I started making wedding plans right after Grant proposed. I didn't know what kind of wedding I wanted, but I did know what I didn't want. My first marriage was all about the dress, the flowers, the cake, anything and everything except the groom. The reality that I forgot that detail slapped me upside my head when my new groom went downstairs to the bar instead of spending our wedding night together. This time, the wedding would be all about the groom and the life we would share starting after the wedding. The first item on my list was location. You would think this would be the easiest choice, but not for us. Option 1 was one of our churches. That one was quickly nixed because my home church was where I married the first time. His church was the one my ex's family attended. Our current church didn't marry divorcees, so onto option 2. Smoky Mountains seemed an obvious choice for a quick and easy wedding until Grant vetoed that because his first honeymoon was there. It was all downhill from there. Vegas, Hawaii, Florida, the list went on and on because we couldn't find a place that one of us hadn't been with some ex (or skank, in Grant's case). I finally surrendered and told Grant I guess we would just have to go to the courthouse. I guess he felt bad for staining most of the United States with memories of his conquests, so he offered to take over the wedding plans. All I had to get was my dress and he would do the rest.
I came home from work the next day and he had made all the plans (For a female it takes a year to plan a wedding. For a male, it takes 3 hours tops.) He said all the arrangements were made and we needed to decide on a date within the month. Yep, within the month. I don't know if he thought I might back out if we waited longer than that or if he got a discount for last minute plans, but nonetheless, we picked a date. We settled on Friday, October 13, 2000. Now, to most people 13 is an unlucky number and Friday 13 is a day for hiding in the house under the covers until Saturday comes, but to us it was the logical choice. In our warped logic, we figured the other days of the year had been unlucky for us, so this time we would tell superstition to kiss it and pick the day that no one else would want to get married. We booked a flight for California and I ran to my friend Terri's house for a dress. Terri's mom had a clothing store for years and her unsold stock was in a room at her house. I figured she would have something that would work (Can you tell, wedding number 2 is soooo much different from wedding number 1). All of the dresses she had were wedding 1 looking and I wasn't about to be like the Real Housewives and pretend this was wedding 1 in virginal white with a long train and all that mess. Luckily, Terri's mom had a beautiful suit that she had worn to a wedding that she offered to give me. It was perfect. Simple, classy, would pack well, my wedding planning was over.
The day before the big day came and we headed to Memphis for our flight. In typical Grant fashion, he was running over an hour behind leaving. Then he realized that he didn't have much cash so he headed for the ATM. I was in a nervous jerk by this time because now we were an hour and a half behind schedule. We turned into the airport on 2 wheels and sprinted like OJ (airport OJ, not freeway chase OJ) through the airport just in time to see our plane heading down the runway. OMG!!!! Seriously??!!!? If I ever needed a sign that this marriage was a mistake, this was it. For the next 5 hours I sat seethingly in silence while Grant looked for every reason in the world to make me forget this bad omen. "Maybe we missed the plane because it's going to crash (He wished 200 people dead just to prove missing the plane wasn't a sign not to marry.)" "Maybe there's a virus on the plane that would've made us so sick we would've been in the hospital instead of on our honeymoon." "Maybe all the luggage will be missing when that plane arrives, so it's a good thing that we get to go on the next one so we will have our wedding clothes." He went on and on until I finally lost it. There we were, yelling, crying, and pleading in the airport food court. Boy, I bet everybody there was wishing they were the happy couple going to get married!
When we finally landed in Reno, Grant and I had made up. I would like to think that I was sure missing our flight wasn't an omen and that this marriage would be the fairy tale I hoped for, but at that moment, I was thinking, at the very least, Grant believed in 'til death do us part' like I did and for better or worse, by golly, we would stick it out no matter what. We drove into California to a beautiful Inn with a view of Lake Tahoe and a chapel for our nuptials. We stayed in a fabulous suite with champagne chilling by the fireplace. In that chapel, we said our vows and this time I knew we both meant every word. Looking at my Husband, I knew that for better or worse, in sickness and health, through the good and the bad (despite Grant's pleading, we did leave out the obey part), he would be by my side every step of the way. Now, 13 years later, my marriage couldn't be better. Standing in that chapel, I never imagined all the trials our relationship would have to endure. Court battles for our children, estrangement from my children for a period of time, the sickness and death of our family members, job changes, infertility, the list is long for reasons we could have called it quits years ago, but instead, with every ordeal, we circled the wagons and met the challenges head-on. Not once have either of us even thought to do anything else.
