Let's talk about being a MEMBER OF THE WEDDING party - specifically, the clothes for the actual wedding and what to do about it 5 months out. Being in the wedding is more than just going to fabulous parties, though there have been some pretty fabulous parties. The bride and groom get to pick what the wedding party will wear in the wedding. The picking itself is an adventure. Because I am a wedding planner, I know this stuff. Really, really well. I know it thoroughly, if not more than that.
Once the picking is done, the wedding party members send their measurements, and the correct attire is ordered. It's altered shortly before the wedding, so that everything is perfect. That's what we are going for - PERFECTION on the wedding day.
So - here are some guidelines. If I were being harsher, I might call them rules. But I'm not. Guidelines though, not suggestions.
2. Alterations? Ladies, the dresses can be shipped to me (and you got the instructions) or you, and will be altered to fit just you. If you don't know an alterations person, I will help you find one. That would be me doing the finding, the Wedding Lady. Gentlemen, send in your measurements, then the tuxes will get a personal fitting when you get here the actual weekend of the wedding. That will NOT be me, but the tux people.
For example, (as in you don't have to have these particular shoes) these shoes are pretty plain, silvery, and cost $19.99 at Rack Room. And PPP got a lot of mosquito bites on her trip to Mexico. No dyed-to-match shoes for girls on this go-round.Gentlemen, yours will be black tux shoes from the tux place - on the little form, fill that shoe-size box in. You will need black dress socks (not black athletic socks). No Converse All-Stars. No loafers with no socks. Not this time. 
Look at those straps on that pretty blue dress - looks like a halter doesn't it? 
Fooled you! Straps in the back too, though not regular ones. The back is low. Plan accordingly, with the wide variety of strapless or changeable strap configurations out there in 'ladies lingerie.' None of that visibility we have going on up there. 
5. Remember, the camera is everywhere. Consume accordingly.
6. Don't you hate a crooked bow tie? A brightly colored vest or trendy looking formal wear? No "trendy" and no "edgy" for Chili, he's about as traditional as it gets. 
Chili's bride is concerned about that crooked faux-bow tie. Self-tie black silk will be the order of the day, it will come with your tux - you have roughly five months to master the art of the bow tie. Or not. We'll have a bow tie specialist on site and ready on wedding day.
7. Get yourself measured. Do it today. Don't guess. Actually measure. It's a proven system that works. Today, measure TODAY. Guys, you can usually walk into any tux shop in any town with your little slip of paper and they will measure you, just because you asked. Ask nicely.
8. Don't you hate it when a tux shirt is thin and just...thin? Gentlemen, let's solve that problem by planning to wear a plain white tee-shirt beneath the tux shirt, though NOT a tee-shirt imprinted with the slogan from homecoming weekend, 2004 - Go Dawgs! or something fraternity-esque.
Lacrosse summer league is so relaxed. 
Twice a week all summer, young men show up to play summer lacrosse.
And 
Summer lax starts and ends like this: a bunch of guys slinging lacrosse gear all over the track. Fans wandering around in the sparsely populated stands. Looking for shade. In the summer, younger sibs can run up and down the stairs, climb on the seats, crawl in and out the rails. The stands won't be sparsely populated in a month, so the youngest do all that clambering in another place.
Get into the right shoes. And make some jokes about something.
J-Rut is working the elbow pads. We'll see lots of these boys in heavier and hotter football pads, in about a month. The heat will still be oppressive and muggy.
Everyone who shows up to play summer lacrosse begins by lining up midfield. Guys come from different schools. One day you may play against a guy you play with the rest of the year. Another day ... same team with a brother who is your enemy the rest of the year. Every time the teams are different. There is NO LOYALTY in summer league.
When you get to wear a red COACH shirt, like Coach Ron here, you get to tell people what to do and where to play and who is on what team. Also, whether you wear the blue side or the white side of the jersey. Occcasionally he yells all that. "Yell" is the operative word.
The playing starts. Just so you know, it's really, really hot.
And...... boys and their phones.
Well, moms and phones, too.
A little time for conversation. Always.
And for watching the action.
Mr. T. is always there. His son, Big Russ, can be full of suprises.
What is Big Russ doing HERE, playing goalie?
Doing this? He doesn't play with that kind of stick, usually.
Big Russ is supposed to be down here, doing this.
I know that look. I saw that look in carpool line after a long hard morning in Junior Kindergarten. I saw that look when she caught sight of us in the audience for MayDay dance thing in second grade. I saw that look at the end of Kamp. I've seen that look at the end of a long night out with friends, or after a really hard exam. It's the look that says "MOMMEEEEE!"
So.... Matty's wondering, is MINE out there?
Indeed she is. Let's see who else is in this hot parking lot . . .
Hey girls! Seeing some signs of tired....yes, tired it is.
So, all the lax girls are accounted for. Nobody's wasting time getting back to the world of text messaging. Is it just me, or is MJ wearing a sweatshirt? It was a solid 110 degrees on that parking lot.
Little Bear is looking happier. No fierce glare for the camera? 
We spend some serious time milling around in this parking lot.
Is that tired and happy? Tired and relieved? Tired and more tired? Thanks, guys.
Here's another happy Mama! Conversation with eye contact, too
I KNOW she's looking to make sure the Passport is in there. 
So, Little Bear has stories to tell our Young Son. Football workout in the morning, Little Bear? Right...sure...absolutely. Not.
Even the Pretty Pretty Princess gets tired. 
That yellow light in all that white soap kind of makes you think of an egg yolk. Cool, right? No. Not cool. The car + me in the carwash at 7:11 a.m - not cool at all. I should have been drinking delicious Community coffee and preparing for my meeting. Was it in my plan to wash BigB's car at 7:11 AM? NO. I was there because some pitiful punk somebodies (or a large urban chicken) deposited a dozen eggs on this car in the wee hours of the morning.
The yellow is goopy egg yolk all down in the workings of this car. These days, the soap at the self-serve car wash is color-coded. Pink for the foam brush, yellow for the bug cleaner, purple for the spotless-dry finish. I was hoping that 'bug cleaner' would also serve as 'egg cleaner.' SURPRISE! I got the foam brush, evidently pink. If you look closely at the first picture you will see the PINK foam gushing out of the brush, while it's hanging on the wall. . . not washing the car. As it happened, regardless of the color of the soap, I ended up picking yolk and shell off with my fingernail.
And here is an egg shell still on the driveway. My FIRST thought, at 6:40 this morning was that perhaps a huge chicken had nested in a tree above the car and thrown all her eggs out in a fit of chicken-fury. Seriously, that is how unfathomable it was that a dozen eggs were splattered all over the driveway and the car. And we have 5 children in and out of here regularly. 3 of them are under 21. I was trying to make sense of a chicken nested in a tree in suburbia, having a fit and tossing her eggs. I could see that in my head. THAT made sense to me. Sort of. No, actually A LOT.
