Quitting planning.

I sent an email this week to all my bridesfolks letting them know that planning was just too annoying and I quit. What a lovely idea to just give all this up and go back to focusing on the day-to-day things that I used to think about. But, clearly, given that planning is not really FP's strong suit, I can't actually quit if we are going to get married. And he wants to get married. And I love him best of all. So I persevere... sortof.

Overachievers Anonymous

Sometimes I get overwhelmed. Not for any other reason than suddenly it all seems like too much. I've had this problem a lot the last couple months. There has been too much to do, too much to decide, too much to think about. This blog has been one of those things that I have felt was just one thing too many.

Because I am an overacheiver, I have felt each time I post, that my post must say something that matters, something that helps make a decision, or explains a decision that has been made. I also have felt that a brief paragraph or two was not sufficient as a full-fledged blogpost. Now, I know that many, many blogs are made up of very short observations, but remember, I am an overacheiver. I have seldom been satisfied with what is "good enough," preferring, rather, to live up to my own standard, however ridiculous or overblown.

I have decided, in the interest of not shutting down "The Unanticipated Bride," that I will call some posts (if only to myself) "bloglettes," and accept that they needn't be essays. That way, I may post more often without the feeling of having failed at this task that I had intended to be an outlet for frustrations, not an additional one. So, forgive me if some subsequent posts are short. Forgive me if some posts resemble more the rantings of a lunatic rather than the cohesive thoughts of an intelligent human being. Forgive me if I don't always double-check for typos and misspellings. I will do my best to post at least a weekly bloglette, but somtimes I will forget, or run out of time, or just plain not feel like it. And I have decided that that's OK, too.

I have just re-read this post and realized that if you were to substitute the wedding planning for the blog-posting, the above all applies to that, too. My problems are clearly universal. I have got to chill out.

A List to Catch Up

I love lists, and I feel sadly behind in blog posting, so here is an annotated list of what has occurred since my last real post.

--Mom and Dad came for a visit, and we bought a bunch of plants.
     - Those plants took a really long time to plant, and some of them are still waiting for their homes. It rained so much in April that there was no opportunity to plant them.

 - The plants that did get planted required me to relay a retaining wall, but that's done:

  
 --I went on a vacation to visit my little sister in Florida.

    

- She took me to a Bridal salon, where I tried on what felt like a gazillion dresses. We narrowed them down to two, but then neither of those was really exactly right, so we left without actually buying anything.

    

   - Her husband and I discussed and planned about the new patio.

     - She showed me how to make bows, which sucks, and how to make rosettes, which I like, and have continued to make:

     - We hung out, visited Grandma, and had a very nice time.

--When I got home, I went with FP to Louisville for a day, and we discussed and decided to have a geothermal heating and air system installed.

     - We also had a brief talk about the budget for the wedding. This is a subject that will need revisited between us.

-- I spent a week running a jackhammer and tearing out the ugly old raised slab in anticipation of the new patio:

     - This is really, really hot, sweaty work, but excellent exercise. My shoulders got really strong.

-- I went with my bridesdude/wedding planner to Hobby Lobby to buy paper for the pinwheels, and bought what, hopefully, will be most of what we need for those, and talked through how to do the save-the-dates, and some other stuff that right at the moment I cannot recall, but I'm sure was very important.

-- I hauled a crap-ton of concrete away from the house, with the help of FP, in order to shore up the hill behind our shed.
     - This is also really heavy work, and puts big holes in gardening gloves, but is serious core-strenghtening stuff.
     - Dad helped move a bunch of the chunks to the correct location, so I have less of that to do this week or next.

-- My little sister and her family came to visit me, and her husband and I, with some help from my dad and his brother put in a kick-ass new concrete patio and steps.
     - When I did the math, I found that I had lifted more than 15 TONS of concrete. Yeah, that's a lot.

     - I am now of a mind that this will be where we hold the actual ceremony part of the wedding, because it's flat, and nice, and big, and the top of the steps is an area that everybody will be able to see, and if everyone in the universe doesn't see my handywork, I will be very sad.

     - I will be spending the next several weeks putting in retaining walls and landscaping so that it is pretty for the above-mentioned use.

