Didn't I mention getting married?

As of May 17th, a lovely warm Saturday with a perfect breeze, Mul and I were married. Yes... I take credit for choosing the date - all that time studying the Old Farmers Almanac, looking for spaces between the wet and the hot, making sure that the three different areas that converge near our town at least didn't contradict each other - I picked the window in which our wonderful weather occurred. Mul teased me about that mercilessly, trusting to the OFA for weather predictions - until that Saturday turned out perfect. Then he thought I was a goddess. Of course, it could have been the gown.

We wanted all of our guests to feel casual and comfortable. We opened up our house, worked in the yard for a month (dodging some incredible storms and rain) mowing and trimming and planting new stuff (and let's not forget the mulching), and had practically all of our important people out to see us. Only one couple could not make it to the wedding and they had excuses - number one, jobs; number two, a new kid (very small still - love you, Wolfie!). Everyone else we invited made it! That made for a total of 19 people, including the wedding party.

We had people start arriving around 9 a.m. to help with the floral arrangements and laying tables out at the back of the house (in the perpetual shade, near a wall, breaking any breezes) so that the food could be laid out later. Then the pastor and his family arrived, early enough to talk us through the last minute changes (at our request) to the ceremony. Our parents and Aunt Helen & Uncle Bob arrived next, toting champagne flutes (and champagne!), extra chairs, salad, deviled eggs, baked beans and our gorgeous wedding cake. Eventually everyone was outside on the deck, introducing themselves around.

I dressed in my silvery-purple gown with a matching wrap over my shoulders. My high-heeled gold sandals were definitely old (and were pampered with a professional re-heeling the week before). I'd bought a new corset (my admittance to vanity and an attempt at looking slimmer). I had borrowed my mother's (perfectly matching) earrings, and my blue engagement necklace in my jewelry box waited for the quick-change after the ceremony. Mul wore his fabulous tuxedo and a boutonniere of mixed garden flowers (he looked so cool, quite dashing). With my hair up in a clip, the breeze felt wonderful. We gathered our guests to a corner of the yard chosen for the shady backdrop (so that we might show up better on film). At approximately 11:15 a.m., our pastor was dropping quotes from The Princess Bride such as "Mawwiage" and cracking us up. Perhaps a parent or two didn't get the reference, but everyone else did. I loved it.

There were some great shots taken with both our provided disposable cameras and the cameras our guests had brought from home. We've ended up with about 160 photos on a website that we've shared with lots of friends. Mul created excellent captions or descriptions for each and placed them in an order that makes sense. He was great all throughout, kept his sanity and everything. My sanity had to be returned to me later during the reception by a friend, dear enough to have held on to it for me all that time. She was the one who got to see me panic about the makeup mess I'd made and help me into and out of the corset so that I could at least feel like I looked thinner (even though the photos show a curve to my a$$ that looks distinctly like a bustle - note: I was NOT wearing a bustle). Mul and I (and the pastor because he didn't want to be caught on film drinking beer in his collar) ran inside to change clothes and help bring the food out.

Our mothers were wonderful, setting everything out for the buffet. My friend, the florist, even made an impromptu arrangement with the rest of the fresh clippings and placed them in a colorful vase with matching ribbon for the table. Our wedding cake was decorated in the purples and matching fresh flowers of our theme. The hot food stayed hot and the cold food lasted long enough for everyone to enjoy it. The champagne was ever lasting and the cake tasted better than I could have hoped. Even da Boyz got in on the act. The skinny one serenaded the crowd with his Siamese opera tenor. The pudgy one sniffed everything inside the house, inspected the baby's diaper bag thoroughly for security purposes, and attempted to be cute (pretty much a 9.9 there, he's nothing but cute). Everything was genuine and enjoyable.

My parents took off first. Then Mul and I opened the presents that weren't supposed to exist (we've been together for years, we didn't need new towels or another coffee maker), making sure to have someone take photos so that my parents would be able to see the fun later. We have a beautiful garden bench (which some saint of a guest put together for us), a fantastic new cookie jar (looks like a dragon defending the entrance to its mountain horde), and a couple of nice checks to help cover the expenses of everything. We plan to enjoy a gaming convention in a month as our honeymoon (with my daughter, now his step-d) for the full week... the checks will be very helpful for the gas purchases and souvenirs.

Then my daughter and I introduced our friends to a family yard game that was given as a gift. You may have seen something like it at a Target called Ladder Golf. This predecessor was termed Hillbilly Golf by its enthusiasts. Several new fans were born that day. Then we just sort of sat around in the yard, shooting the $h!t, drinking wine or beer and telling stories on each other. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and the tour of the house. It was a glorious day. Did I mention that we got married?!?

