What really matters?

I was reading a book a few months ago, where the hero and heroine began their acquaintence fighting. It was her independence matched against his arrogance, her curiosity against his privacy, her life of laughter against his life of misery. So why were they matched together? Why were two opposites supposed to be the perfect fit? By all accounts, it should have been ludicrous. They had absolutely nothing in common, not a single thing. He was a weathly, lonely spy who sincerely hated his life. She was a fine lady, who hated the propriety forced upon her. Not exactly an ideal match.
Yet, when he was literally ordered to spend time with her, he found her lightness, her wit and spirit and laughter, to be exactly the cure he needed for his dreary life. And his hidden depths mystified her, and slowly, very slowly, I can assure you, they found passion and love and joy in each other. Naturally, there was the physical element of attraction as well, but that's besides the point.
But here's what I am getting at. When he proposed to her, or rather, when he asked her father for her hand, he said this: "I love your daughter, sir, and I like her very much as well."
That struck me and I put my book down and stared out at nothing. He loved her, but he liked her. Some people might find that redundant or stupid.
I find that the most romantic thing he could have said.
Years ago, a woman my parents knew told them that she always gave this advice to young men she knew: "When you get married, make sure that you honestly, genuinely like this girl as a person. If you don't, when hard times come, when the fights come,"[here she always added "and they will"], "it will be rather difficult to remember that you love each other when you don't even like each other."
I've always remembered that. And I think it is a very important truth. Too often in these days, I think that women look for love and passion and gratification. They look for someone for the time being.
Why are we selling ourselves short? Why not search for someone who enjoys being with us? Someone who knows what will make us laugh and go to extraordinary ends to see that we do. Someone who we are friends with, who lets us cry when we need to and won't freak out, who will be totally stupid with us and not care, someone who understands us, even if only a little [give him a break, he is a man, after all, so we cannot expect omnipotence]. Why not enjoy an entire lifetime of being blissful instead of a few moments of happy?
Don't get me wrong, I am a huge spokesperson for love. Real, true, deep, and abiding love, the kind that poets write about. I believe that settling for mediocre shouldn't happen, that no woman should give up on dreams. But love needs to be founded in the right way. Not in looks or body types, [though I also insist that physical attraction is important], but in the personality, in the way they treat us, in the person they are underneath everything exterior.
For example, anyone who knows Jane Austen knows Sense and Sensibility. Let us look back to Colonel Brandon and Willoughby. Willoughby was the handsomer man, young and muscular, while Colonel Brandon was an older man, who had seen and felt much. Yet in character, Willoughby was a monster, and Colonel Brandon was kind, gentle, and caring. Marianne fell for the same foolish trick that the rest of women do, vying for the attentions of the more attractive man while ignoring the other.
Now, I know that physical beauty is important, and I am a bit picky myself in looks, but all I'm saying is that looks are not the most important thing. Nor is the passion we may feel with someone the most important.
What really matters? That a man be more interested in who we are than in what we are. And that we do him the same courtesy.

There's a Map for That...

I know you have all been dying to hear about my wedding extravaganza and wondering what has taken me so long. I can hear you all now...."What has she been doing??? I mean, for cryin' out loud, it is TUESDAY, almost WEDNESDAY. I can't sleep until I hear everything!!!"
Well, my dears, let me explain.... No, there is too much. Let me sum up:
There was a wedding. I went. There was a reception. I came home. I went to reception #2. I came home. The end.

No? Ok, I'll bite. (Although it really is too much...)
Wednesday I drove to Cincy to stay the night with the groom's family. I was riding to DC with them and we were leaving at dark thirty. So I see George spreading papers all over the kitchen table. And I mean ALL OVER. And I, being without pretenses, said, with my natural eloquence, "Holy Crap!" And then I looked closely....they were maps. Lots and lots of maps. His explanation? "This is how we engineers do things."

