T-2 days until Wedding Madness ensues, but today is our main set-up day, so we’re quickly approaching the Wedding Witching Hour. The Wedding Witching Hour is similar to the Toddler Witching Hour. It’s when it’s been too long since the last nap, we’re hungry, we’re stressed, there’s too much stimulation, and we lose our shit. Also like the Toddler Witching Hour, the Wedding Witching Hour is inevitable. It is bound to come. It’s required by some sort of universal law. It is the nature of Toddlers and Weddings. HOWEVER, if we are lucky and wise, we CAN mitigate it. Bring snacks and distribute them liberally. Stay hydrated. Use a calm and soothing voice. And, when the shit is lost, sit quietly with the one who’s lost it and let them rage it out. Don’t take it personally. It’s no one’s fault. It’s just an overwhelming situation and it’s ok if the response to that is to feel overwhelmed. At the end of the day, the compassion with which we handle our own and others’ overwhelmedness has the ability to strengthen or weaken our connection to each other. So I choose extra compassion. Extra strengthening. Extra connection.
Aren’t we funny creatures? On some level, we expect all bliss and no angst. Especially with things like weddings. IT IS A JOYFUL OCCASION, DAMMIT. WE WILL EXPERIENCE ONLY BLISS IF IT KILLS US. Bless our darling hearts. We forget we’re doing this thing called Life with other people who are made out of human. Fabulous and fallible. Terrific and terrible. And we all bring all of that with us. At a wedding, there’s family, and with family there are a million triumphs and a million hurts. We pour it all into a melting pot and expect only the delightful parts to rise to the surface. God, we are ADORABLE, aren’t we?
Instead of living in an imaginary world the next two days, the most Wonderful and Fraught of times, I’m going to try something new. I’m going to try to inhale it all. The bliss and the angst. The easy and the awkward. The joy and the grief inherent in all things. I’m going pull it all deeply into my lungs. And live the fullness of life. As if this is how it is. As if this is how it’s meant to be.
I’m probably going to need waterproof mascara.
(Pictured: Radia and Lune, venturing forth into this Wonderful, Fraught world. Welcome, ladies. Welcome here.)
Somebody REALLY wants to meet the kittens. But Somebody has previously proven to be an Asshole to our resident cats. So Somebody was told she can LOOK at the baby kitties as long as she doesn’t scare or touch the baby kitties. Somebody has whined and fussed at them but hasn’t barked, not even once. Somebody is trying very, VERY hard to earn Kitten Privileges. Somebody doesn’t understand why it takes days and days—and days and days—of being Consistently Good before Somebody gains entry to the catio. Somebody correctly points out that No One Else in our household is held to such rigorous standards of perfection. Somebody thinks she should be given a real chance to prove herself, and if she accidentally eats just one kitten then we never have to let her in again, ever. Somebody is gonna have to wait a while. Poor Somebody.
Pictured: Somebody (aka, our Jack Russell/chihuahua mix named Nyx after the primordial goddess of chaos and night… because we’re nothing if not dramatic around here) and Leo who’s not afraid of her.
