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Weddingbee Blog
Dear Ladies (and Dad),
How are you? I am fine. I have been very busy. I have missed you. Have you missed me?
I have been a married lady for exactly four months! Where has the time gone? It has been so long since I posted. I was so excited after the wedding to have my life back. No more projects, no more phone calls to vendors and no more wedding obsession. I was completely unprepared for going back to “real life”. I had put off doing so many things pre-wedding that it felt like it all came crashing down around me post-wedding. My house looked like a ribbon/burlap bomb had gone off. Laundry seemed like it hadn’t been done in months. My email inbox was in complete disarray. I had a whole closet of chalkboard paint and card stock. Don’t even get me started on all the wedding stuff I brought back from Cape May! And I had a huge pile wedding gifts that I had to find a home for in the house somewhere.
Not to justify my behavior but another reason I was gone so long was that it is kind of hard to look back. Don’t get me wrong, I loved, loved, loved my wedding but now I am sad that it is over. I guess I had a touch of the post wedding blues.
Having just now crawled out from under all the things I put off, I am ready to start posting again! I can’t wait to start my recaps and share all the wedding goodness with you. We finally booked our honeymoon and I am so irrationally excited. Want a hint?
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After I had reached a decent level of calm, I was able to focus in on the remainder of the rehearsal. Now, at the risk of sounding like a bratty control freak, I had some very clear ideas about the details of our wedding ceremony. I was willing to relent on some, like surrendering my preference to have the groomsmen enter via the side of the church and have the bridesmaids process solo. However, there were other details that I wasn’t as eager to yield on, and, unfortunately, my “don’t mess with me” attitude on these details was aired for all to see. Allow me to explain.
The priest scooted all pertinent parties to the back of the church to work on the processional. We paired everyone up and set the order of the various grandparents, parents, and bridal party members. Mr. Snow Cone and I had sorted out each honored guest’s escort—we aimed to have family walk with family to make it comfortable for all involved individuals. So, it’s easy to understand my minor discontent when our carefully crafted processional was met with a bit of hesitancy from the priest. Specifically, when he asked who would be escorting Mr. Snow Cone’s mom down the aisle, I responded by saying that Mr. Snow Cone’s dad would be (doesn’t that make just a lovely image? A married couple, parents of the groom, walking hand-in-hand down the aisle to watch their son say his own vows? There’s a method to my madness, I swear).
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Before we knew it, we had spent the better part of the day visiting with our bridal party, and it was time for the rehearsal. Let me be upfront about something: punctuality isn’t always my strong suit. With that being said, I like to be responsible for my own tardiness, as opposed to being late because of others’ actions. I get majorly anxious whenever I’m forced to run late to something that is of high priority to me. I would consider our wedding rehearsal to be a great example of this phenomenon. I had gotten ready with the perfect amount of time to spare, but we weren’t able to hit the road as early as I would have liked because we had a caravan full of people with us. With that many bodies looking for a missing shoe, grabbing one last swipe of lip gloss, or running a straightener one final time, it’s inevitable that you’re going to be late. I felt out of sorts because I was running late to my very own rehearsal.
I let out a big sigh once we got to the church, or, at least, I tried to. Instead of being relieved that we had arrived and could get this show on the road, I was inundated with more reasons to worry. Namely, I walked through the doors to the church to find about 25 people all looking expectantly back at me and one person even announced “Wow, everyone beat you here!” It definitely didn’t help my stress level. I couldn’t even process what was going on, and then I was all of a sudden being told to go up to the altar to meet with the wedding coordinator, who then proceeded to ask me for my unity candle and a sample wedding program… neither of which had ever been mentioned as “must-haves” for the rehearsal. I embarrassingly told her that I had neither, to which she responded with a “Well, um, that’s OK. We’ll just have to make do, I suppose.”
Perfect, thanks for that vote of confidence.
I returned to the pews, where everyone else had assembled, and officially felt like I had earned the title of “Most Disorganized Bride Ever.”
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There have been lots of photos of the ladies getting ready, and I admit that I was a bit of a photographer hog, but I promise it wasn’t my fault.
If I learned anything from our morning, it’s to have a designated place for the men to get ready that has been run by everyone involved.
We planned on the boys getting shaves in the morning, then coming back to the Baconator’s mom’s room to get ready and have photos ops. Apparently we never ran this past his mom, so when he and the guys got to her room with tuxes in tow, his whole family was in the room and there was no place for them to get dressed. With no space to change, he and the guys went to his dad’s room instead…but the second shooter didn’t know that and found only family members when she arrived in MIL Bacon’s room and no one gave her directions on how to find the guys. FIL Bacon’s room number was a mystery and for some reason we didn’t make the appropriate phone calls to figure out where they guys were and suddenly it was time for the tea ceremony.