-- While we were working on the patio, the geothermal company began their installation process, which, I hope, will be completed tomorrow. Our house will have serious climate control. This is awesome.
     - While they were digging big holes in our yard they uncovered a bunch of nice, big flagstones that I am hoping to use in the retaining walls, and new deck-surround: Of course, I have to get up early in the morning to retrieve said flagstones before the workers show up and bulldoze them back under the sod...


-- FP and I spent today wandering around retail stores trying to decide where, and on what, it made sense to register. I will blog more about this, because it was a very strange experience that should be discussed in more detail.

Now that I've typed it out, it doesn't seem like a lot to have done in two months, but I assure you that it has felt like a very busy, heavy, active couple of months. All-in-all, though, it has been fun. I do love having a project, and I love being able to say, "Look what I did."

When life gets in the way...

5/17/2011

I logged on today to realize that it has been nearly a month since I posted anything for those of you waiting on tenderhooks to hear how it's going in the land of UN-anticipation. Frankly, it hasn't. I had several real-time projects on my plate, and couldn't be bothered with wedding plans for a few weeks. But, now that those projects are all completed, I'm wading back into it.



I met with our potential photographer on Monday. She is delightful. We chatted about religion and politics for several hours, and actually spoke very little about the wedding. But I've seen representative samplings of her work, and I have no doubt that she will be great for us. And she won't drive me crazy, which was really the primary criteria.

6/26/2011

I began that blog more than a month ago; all about how life gets in the way, and today found that life, again, prevented me from finishing that one, or any subsequent blogs. Bear with me, and I will be better about posting in more reasonable time. 

Having been led by example...

My parents have been married for 48 years today. They fight sometimes. I know that they drive each other completely crazy as often as not. They each have a few habits that make the other want to commit acts of violence. But, not once in my life have I doubted that they each married their best friend. They have made it through extremely difficult times, and times that seemed easy. They have lived apart for years at a time, not because they wanted to, but because the situation demanded it, and come through it on the other side, a little rough for the wear, but no less loving. They raised 6 kids, each of whom has become successful in his or her own way.

I hadn't really though much of wedding vows til recently. They seemed just rote phrases that every couple spewed on their nuptial day. But Mom and Dad have proved them. They have loved, honored, and cherished for richer and poorer, through sickness and health, for all the days of their lives. I don't know if these are the exact vows my parents took when they eloped nearly half a century ago, but they have spend all the time since living them.

I hope that my marriage will live up to the high standard that my parents have set. I have chosen a partner who is my favourite person and my best friend. I know that we won't always see eye to eye. I know we will drive each other crazy. But I believe that there are no insurmountable difficulties ahead for us. Mom and Dad have proved that, together, all things are possible.

I cannot thank them enough.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you.

Sticks and stones may break my bones...

I have begun to struggle with my name. Well, not MY name, but my name as it might become. If you have been reading up to this point, you are aware that I pride myself on my independence. Part of that independence came with my name. I was not one of four girls in my twenty-four-person second grade class named Jennifer. I am not one of the many Sarahs with whom I graduated. I have been and still am the only Helen in each of my social circles. I am named for my mom, so at our house, I am "Helen A" or "Little Helen" for the sake of differentiation, but mine is not a common name. My last name, too, is perfect for me.  I am not a Smith or Jones, certainly, but I have a last name that everyone can pronounce and spell correctly, and that suits me just fine. I recognize that my given name will not change, but my last name is part of my name, part of who I am. Some of my friends use my first and last name together--something like a nickname. The idea of becoming someone else freaks me out. A lot.

I know, you will argue that I don't BECOME someone else by virtue of having a different name, but I think that names speak volumes about personality. Our name is the first thing someone knows about us. Before you are asked to a job interview, a potential employer looks over your resume, which has your name in bold print right at the top. If you join a book group, the first thing you do is put your name on the list a the front of the room. Your name identifies you. Changing it is a big deal. A massive deal. I would argue that the name question is the biggest decision that has to be made between now and the day I get hitched.