For all those who think the white dress, bank-breaking, perfect day is the first step toward a perfect marriage, I say this- Until you have your wedding in the one place your fiancee hasn't taken a hoochie, borrow a suit from a little old lady, and miss your flight to your wedding destination, you haven't really even started to test the waters of your future marriage. All those things weren't omens that my marriage was a mistake, but tests to make sure we were able to push through the stuff that didn't matter to get to the stuff that did.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
I Taught the Men at Guantanamo Bay How to Interrogate
My 13th anniversary was this weekend, so, in honor of this monumental occasion, I thought I would share the story of our journey from engagement to altar.
For those of you who haven't known us for our entire lives, Grant and I have known each other since we were 5 and 6 years old. He was even my boyfriend for a minute in middle school and took me to the fair. He claims he kissed me but I only remember holding his hand and staring at his deformed pinkies (they are C-shaped). Somehow we never made it to an official relationship until I ran into him at a dance recital after we both divorced. Anna Claire and my niece were in dance class together. I saw him sitting behind me and my sister-in-law told me he had also recently gotten a divorce. I decided he would be a great "break-in" date since I had been friends with him for decades and I was rusty at dating after almost 13 years with the same guy. When I left the recital, I stopped and spoke to him, caught up for a minute, and told him to call me sometime. I walked out all excited thinking, "Yeah, I still got it!" and went home and waited for the phone to ring….and waited….and waited. Finally, three days later, I'm thinking to myself, "Heck, my kids will be back in a couple of days. Either I call him now (Which, to me, is the equivalent of giving up my Southern Belle card and becoming something worse than a Democrat- I would be a FEMINIST!!!!), or I don't go out for another week. I swallowed my Scarlett O'hara attitude and dialed his number. When he answered the phone, I basically said, "Well, you didn't call, and my kids are coming back, so if you want to go out it's now or never." We set the date for the following night.
While I was getting ready for our date, another guy called and wanted to meet for drinks. I told him I'd meet him at 9:30-10:00 (in case I needed a Plan B). Since I was familiar with Grant's style, preppy and well-groomed, I dressed in a cute sundress and sandals and sat down to wait for a knock at my door….and waited….and waited. 45 minutes later, he arrived at my door in a t-shirt with a gecko on the front, tan painter's pants, and mandals!!! Between his wardrobe choice and punctuality, I was convinced that Plan B was a good call on my part. We went down to his car and I had to move piles of papers out of the seat so I could even get in the car. We went to Vanellis and while we were waiting for a table, I started quizzing him. You see, I decided when I divorced, there was no reason to waste my time dating a guy that wasn't up to my marriage standard. Even if the "it factor" wasn't there, at least the candidate would be worth a try. I didn't want to fall in love with another man that could never be what I wanted from life. I made a list of what I wanted and didn't want, and proceeded to grill him. We rapid fired back and forth, things like 'how long have you had your job?' how often do you attend church?' how many drinks do you consume per week on average?' 'what is the amount of your total debt excluding your home?'- You get the idea.
The quiz continued into the morning. About 3 a.m. we decided to call it a night. We literally talked for 7 hours straight. I walked him to the door and he said good night and walked down the sidewalk. About halfway to his car, he turned around and came back and gave me a quick, simple kiss, and walked away again. I was hooked right then and there. Come to find out, he was late because he went and bought that outfit off a mannequin at Old Navy because his clothes were all preppy and he didn't think that was what people wore 'these days' and he wanted to be 'hip'. We power dated for 4 months. We were together every minute of every day except for bedtime. At bedtime, we were on the phone until 2-3 in the morning and I had to be at work at 7. We were literally living on love because we rarely ate or slept those four months. During the forth month, I started looking at houses to buy. He went into panic mode. In both our minds, we knew where the relationship was headed, but for some reason, I wanted a house. He suggested moving in together, which I quickly vetoed (He was getting free milk from time to time, but at least I was making him come to my barn to get it. ). The next thing I knew, he hopped onto one knee and popped the question. To this day, I have no idea what he said because in my head all I could hear was Charlie Brown's teacher's voice, but I said yes anyway, and the wedding planning began.