After everyone was gone and my daughter went to stay the night with my parents, Mul and I took off for our regular LARP, hefting the leftover plastic cups and napkins. We treated our other friends to half a wedding cake (just one layer, we kept the rest in the fridge all that next week) and two bottles of champagne. They thought it was a nice treat and considered us rather "core" for showing up on our wedding night. We met through a LARP - it seemed appropriate to go and we had a lot of fun being teased by our buddies about my possible name change (which I haven't).

We finally got around to the thank you notes tonight (still have to finish them and get them mailed). Our garden is blooming (even more so than two weeks ago). We'll be sure to take photos and share them with all of our wedding guests so that they can see what we'd been intending. My mom (poor dear) got the ceremony on video and has managed to (she's really very sorry) either erase it or tape over it when trying to (she didn't mean to) save it to a DVD. Since that was the most of our wedding disaster, I am VERY relieved. Everything else went so smoothly, it was easy to forgive her. We have our wonderful photos and website, the pastor is going to send me a copy of everything he said during the ceremony, and my scrapbook is waiting for a new (rather purple tinted) entry. I'll save that for this weekend.

Time... it's gettin' away!

So the little girl is suddenly 13.  Hmm... not sure how to feel about that.  I'm certainly proud of her and want her to grow into the woman that she CAN be... I just don't know who it is that she wants to be.

Sometimes she hates me - that's natural for teenagers.  And sometimes I am her best friend - but I shouldn't be.  That's a job for one of her peers, not her mom.  Yet I love her and like her (cause she's interesting and brilliant and creative and kind but sarcastic so it's not a gooey, sticky-sweet kind of "kind" - more like a "zing from across the table" kind because you know she only teases those that she likes.  Why waste intellectual energies on someone you don't even care for?) and want only good things for her.  If I can make her happy and it merely takes my presence and some time, by gosh, I can do that!

She's been creating these fabulous fan-fics on Halo characters and has some in the works for her favorite JLA characters next... she is SO cool!  We spent the evening at the art museum, discussing what "art" is (and isn't), what "craftsmanship" is, and what crap is.  We had a lovely time, pointing and going "hey, look at that!" and leaning (far too) close to the cases to absorb the details and reading the description plates.  We walked leisurely through the shop, testing the toys and flipping through the posters, looking at the beautiful books and stationary, joking about some of the very expensive jewelry that looked like a first grader made it.  In shorter terms, we had a ball.  I especially appreciated her enthusiasm for the arms and armor section in the medieval rooms.  - Never saw her crane her neck that way in front of a porcelain vase or a watercolor.  Heh.  My little girl.

Hm.  Let's take that term and break it down.  If someone referred to me as their "little girl", I'd think they were stupid.  I am neither little nor a girl any longer.  Mul has the right (by biased preference) to call me his girl or "the" girl in his life, but that's more like a "grrl" reference.  Like in Gamer Grrl.  My daughter, being thirteen years old now, is not exactly little anymore.  She's nearly adult - give or take a few legal years.  This is the point of her serious woman-training.  Now is the time that she becomes prepared for sanity-rending heartbreak, disappointment in the truth, learns that neither of her parents (nor anyone else she admires and believes in) is either perfect or immortal, AND deals with the most awkward physical phase of her life.  Sheesh!  Wouldn't any one of these things be enough to bring a good person down?

I love my daughter.  I wouldn't want anything to harm her.  That's why I have to let her get hurt once in a while by the natural stages of life that won't permanently impair her.  No, I don't want her to be involved in a nasty car accident and Yes, I would avoid the situation completely if I could help it.  But that is not up to me.  If a car accident is in the works for her, I want her to be confident in her abilities, cool-headed enough to deal with a crisis, thoughtful about other people and creatures to care for their welfare, and aware in situations that can result in damage so that she can come to decisions (on her own) that result in less strife that if she had chosen some other direction.  She's a very bright kid (and I use that term endearingly) and I hope she chooses wisely in all things - but that's not going to happen.  Using another example:  I don't want her love life to be messy - wouldn't we all be happier finding the perfect person in high school and marrying them after college to endure 75 years of wedded bliss?  (Too perfect, I know, it can't happen.)  Most people don't get it right in their first serious relationship.  So I will bite my tongue and hold my breath and beat my head against the walls to not say the exactly wrong things as she moves from whatever relationship she did have for a while to the next one, no matter how much one seemed better over another to me.  (Ugh, I'm going to eat those words later, aren't I?)

