1. What??? A DRY wedding reception. At a church?

2. My super conservative side of the family asking me if I’ve found Jesus.

3. It’s forcing me to drive to the northern midwest. In March. There’s probably still snow on the ground.

4. What??? A DRY wedding reception?

5. Family members asking me for the upmteenth time why I’m not married yet. “Aren’t you turning 29 this year?”

6. Related: I’ll no doubt be one of two women shuffled onto the dance floor to try to catch the bouquet. The other will be 18 years old.

7. The bride was hospitalized this week with kidney stones. It doesn’t bode well for a good party, but I’m hoping she feels better!

I’m a glass is half full kind of girl — even if that glass is short on the Captain Morgan — so here are a few bright sides to my cousin’s nuptials this weekend:

1. I get to see my adorable nieces and nephew.

2. I get a long weekend away from my job.

3. Kevin will finally get to meet my two older brothers. Now THAT is more than worth the price of admission.


I’d love to be so organized that I already had two blogs posts ready for you this week, but oops, I ran out of time. 

Here’s what I do have done: 

 – 98 percent of my Christmas shopping 

– Menu planned for my parents visit Friday-Sunday. No clue what to do with them Saturday though, so I’ll take your suggestions.

– Outfit chosen (or at least narrowed) for Kevin’s parents’ house Christmas Eve.

Somehow, the blog posts did not get done. But since all of my friends are out of town anyway, you, dear readers, are probably also busy chugging egg nog or choking on family moments, depending on your plans.

Since this started as a single girl blog almost a year ago, I will ask one thing: If you know someone single this holiday, who works and cannot get home to see his or her family, pick up the phone and wish them a happy one. Because I’ve certainly been there, done that.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah!

As if the holidays weren’t stressful enough as it is.

“Your parents are going to be here for Christmas, right? What time are they arriving?”

This from Kevin over gchat one day.

Me: Sometime shortly after lunch, I guess. Why?
Him: My parents want to stop by and see the house before they go out to dinner.
Me: So this means our parents are going to meet? Plus your other relatives?
Him: Oh, yeah I guess so.
Me: So they’re just stopping by?
Him: Yeah, for a drink. Then I’ll go out to dinner with them.
Me: I don’t know about this. Are we ready for our parents to meet?

I must be on Santa’s “naughty” list this year.

I admit that I’m being more dramatic about this than necessary. Yes, we’re serious about each other. Yes, it’s probably OK for our parents to meet. But on Christmas Day? Yes, it would be fine. They’d say hello, have a jolly gin and next thing I know, they’d be inviting me and my parents along for their dinner out — or DUM DA DUM DUM – they’d end up staying to help eat the dinner I’m planning to cook for my parents.

It’s just too cheerfully Cleaver for me, ok? No, I’m not REALLY worried about it. But hey, why push these things any faster than necessary? Can’t they just meet over a our-kids-just-sealed-the-deal-meal to discuss who is paying for the photographer?

Kevin says he’s going to try to avoid it because he doesn’t like the idea either.

Now his parents are coming over for a  Friday cocktail to check out our new place, so they won’t have to stop by on Christmas.

Gee, that’s better. Now I have to clean the semi-unpacked house so they don’t think he live-in[sin] girlfriend is a slob or a bad housekeeper.

Are they selling alcohol-laced egg nog yet?

It’s a delicate subject, asking your mom what the sleeping arrangements will be when you bring the boyfriend home for Thanksgiving: “We can sleep in different rooms if you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s your house.”

This week, my boyfriend will be spending a few days with my parents and sister. We’re staying at my parents’ house out of state. And we’re sleeping in the same room.

I wasn’t sure whether my mom would be ok with that. Yes, he and I are moving in together, but it is her house. Her rules. The chances of her mother allowing such a thing are only slightly better than a doughnut surviving a pregnant women’s meetup.

But she surprised me.

“Yes, it’s fine. I would have stayed in the same bed with your dad if I could have,” she said. (more…)