sunday afternoon, excited at the prospect of cheeseburgers.

So the possums weren't sign enough of troubles to come. My dear father lights the grill, only to see flames shoot up and begin to engulf it. Trinity barrel rolls(not really but that would have been way cool) into the ivy bed which is situated slightly lower than the patio. He grabs the hose and starts to fight those flames Kurt Russell "Backdraft" style. This apparently goes on for about a minute and the flames continue to shoot higher and higher, beneath a lovely old tree. That's when Dad screams, "Call 911" Now, peeps, here's where all hell breaks loose. Mother calls the fire department, Trinity continues to battle the blaze, Dad and Rob stand there in shock and I rescue the fool dog, who is standing there dangerously close to the point of origin( I learned that from CSI).

Now the Honey Creek Fire Dept. is located about 10 feet from mom and dad's house. We hear the sirens, rescue is near! Then, then, then, the fire goes out! Damn! Can't it burn dangerously, but not too dangerously, so we don't look like a bunch of idiots? The next scene included 3 Fire Engines, and the entire neighborhood gawking in our driveway. The Fire Chief assured us "that we had done the right thing, "after school special style, and then concluded that the connection from the gas tank was not completely closed.

Awesome!

Here Mother is going to talk to the neighbors.

Fire Safety lecture time.

Despite years of personal development, she still turned into her mother.

This sassy slogan is on a magnet that hangs on my fridge. Oh, how true it is. I contest that my sister has actually turned MORE into my mother, but I run a close second. This is what happened when I returned home to visit her last weekend on Mother's Day...

What's this, you ask? Oh, its just two women who share a lot of genetic characteristics, separated in age by almost exactly 31 years wearing matching mint green Lacoste sweaters. Does anything spell out love more than a pair of alligator emblems? I assure you that this was wholly unplanned and provided a lot of fodder for Rob and Trinity's sarcastic quips.

Courtney's 30th Birthday

BFF Court turned 30 this weekend. She has officially joined the club. Court's birthdays have historically been a good time, usually complete with scavenger hunts, trampoline jumping and sleepovers. This year's birthday was a little different. She started the weekend by running 13.1 miles in the mini, and Trinity and I spent the morning driving around, trying to park and catch a glimpse of her colt-like gait. We were all equally worn out by the venture. The evening began with appetizers at Allison and Steve's, then moved out to blatant bar debauchery. There were lots of displays of pursed lips, hands in the air, eyes closed in emotional music feeling. It was truly a beautiful experience.

Example #1- Music feeling

Example #2- goosing. Court with her pal Julie. Julie is a petite Southern Belle. She had a great accent. Notice how Court is hunkered over-

Cut to the Yankee Trannies. This was my chair dance. I couldn't be bothered to stand up, so birthday girl was forced to dance behind my chair in a gyrating style. At this point people were starting to stare at our classy behavior. I had to close my eyes and go to my happy place.

Proof that this ridiculous behavior is not new. Here we are last year at my 30th. Happy Birthday, Court!!!!

A Shout out to my Mommas

Ah, Mother's Day. A wonderful day to appreciate those women in my life that deserve a lot of respect for growing people. This is nothing short of amazing. What's even more amazing is that all 3 of them managed to vacate people from their wombs successfully.

First up on that list is my own dear mother, Jane. When it comes to childbirth, Jane is a real champ. She birthed an 8 1/2 pounder with Katie, I was like 9 lbs, 6 oz, and then big headed Rob came out at exactly 10 pounds. She required no epidural, or rather, was not offered one in po' dunk Terre Haute. One might think Rob was her most difficult birth because he was so ginormous. Such was not the case! It was I, Betsy, ever selfish and wanty from the start, who tried to leave taking along with me her placenta, uterus and other such necessities. The doctor abruptly stopped me from being so needy, but the condition unfortunately persists.

Jane was/is a strong personality who taught all 3 of her spawn to be strong and independent, even though she won't drive across the street by herself now:) Oh, but seriously, she has always been steady, reliable, and incredibly loving. My fondest memories involve my precious mother. She's also quite a looker-

Mother aka Silver Fox

Next up for discussion is sister Katie. She has always been the nurturer of the family, incredibly generous, and puts everyone before herself. This always worked out well in our relationship. She puts me first, I put me first. Katie always wanted to be a mother, and now has Caroline, who fulfilled that need. When she put Caroline before me, it took some adjusting. Now I suppose this is natural, but it took some adjusting all the same.

Finally, my last mother of the hour is Miss Pat. Thank goodness for this sassy, blonde Southerner. She is responsible for bringing my true love into this world, complete with gentlemanly manners and a hell of a lot of hair. Trinity's mother is what I like to call a Good Time Charlie, someone who is the life of the party and always makes you smile. She is also a talker. When Pat and Jane get together I wonder who will take a breath first in the conversation. They both enjoy the talking.

Lastly, I must honor this furry hot mess. Although I don't usually refer to her as a "fur baby" as many childless women might do, she has inspired some mommy-like tendencies in me. I feed her, I love her, and mostly I antagonize her.

The Cubbies!

Saturday was a big day! My dear father decided to take me and Trinity to Chicago to see the Cubbies play! Trinity had never been to a game at Wrigley Field, and I haven't been since I was a little girl in love with Ryne Sandberg. Dad wanted to celebrate Rob completing his first year of law school. We are so proud of our once wayward son who has a higher IQ than yours truly. My discovery of this fact is an entirely different post! Anyway, Dad planned a totally spontaneous trip to Chicago for a day of baseball fun. Mother did not attend. Why? Jane has an unnatural fear of driving to Chicago and she is terrified of being hit in the head with a baseball. This second part is not likely, but my dear mother was one shat upon by a seagull, so let's just say she isn't the luckiest lass around.

The game was so much fun, complete with lots of drunkards. On our way out of Wrigley, Dad was approached by a man who read the red "I" on his cap as an emblem of Wisconsin. He shook Dad's hand, slobbered all over him, slurring the word "Wisconsin" repeatedly. Dad, ever friendly, responds with "Wisconsin?" I had to interrupt with, "Buddy, that is an Indiana cap he's wearing. Wrong Big Ten school, fool." I actually left out that last word.

Dad drank nothing all day but water, as seen below. He is not as rowdy as his children, or that crazy Wisconsin man.

Meghan, rocking some shades, and the man of the hour. I think he is thinking about having another beer, or possibly Fraggle Rock. I'm not sure which based on that grin.

Post hot dog eating, but before nachos and chocolate chip cookies.

Besides the game, this little girl was the best part of the afternoon. She was hilarious, eating constantly, and walking up and down our row. She stood the whole time. At one point she rested her head on the shoulder of the random man in front of her. Oh, and she wore a bib all afternoon. I wish she had an extra one. I totally could have used one too.

Nacho eating. This got really messy.

Up there is the one and only Vince Vaughn. I love that native Chicagoan and funny man. He led us in the 7th inning stretch. This moment could have only gotten better if Jennifer Aniston was with him. I love her.