Well, that worked for me. Thursday at dark thirty on the dot we left for our humongously long trek. Thanks to George, I not only had directions, but a lot of detailed maps! Every leg of the journey was mapped out. This made my job as Navigator of Car #2 very nice. The drive was actually fun, I am still surprised to admit. Amazing what good company [and a little caffiene] can do for roadtrips! We got to DC and all vowed never to enter an automobile again [which, sadly, did not last long], and went to Hotel #1. [There were four that various parties were staying in. I was at #4] Other members of the groom's family arrived, bringing with them the most adorable children ever created [my own niece excepted. she is the most of all. duh.] After a very exciting dinner at a mall, a journey to miraculously find a white shirt someone forgot [I almost got a badge of honor for that one], and a rousing game of musical cars, I got to my hotel at 9:30ish. I think that was the earliest anyone actually got to their places, as a meeting with the bride's parents, a trip to the airport, and yet more musical cars games were going on with other wedding party members.
Friday dawned early. What can I say, I am a female and we pull out all the stops when it matters most. I woke 2 hours before I had to meet anyone. I showered, and waited, then dried my hair, put product in, and waited, then straightened, then waited, then makeup. Maybe I should explain a few things here: my hair is awful. If I blow dry too soon, it will frizz out of control. If I straighten too soon after drying, it won't last. So yes, the waiting was important. And I am not a huge makeup person, but I went all out. Hey, it's a wedding. ANYWAY, then I went to breakfast with the other people in Hotel #4 and we ate [delicately for me...I had my reception dress to think about], then left for the wedding. We didn't have to pick up the people from Hotel #3 as previously planned, so we went straight to the ceremony. The white shirt was delivered, the bride and groom arrived, and still I had no children to watch... Nerves were flying. The group from Hotel #2 HAD to be on time for the ceremony!!! Then I got a call that they were running late and I should meet them with the other sitters in the front. So when a silver van screeched into a parking spot and four beleaguered wedding party members spilled out, waved 'hi' and 'bye' in the same wave, and ran inside, I was ready and jumped in the driver's seat. A nice little jaunt took place, for which there WAS NO MAP, terrifyingly enough, and when all children had woken, we went back and waited.

Me with Child #3. SO CUTE!

Child #2 with her uncle, Brother #5

Child #1, playing hide and seek.

Soon enough, the deed was done, and the picture taking could commence. We'll skip the part about the crappy fit of the tuxes and how only two of the boys had ones that fit [honestly, why take measurements when they aren't going to cut them right, I'll never know]. There was much bribery for keeping smiles and pretending we all still liked each other amidst heat and sweat and blisters, and the children were worse. Luckily, the photographers were efficient and we all got to leave...except for my friends, the bride and groom. Oh, no, they couldn't go. I wonder why I even like weddings....They had the longest, hottest, most tiring day ever! But they were good sports and it got done. Then we had a luncheon....it was fabulous. One of our friends had the good fortune to spill marinara on his only white shirt, and so another run to the mall was made. Lucky it wasn't one of the tuxed guys. Then there was more picture taking at the bride's house and, to quote myself, HOLY CRAP. Never in my whole life have I been to a house I coveted to this extreme. I played with the babies most of this time, and enjoyed it IMMENSELY. Then I made a quick stop [thanks peeps at Hotel #4] to change into my FA-ABULOUS outfit [yes, it fit perfectly!!! no more diet!] for the reception at the Ritz, as seen below. Yes, you read that right. Ritz. As in Carlton. Jealous? I walk in and a waiter with a tray asked me if I wanted sparkling water. Oh, the night was good. It proceeded as most receptions do, the bride and groom came, danced, smiled, looked happy and in love and made the whole room jealous that we were not they...the servers asking if we wanted more beef Wellington or crab cakes...the dessert bar....Ah, receptions are great. Once we had tossed rose petals on the bride and groom as they made their escape for their pre-honeymoon [they didn't leave for Jamaica until today], we ourselves went back to the hotels and slept, our feet throbbing under the bed covers.
Saturday was not as early, but there was a fire alarm at Hotel #4. That was great. Yeah, no. But it was over, there was no fire, so I could check out in peace and get back into the car, far more crowded on this trip than the last, and spend 9 hours entertaining the greatest 3 year old ever. We went through a LOT of DVDs. But we giggled too. Construction traffic slowed us a bit [which was odd, as no construction was occuring] but we DID make it back to Cincy. I was not about to head back home after that, so I bunked out on a couch....after staying up until 2:30 with Lori watching Steel Magnolias and waiting for car #2, whose passengers had done a bit of sight-seeing in DC before leaving.

Sunday I came home...and crashed on the couch, watching Out of Africa and Princess Bride. I slept, fitfully, got up the next morning and worked a bit, then got in the car with Mom and drove BACK to Cincy for the last reception. The food was good, the company better, and my friends, the bride and groom, still looked happy and in love. If after all of this they can manage to do that, I have very high hopes indeed.

I know why I love weddings. It reminds me that even though this world is going to the toilets, love and eternity are still important to us. It's a crazy time making it all work, but at the end of it, when the rose petals are settled, the garters thrown, and the last beef wellington consumed, everything, even those nasty blisters and exhausting roadtrips, everything was worth it.

And I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

I'M AN AUNT!!!

That's right, folks! My lovely sister-in-law Erin delievered a healthy baby girl yesterday at 12:53. She was 7 lbs 8 oz, about 20 inches long, and she has a LOT of adorable strawberry blonde hair. Erin and Baby Carly are doing well and I cannot wait to see her in person, but that will have to wait until next weekend because I have a wedding to go to and other babies to play with. But my little Carly is the most beautiful baby in the whole world and I don't care who argues with me. I win.

This is the best picture I have at the moment. Isn't she beautiful???

Thanks, Erin, for blessing our family with this little girl. AHHHHH, I can't wait to hold her! Aunt Becky is gonna be the favorite, mark my words!