Secret Conversations at Lacrosse

I wish I had had a visual record of every lacrosse game that PPP has played, with my commentary. I do. Wish that.

Nope, I was lying. I don't wish that.

I like this part. They line up and say "Good game! Good game! Good game!" and they say it even when the game has been horrible and unfair and wicked. Also they are hoping that no one has spit on her hand. That stuff I like. PPP and our Young Son aren't lacrosse All Americans, but they just have so much fun playing the game. It's really fun to watch.

And I do love to have compelling and uplifting conversations with the other parents during the games. The MANY games we go to each and every week.

Filmster: What's your Young Son's name? Isn't it something like Edward ? Cullen? I can't quite remember. Does he actually PLAY in lacrosse games?

Me: Bleh, bleh, mumble, mumble...stunned into silence. I don't multi-task as well as I might, and am easily stunned into silence by...well, you know, unexpected questions. Phrased unexpectedly.

Filmster: (into the camera) That was a bad call. Reffing is terrible. (to me) Oh, but does he ever actually PLAY?

Me: Do you think I sit in the freezing rain, the horrible cold drinking nasty hot chocolate just to watch Big Russ play? Though Big Russ is pretty awesome.

Filmster: Well, does your Brutus actually play? Maybe he's on the JV team? (Into the camera) Not my PreshBabe's fault! Way to go Babe!!!!! (Really loud, Babe can hear)

Me: Do you think I sit in the beautiful afternoon sunlight with my friends, chatting away awaiting Babe's breathless arrival to see Big Russ play, because...

Filmster: (into the camera) Not Babe's fault. Dirty Shot! Shake it off Babe! (to me) So, your young Son, what's his name? Emil? He does stuff like keep score? Is he on the practice team? Run the clock, Blow the horn? What is it? Francis? Me: NO, actually he plays. PPP does the clock and the horn.

Filmster: JV though, not on the real team? (to the camera) Somebody else didn't give good coverage! Good move, Babe!

Me: Yes, on the JV. He's like a water boy. Sometimes they let him wash the dirty socks. The socks of Big Russ. (Is that the right answer - the one that will make this end?)

Filmster: Way to go Babe...Yeah, that's what I thought. What's his name again? Otto?
Even though I don't have a visual record of every game PPP has played, I do have a visual record of....well, you know. Interesting stuff.

How to buy the perfect wedding dress

Way back in December, we went shopping. It's a special privilege of my glam life as a Wedding Planner. It was the week of finals for this Pretty Bride, so her mom and I took a road trip, since she lives in Big D, and we live in little m. More cool glam stores there. All we did was eat and shop. Pretty glamorous! OH - and I got to spend the night all by myself in thoroughly clean-ness and absolute silence. Spectacular road trip, and all I had done so far was check-in. They must have known I require a lot of pillows! A matched set of pillows standing at attention across the bed. And the pristine quiet. I was so stunned by all of it, especially the little marching pillows, that all I could think to do was take a picture. Who does that? Who looks through her pictures and find images of hotel rooms?

Pretty Bride had pre-shopped all fall. In fact 'the dress' was the first dress I saw her try in early October, on a different wedding-dress-shopping road trip. It was perfect then, and the standard to which all further dresses were measured. All 264 more that she tried on, including this dress several times. Several times. It's my experience that when that Perfect Dress is located, there is no turning back. Not too many girls debate once they have found THE dress. Compare, yes. Doubt? Not so much.

So...we shopped that weekend in December. At one store. I had called ahead and made sure that the potential "Perfect Dress" was going to be in the Bridal Salon. Our Pretty Bride brought a friend, which is only fair, since her mom had brought a friend, which would be me. The friend brought coffee, and I spent a good bit of the morning wishing I had brought coffee too. Oh well, the fear of spillage on the wedding dresses haunts me. Coffee + wedding dresses + stores = not me.

Those clips on the back are covered with a vinyl coating, so as not to snag a delicate dress. They look like they come from Home Depot. Because in fact, they DO come from Home Depot. Did you want to know that? That gorgeous special princess dresses can be made to appear to fit using carpentry tools from Home Depot?

Next step is to try on another dress that you are absolutely NOT going to buy, what with the dark jeweled affair crawling down the shoulder. Try on another to walk around in for comparison. Just one more try on....just one more to be sure. Then, stop trying on.

Being in the wedding salon is a luxurious experience. It's enough to make a girl feel like a princess. Princess I believe is the effect we're going for.Moms take pictures. Why else did you bring your mother for such a momentous and costly purchase? The costliness maybe? No, pretty sure it's the pictures.

Months later, when my own Pretty Pretty Princess was standing at the door with a gigantic brown box in her hand...
Mom was surprised! Delighted! Thrilled! Relieved!Honestly, it's kind of anticlimactic -for a teensy minute - when the packaging is a regular brown box, without a hint of what's inside. It's the same size as a lawnmower box or a table lamp box. What if we had opened it and found a table lamp inside the plain brown box? When our Pretty Bride came home, she thought SHE was the one with gifts in hand - since she came home bearing Mother-of-the-bride dresses for Mom to try on. Surprise! Not a lawnmower. Not a table lamp.
Yes, we do, we do indeed think it's the most beautiful dress in the world. And elegant. And even prettier than you remembered from way back in the winter, the week of finals.Sorry, I'm not showing The Perfect Dress yet. Just the smiles.
How do I know it's THE dress, The Perfect Dress? In my professional opinion? I look for this moment...the moment when Mom wipes her tears in her daughter's hair, as she watches her girl transform herself into a bride.