Pre-Wedding Jitters

Oops, forgot to undo that button on her shirt again.

A few months ago, Amanda bought Wren this super cute vintage Nike sweatshirt. All I can think of is Body Break! Hal Johnson, Joanne McCloud? Anyone?

We painted our toes. And when I say "we" I really mean "I". No, Daisha, this is not leftover paint from our bedroom wall colour...ha! American Apparel now has nailpolish. We have seafoam, lilac and some form of peachy pink. How do I manage to actually paint Wrennie's toes? Stuff her in the Bumbo chair, feed her and make her stay in the chair until they are pretty much dry.

Here is a little photo teaser of Wrennie's beautiful dress for Andrea's wedding. My friend Alanna made it for her at my request. (Yeah, I sew, but I didn't have time for it this go around, so I asked someone who is even busier and has 2 kids and is in the process of selling their house. Makes lots of sense).

SATURDAY is the wedding. That is 2 days away. Not even. I would be 100% calm, cool and collected if it weren't for the fact that I am the Matron of Honour and giving a speech. I hate speeches. I abhor public speaking. So does my Dad. We are one in the same that way.
To deal with pre-wedding stress, I am blogging. My dad is golfing ridiculous amounts, and my mom is baking up a storm. My mom is baking so much that she baked muffins and banana bread for the morning of while us girls are all getting ready at an ungodly hour, and even a pan of brownies with icing.
"Mom, are those brownies for Saturday?"
"Yes."
"For breakfast?"
"I guess so."

Weddings are those special occasions in our lives that are so great when they happen and even better when they are over. Everyone is on some kind of high the whole day, and then we all crash with exhaustion at the end. At least....everyone in the family and wedding party I guess.

I should go...and write a speech...but all I can think of are embarrassing childhood stories...

P.S. After I wrote this post, I began writing my speech and then accidentally deleted half an hours worth of work. %#&@.