For those of you who haven't known us for our entire lives, Grant and I have known each other since we were 5 and 6 years old. He was even my boyfriend for a minute in middle school and took me to the fair. He claims he kissed me but I only remember holding his hand and staring at his deformed pinkies (they are C-shaped). Somehow we never made it to an official relationship until I ran into him at a dance recital after we both divorced. Anna Claire and my niece were in dance class together. I saw him sitting behind me and my sister-in-law told me he had also recently gotten a divorce. I decided he would be a great "break-in" date since I had been friends with him for decades and I was rusty at dating after almost 13 years with the same guy. When I left the recital, I stopped and spoke to him, caught up for a minute, and told him to call me sometime. I walked out all excited thinking, "Yeah, I still got it!" and went home and waited for the phone to ring….and waited….and waited. Finally, three days later, I'm thinking to myself, "Heck, my kids will be back in a couple of days. Either I call him now (Which, to me, is the equivalent of giving up my Southern Belle card and becoming something worse than a Democrat- I would be a FEMINIST!!!!), or I don't go out for another week. I swallowed my Scarlett O'hara attitude and dialed his number. When he answered the phone, I basically said, "Well, you didn't call, and my kids are coming back, so if you want to go out it's now or never." We set the date for the following night.
While I was getting ready for our date, another guy called and wanted to meet for drinks. I told him I'd meet him at 9:30-10:00 (in case I needed a Plan B). Since I was familiar with Grant's style, preppy and well-groomed, I dressed in a cute sundress and sandals and sat down to wait for a knock at my door….and waited….and waited. 45 minutes later, he arrived at my door in a t-shirt with a gecko on the front, tan painter's pants, and mandals!!! Between his wardrobe choice and punctuality, I was convinced that Plan B was a good call on my part. We went down to his car and I had to move piles of papers out of the seat so I could even get in the car. We went to Vanellis and while we were waiting for a table, I started quizzing him. You see, I decided when I divorced, there was no reason to waste my time dating a guy that wasn't up to my marriage standard. Even if the "it factor" wasn't there, at least the candidate would be worth a try. I didn't want to fall in love with another man that could never be what I wanted from life. I made a list of what I wanted and didn't want, and proceeded to grill him. We rapid fired back and forth, things like 'how long have you had your job?' how often do you attend church?' how many drinks do you consume per week on average?' 'what is the amount of your total debt excluding your home?'- You get the idea.
The quiz continued into the morning. About 3 a.m. we decided to call it a night. We literally talked for 7 hours straight. I walked him to the door and he said good night and walked down the sidewalk. About halfway to his car, he turned around and came back and gave me a quick, simple kiss, and walked away again. I was hooked right then and there. Come to find out, he was late because he went and bought that outfit off a mannequin at Old Navy because his clothes were all preppy and he didn't think that was what people wore 'these days' and he wanted to be 'hip'. We power dated for 4 months. We were together every minute of every day except for bedtime. At bedtime, we were on the phone until 2-3 in the morning and I had to be at work at 7. We were literally living on love because we rarely ate or slept those four months. During the forth month, I started looking at houses to buy. He went into panic mode. In both our minds, we knew where the relationship was headed, but for some reason, I wanted a house. He suggested moving in together, which I quickly vetoed (He was getting free milk from time to time, but at least I was making him come to my barn to get it. ). The next thing I knew, he hopped onto one knee and popped the question. To this day, I have no idea what he said because in my head all I could hear was Charlie Brown's teacher's voice, but I said yes anyway, and the wedding planning began.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
It's All Hearts and Flowers Until Lettuce Shows Up On A Taco
I ran through Taco Bell to grab supper the other night. I ordered tacos for Ben with meat and cheese only. I pulled to the window and when the lady handed me the bag, I pulled a taco out and asked her, "Are you sure these are meat and cheese only?" She said they were, so, against my better judgment, I pulled off without opening the wrapper. When Ben opened the bag, lo and behold, the tacos weren't meat and cheese only. Instead of taking them back, he looked up the number and called Taco Bell. He asked to speak to the manager and told him about the taco catastrophe (at least that's what it feels like at my house when an order is wrong) and told him that, rather than making yet another trip to the store, he would be in the following day for a replacement order and gave them his name. The manager replied, "Well, you don't have to be a jackass about it." Ben said, "Way to be professional, Taco Bell Manager, I'm on my way." He and Anna Claire headed out the door to Taco Bell. Being the Mother of the Year and all, I yelled out, "Remember, you're not a minor anymore, so don't go to jail!" (Somehow that's replaced 'Love you, be careful' when my kids go out the door.)