I fell in love a couple of times - at least I thought I had.  Decisions are made for lots of reasons, and sometimes for no good reason at all.  The first time I thought of myself as loving a man, he was heroically masculine, protective, mysterious, full of laughter, a great lover and kind of boyish when alone and allowing himself to seem vulnerable.  Nice mix, huh?  It took a long time to see that he was this way with all women - not that he flirted around or cheated on me.  He simply had that persona "on" all the time.  When he was with "the guys" he was drunk or high, too talkative about personal things, ready for a fight (physically); in short - a wound-up misogynist waiting for a trigger to be pulled.  I left him (or he left me) because I didn't want the lies (no matter how attractive) and I didn't want him the way he really was.  I wanted him as he seemed (or had seemed to be) - all virtuous and manly and concerned about honor.  Ah well... a friend of mine got him - then divorced him to marry his former best friend.  Not what I would have wished for anybody much less this man I had once admired.  He wasn't a bad guy, don't get me wrong.  He just set himself up so high in his own standards that he couldn't compete with his image once he came back to earth with his buddies.

The next time I wondered if I was in love it took a long time to admit it.  You see, he and I had years together... dating and seeing each other through college... me healing from my previous relationship and him being doormat enough to care for my selfish feelings - letting me dictate when we could see each other and what we were allowed to do.  I know he loved me or he wouldn't have respected me so much as to allow that to happen.  I was awful to him, I just didn't recognize it at the time.  Then, we had a baby - oops.  Yes, that would be the precious thirteen-year-old.  We waited several years to make sure that we were not marrying simply for the "sake of the baby" or succumbing to our parents' pressure.  Then, once we were married, we seemed happy for a year (maybe more).

In that second year though... I don't know what happened and when.  If I wanted to bring up what I thought was an important subject, he could veto it, choosing NOT to talk about it because we couldn't agree on what was important (like money issues, vacation as a family, his satisfaction or lack thereof at his job, health problems, the relationship between him and his daughter).  At least we agreed that his relationship with his daughter WAS one of the important subjects and he worked on that diligently.  Because their relationship is so improved, I wonder if my relationship with her has suffered.  But I digress.  During this unpleasant time, I found myself falling in like and then in love with Mul.  A frightening prospect - me, tempted to see this man who was not my husband.  We were only together in social situations as first, surrounded by other friends.  Then our discussions became more about our lives and wishes, art and pleasantries than just our common hobby.

It took me many months to find my lopped off head much less screw it back on.  Between giving up my marriage and increasing the time between me and the "other man", I was going crazy.  I tried talking to a lot of friends and family members, not the least of which had been my spouse.  But his answer was a very distracted one, fed by his insecurities about his parents' marriage.  So there I was, condemned by all (including myself) and yet blissfully happy in Mul's presence.  It wasn't a fair situation for anybody, especially my spouse.  He tried (just the once) to ask if there was any repairing our relationship/marriage.  I told him that it would be too little and too late.  Perhaps that was cruel of me, but BY GOD I meant it.  I had attempted to engage him so many times over those six months or more to talk to me, get counseling with me, let me go to counseling without him if he insisted, whatever could help us.  That's what I ended up doing... going to counseling for myself, hoping to make any sense of my feelings and my intentions.  Why did I want to leave my husband?  I didn't really - I just wanted him to act, talk and be different.  That's hardly fair for a decent guy to answer to... he never faked anything for me.  He simply wanted certain things less than I did and felt that his answers were the best ones (if not the only ones).

Now Mul... there's a mensch!  None of these men were poor picks on my part.  They were all attractive, intelligent, creative, manly (in their own ways), and giving (to a certain point).  But Mul is my soul mate... at least he has been since I met him.  Six years, nearly... we're getting married in May.  I'm extremely nervous about it.  I'm terrified that he's making a big mistake.  I'm hoping that I am not sabotaging his life by chaining him down.  I want to be a woman who deserves his thoughtfulness, kindnesses, attention, efforts to make me laugh, his touch... I could definitely go on.  I just don't know if I am familiar enough with that woman well enough to become her.

Thus my comment on who my daughter will one day want to be - what kind of a woman she will become.  How do any of us know how to grow up?  What class is taught or lesson learned that teaches us who we will be?  Am I now an honest person?  Not completely - not all the time... but I would like to be.  Am I virtuous and classy and kind and thoughtful?  No, not necessarily.  My porn preference fights the debate against virtue and class very nicely, and I prefer to be selfish and self-absorbed... it takes a lot less effort than thinking about what other people want or are affected by.  Do I deserve Mul?  No.  That's the easy answer.  Why not?  Much harder.

I love him, that's all I know.