I thought I had made a decision. If I change my name to his, I loose part of myself, my initals become HAG, and my name sounds like a shrivelled old lady name. If I keep my maiden name alone, I would feel like I didn't enter into this thing for real. But, if I tack on my future husband's family name with a hyphen, then badabing, I have honored him, and kept myself intact. Being a creature of immediate gratification, I was satisfied, and didn't think about it further until I went to mark a new book.

I have a monogram that I use on all my personal property: Books and CDs, dishware that gets loaned out, even all my hand tools are monogrammed with my special little mark. It probably seems trivial, but I love that little mark. When I discovered it in high school, it delighted me, and I wrote it and reworked it til I had it just right.

When I realized that my simple little monogram would have to change if I add to my name, I called my sister, who is an excellent artist, and really good at visual puzzles. I asked her to try to find a way to incorporate the "G" that would be my new initial into the monogram in a way that didn't mess with its simplicity. This led to a conversation about the impression given by a hyphenated name.

I hadn't thought of the initial impression given by a hyphenated name, partly because I have a niece and nephew whose names have been hyphenated from birth, and partly because I don't know many women who chose to hyphenate. I know several women who kept their maiden names, many who took their husbands' names, and even one who reverted back to her maiden name after her second marriage (which seemed to me to be a really cool work-around). I can't remember having been presented with a hyphenated name before meeting the person to whom it is attached.

However, when my sister and I began to discuss it, she told me that the minute she sees a hyphenated name on a woman's paperwork, she assumes that woman is a bitch who was unwilling to immerse herself completely in her marriage. I tried to argue, but if that's the impression she gets, then that's the impression she gets, and surely she's not the only one who thinks that. So, I called another sister to get an opposing view. I just asked "What do you think when you see a married woman's hyphenated name?" Her first impression is "that woman is a feminist" (it shifted to femi-nazi later in the conversation). This was NOT the way I had hoped the conversation would go. We talked about it further, and she admitted that her impression of other women's hyphenated names is part of the reason that she didn't hyphenate hers. She also has a friend who initially opted to hyphenate, but for the sake of simplicity, has since dropped her maiden name entirely. CRAP. Of course I turned to other friends to ask, each with his or her own opinions about name changes. And I read articles on wedding websites and blogs; some of which added the entirely new choice of changing both our names entirely to something that doesn't belong to either of us. HA! All this did was get me even more fired up.

I would like to state here that I am not a feminist. I am a confident, selfish woman, who wants everything to be the way I want it. The more I read, and the more I talked, the more irritated I got that I have to be the one to make this choice while my husband-to-be just gets to stay who he is, and noone questions why HE didn't decide to change his identity, why HE isn't having babies, why isn't HE wearing white, why HE isn't ordering flowers, why HE... I digress, but you catch my drift. I feel like Favourite Person has virtually no decisions put on him, while I have the motherload. I'm the one who didn't care to get married in the first place, remember?

It all comes to this: I know the choice of name is a decision only I can make. I know that everyone is going to have an opinion one way or another, and that I have to take into account or disregard those opinions as I see fit. I don't know what I'm going to do. I have a year to decide, and it will probably take all of that year, and I'm sure that whatever I decide it will be the right choice for me. I hope.


...but names will never hurt me.

A Note on Perspective

I have been engaged to be married for exactly one month today. I have been alternately stressed and excited about the prospects of all the things that need to be accomplished over the next fifteen months. I have been deliberating over things like what color paper to use for invitations, whether I really need to buy a specific "wedding planner," whether flowers are really necessary to having a wedding, what is the exact protocol for a rehearsal dinner, and is it really necessary? And on and on the list goes. And while each of these things matters in its own insignificant way, ultimately, none of these things matters much after the wedding day is over.

I will continue to plan, and, no doubt, stress over these details. It's in my nature to fret over details. But occasionally the Universe has a way of dropping reminders to concentrate on the things that are really important: family, friends, home, health, and way of life; being happy with the things that are, and not borrowing trouble from things that may or may not be. I hope that I am able to remember this lesson when next I am confronted with the simple choices of table settings and caterers. Otherwise, I'm afraid the universe will drop more reminders, and, honestly, a tablecloth is just not worth that.