About 30 minutes later, the kids roll back in the driveway. Anna Claire burst through the door laughing hysterically and proceeds to giving me play by play about the Taco Bell BrooHaHa. Here it goes…..
Setting: Taco Bell
Time: Tuesday night
Characters: Ben- the hostile customer
Anna Claire- the amused pot stirrer
Manager- the guy who has to listen to people gripe about lettuce 40 hours a week
As the curtain opens, the audience sees Ben standing at the Taco Bell counter.
Ben: I need to see the manager.
Manager: What can I help you with?
Ben: I'm the guy you just called a Jackass.
Manager: Huh?
Ben: I'm the guy you just called a jackass on the phone.
Manager: Sir, I don't know what you are talking about. I didn't call you a jackass, but if you keep cussing you're going to have to leave.
Ben: I'M going to have to leave? YOU"RE the one that started it by called me a jackass.
Manager: Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about. I haven't talked to you or anybody else and haven't called anyone a jackass.
Ben: Oh, really? Then why is your number on my recent call list? (Ben pulls the phone out of his pocket with a flourish and scrolls through the call log. He then turns the phone around and puts it up to the manager's face.) See that right there? It says 844-xxxx. Now what have you got to say?
Manager: That's the phone number for the OTHER Taco Bell.
Anna Claire: Ben, give me the keys so I can get back in the truck because I don't want anybody to see me in here with you.
Ben: Huh……..My bad. I messed up, Man. I'm sorry for all this, but we're all good if you didn't call me a jackass.
Manager: It's cool. I'll give you some tacos anyway.
Ben goes back to his truck, tells Anna Claire to get out of the floorboard, and leaves the store, new tacos in hand.
End scene.
When I asked Ben if he was happy that he embarrassed his sister and himself, he replied, "Oh, I wasn't embarrassed. I just messed up. Got tacos with meat and cheese only anyway, so it's all good, AND now, thanks to me, you have a great story for your blog."
About 30 minutes later, the kids roll back in the driveway. Anna Claire burst through the door laughing hysterically and proceeds to giving me play by play about the Taco Bell BrooHaHa. Here it goes…..
Setting: Taco Bell
Time: Tuesday night
Characters: Ben- the hostile customer
Anna Claire- the amused pot stirrer
Manager- the guy who has to listen to people gripe about lettuce 40 hours a week
As the curtain opens, the audience sees Ben standing at the Taco Bell counter.
Ben: I need to see the manager.
Manager: What can I help you with?
Ben: I'm the guy you just called a Jackass.
Manager: Huh?
Ben: I'm the guy you just called a jackass on the phone.
Manager: Sir, I don't know what you are talking about. I didn't call you a jackass, but if you keep cussing you're going to have to leave.
Ben: I'M going to have to leave? YOU"RE the one that started it by called me a jackass.
Manager: Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about. I haven't talked to you or anybody else and haven't called anyone a jackass.
Ben: Oh, really? Then why is your number on my recent call list? (Ben pulls the phone out of his pocket with a flourish and scrolls through the call log. He then turns the phone around and puts it up to the manager's face.) See that right there? It says 844-xxxx. Now what have you got to say?
Manager: That's the phone number for the OTHER Taco Bell.
Anna Claire: Ben, give me the keys so I can get back in the truck because I don't want anybody to see me in here with you.
Ben: Huh……..My bad. I messed up, Man. I'm sorry for all this, but we're all good if you didn't call me a jackass.
Manager: It's cool. I'll give you some tacos anyway.
Ben goes back to his truck, tells Anna Claire to get out of the floorboard, and leaves the store, new tacos in hand.
End scene.
When I asked Ben if he was happy that he embarrassed his sister and himself, he replied, "Oh, I wasn't embarrassed. I just messed up. Got tacos with meat and cheese only anyway, so it's all good, AND now, thanks to me, you have a great story for your blog."
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