the best damn ringbearer in the world

For those of you who are wondering how my brother’s wedding went this weekend--the wedding in which I was a bridesmaid, P was a groomsman, and baby-j a ringbearer--well... suffice it to say that the rings were not well-borne.

But for those who wish more detail: baby-j screamed in my arms going down the aisle at the beginning of the ceremony, then screamed again in P’s arms exiting the church. Apparently he was calm during the actual ceremony, when he played in the kids’ room downstairs with P. That makes 2 weddings and a funeral that P has missed this year as a result of baby-j. I think we’ll wait until he’s about 8 to take him to another one of the former.

But there were sweet moments this weekend, too, like hanging out with baby-j in the air-conditioned limo Hummer (that’ll be the last time you’ll ever read that prepositional phrase on this blog), reading stories to him and my mom. Bopping him every 20 seconds on the head with the ringbearer’s pillow prompted all sorts of fun hysterical giggles. My new sister-in-law looked absolutely radiant, and being a bridesmaid got me up close on the altar to see my brother pushing back the happy tears at the ceremony. With the exception of our clearly-not-wedding-party-material-family, everything else, including the weather, conspired to make a lovely day. And once baby-j was finally passed out on the floor of the country club bridal room, P and I had a good time at the reception. In shifts, of course.