Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen…

I never wanted to get married. It wasn’t a fantasy of mine. Like, when I was little, I didn’t walk around in a veil made of pillow cases (although, if you tuck a towel behind your ears just right, you can look like Virgin Mary). And I didn’t organize some elaborate ceremony for Barbie and Ken. It just wasn’t my thing.

So, as an adult — an engaged adult — it’s not like I have any dreams, or a real plan, or any preconceived notion that my wedding will be this absolutely perfect, completely flawless thing. I expect imperfection. I plan for the unplanned.

But you really never know how much will not go as planned. I’ll save you the surprise — it’s a bunch.

I’m not going to say anything went “wrong.” I’ll just say that a few things haven’t read straight from a storybook. Instead, they may have been better suited for the highlight reel at the end of the film.



As you know, I put a lot of time and effort into the hand-painted boxes I put together for my bridesmaids. I packaged each piece (hand-painted champagne flute, bottle of bubbly, etc.) into the box all nice and cozy, wrapped it in a bow, and then packaged it again in a much bigger shipping box with the help of UPS, who assured me that my beloved gifts would arrive at their destination safely and promptly.

That was not necessarily the case.

My maid of honor lives in Pittsburgh. She lives on a tiny street where cars jockey for parking with garbage cans, piles of snow and each other. And from what I remember, it’s a semi-high-traffic area, where a lot of younger folk frequent. Not necessarily the sort of place you leave an adorable little pink package on the doorstep.

I worried about sending this package. But I thought, hey, UPS knows more about shipping than I do — they’ve got this. And then, after days of not hearing a peep from my potential MOH, I panicked — at 4 a.m. — and checked the tracking information online. My package had been delivered days earlier, to the wrong address — right house number, wrong street. Probably the most important package I’ve ever sent in my entire life, delivered to someone else.

Thankfully, after a call, it was sorted out and Kim’s package was taken to a UPS Store. She just needed to pick it up. Which she did NOT for a few additional days. So again, I panicked. I wondered if she got it, read my proposal and was then trying to think of a polite way to say “no.”

That, of course, was not the case. She said “yes,” and all was right in the world again.

Now, for Kristi’s package… Like I said, each one included a hand-painted glass and that teeny bottle of bubbly. I had it all planned for weeks. Bought the individual pieces, and painted and packaged each one. And then I received the amazing news that my girl was expecting a little one.

FYI: Sparkling grape juice does not come in teeny bottles.

That’s OK. I worked out with her husband that, upon the package’s arrival, he was going to pull out a bottle of grape juice and explain the snafu. Thing is, Kristi travels quite a bit, so timing was shaky, and it just didn’t go down as this sitcom skit I had laid out in my head. Regardless, she, too, accepted my proposal, so it all worked out.

My final bridesmaid is one I haven’t yet mentioned — my fiancé’s daughter. Who’s 14. And who clearly does not drink champagne from hand-painted flutes (at least, she better not).

I thought about presenting her with the same package as the other bridesmaids, but replacing her champagne with sparkling grape juice. But drinking sparkling grape juice insinuates drinking, in general, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. Maybe I put a little too much thought into that one, but I played it safe and nixed that idea altogether.

So how exactly do you ask a teenager to be part of your wedding party, and have it be memorable? I’ll tell you what I did. And how I failed. And then if any of you come up with a much better, super rad idea, please share. Because teens are effin tough…

My soon-to-be stepdaughter, like every other girl her age, is obsessed with Josh Dun from Twenty One Pilots. (*Parents: He’s the drummer. The one with that hair. The green mop.) So I thought, how cool would it be if JOSH asked her to be my bridesmaid? Brilliant, right?

I found the perfect picture of him — a goofy close-up with a Cheshire Cat grin and a drumstick in his grill. I had it printed true-to-life, and I painted a “Will you be my bridesmaid” sign that I hung with ribbon from the drumstick. It was awesome! Turned out WAY better than expected!


She was going to visit us on a Friday, and my plan was that, when she opened the door to her bedroom — BAM! There he’d be, in his black-and-white glory, holding my super cute, super colorful sign, asking my very important question.

(*Cue the emotional track, slow the film reel for our hug…)

She’d get all excited and squeal. Clap her hands and say, “OMG, thank you thank you thank you! I just LOOOOOVE him!” And then she’d take 4,9723,801 Snapchat photos…

Again, blooper reel. That didn’t happen. In true 14-year-old fashion, she had another obligation she “oh my god, couldn’t miss” (you remember those days), hours away, so the trip was postponed. And I was left with a picture and a phone proposal. Not exactly how I had envisioned, but the result was the same. I got myself a fourth and final bridesmaid, and one I absolutely knew I needed in my Bride Tribe from Day 1.

I also got a few more days with ’ole Josh, and a few Snapchat photos of my own.


These are only a few of the things that haven’t exactly gone as planned, but that all worked out. I’m gathering that this is kinda what wedding planning is all about — a bunch of things that don’t necessarily go as planned, but that still work out in the end. Plus, they make for fun blog posts.


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