Wedding Bell Blues

I have worked 21 of the last 72 hours. Now for most people, that doesn't even add up to a full day's work each day, but please recall that I am 1) 8 1/2 months pregnant (give or take), 2) on vacation and 3) free labor.

It is crunch time for my friend's wedding and she was in need of a few (dozen) extra hands to wrap up final details. And wrap I did. I wrapped empty boxes to decorate the stage of the church under the fir trees. I wrapped chocolates (which I first spent 14 hours making) in cellophane. I wrapped rubber bands to hold the cellophane together in a pocket. I wrapped ribbon galore to finalize the table favors. And when I ran out of time without wrapping up the project, it came home with me to be finished in the next two days.

As I worked in the blessed, but occasionally lonely, quiet of a house without my children in it, I prayed for the couple whose nuptials I was (literally) tying up loose ends for. My oldest, who was a miniature bride in her dad and I's wedding, used to ask when we can do the wedding again. I always reply "Once was enough for me." I imagine this couple may have similar feelings after the frantic activity of the past several weeks. They were trying to be responsible with their budget, I'm sure, but I don't think they had any real idea what they were getting themselves into!

Then again, do we ever? Did I know when I planned that wedding of my own that no one really needs to release white doves in celebration? (Note: I learned this the hard way when they guy with the doves never showed up.) Did I know that making my own cathedral-length veil would take over 100 hours? Could I ever have guessed that the man I love deeply would also occasionally irritate me beyond belief? Would I ever have imagined our family this way--the constant chaos of kids, dirty clothes, the dog needing to go out, and the "joys" of pregnancy? Did I know I was doomed to watch hockey forever, dress a teenager for homecoming, take my son in for stitches, or have the dubious joy of raising a toddler who inherited my very own temper?

Still, I wouldn't trade it. Call me crazy, but it's true. I'm sure my friend will say the same. As long as I get these chocolates finished...