So, there are no adorable photos of the guys putting on cuff links or snapping on the rental ties or tying their embroidered sneakers. Instead, we only have a handful of post-tea ceremony shots of them eating lunch and the Baconator prancing down the hallway that our photographer managed to sneak in.
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Dearest hive,
The past few months have been a whirlwind, one so intense that I had to take a moment away to get my new life in order. Our wedding has come and gone, I’ve quit my job, moved far away from home, and started coping with a new round of separation for me and my darling husband (husband!).
I’m sorry for being away for so long, I swear I didn’t think I would be gone for more than a few weeks! But I’m back, determined to tackle all the posts I didn’t get to before our big day and then, I’ll jump into our recaps (gulp).
Please accept this sneak peek at our pics, as a token of my affection:
(Image Growing Tree Photography)
You know, because I love y’all and I mean it.
The following morning, Mr. Snow Cone and I spent the first few moments in bed, dopily grinning at each other, asking if the other one could actually believe all of this was happening. Given how stressed out we both had been for the past week, it was such a nice breath of fresh air for both of us to be undeniably relaxed. Once we finally finished basking in our almost-wed lazy glow, we tackled the relatively unglamorous task of schlepping a boatload of cookies and decorations over to Sunnehanna for the reception.
While loading up our little Subaru with container after container of who knows what wasn’t exactly our idea of fun, the end result was definitely worth it—we got the chance to see our reception space set up and partially decorated! I had seen it earlier in the week during a vendor meeting, but this was Mr. Snow Cone’s first time laying eyes on the set-up. He had politely agreed to pretty much any detail-oriented decision I had made during the planning. As a result, I don’t think he had cobbled together much of a vision of the finished product in his head. When we walked into the room, his eyes lit up and he couldn’t stop commenting on how nice everything looked. Our eyes locked and we shared a “holy crap this happening, and it’s happening TOMORROW” sort of moment. Don’t get me wrong, running errands isn’t necessarily the most fun task to take care of during your wedding weekend, but stealing away a few extra minutes with your husband-to-be definitely makes it worthwhile.
Shortly after we got back to the house, a carload of groomsmen pulled up, signaling the arrival of Team Groom. Mr. Snow Cone was eagerly awaiting their arrival; I think their presence really kicked off the wedding weekend in his eyes, as we had spent the bulk of the previous evening with my nearest and dearest. With every new face that arrived, the immediacy of the wedding became more and more defined. Team Groom also came bearing one of the most special wedding gifts we received—a personalized beer!
Photo by BM E
Create the honeymoon of your dreams.
The ladies were done and Mama Bacon was off with my side of the family showing them the city and treating them to lunch, so it was just the five of us in my hotel room to transform me into a bride.
Oh my, this is really happening??
I spent the entire week before the wedding in Johnstown, trying to take care of all sorts of loose ends while Mr. Snow Cone stayed behind in Pittsburgh. More accurately, though, I wrung my hands, wondered how my to-do list would ever get accomplished, and took turns with Mr. Snow Cone having spaz attacks over the phone. To say that I was stressed would be a mild understatement; I was wide awake by 5:00 AM each and every morning, regardless of what time I went to bed the previous night. I was irritable, scatterbrained, and frazzled. It seemed like for every small task I checked off the to-do list, there would two newer, bigger, and badder tasks waiting for me, in addition to a list of questions I needed to answer for family and friends. And, on top of all of that, I was trying my darnedest to take every moment in, enjoy these special last days leading up to the wedding, and reflect on the gravity of the upcoming event.
Despite this unattractive state of affairs, though, I decided that I would work my tush off until my bridesmaids started to roll into town. At that point, all work of the glue stick variety would be done, and I would redirect my attention to work of the social variety. I’m proud to report that I finished my very last small project a whopping 90 seconds before BM E showed up on my front porch. Her arrival in many ways kicked off the wedding festivities; it seemed like after she made her way to Johnstown, our house was welcoming new faces every few minutes, with the anticipation and excitement continually mounting.
Unsurprisingly, the arrival I was most impatiently waiting for was Mr. Snow Cone’s (and, yes, I consider him a vital member of Team Bride). The entire week leading up to the wedding, when I had been doing my best to act like a lunatic, my mom’s calming mantra was always that I would feel better once Mr. Snow Cone arrived. And, boy, was she right. Once he got to Johnstown and we were there together on our wedding weekend, everything had reached a very pleasant status quo. He was there for me and I was there for him, even if neither of us needed or asked for any support. Having him there was all I could ever need.
While I was busy being distracted by my dream dress and finally writing my letter for our Letters of Unity ceremony, the bridesmaids got dressed and put on their finishing touches before helping me put on Big White.
I love this photo of my engagement ring, my something old/blue, my ruby red slippers and my aptly named “Chance” perfume. I cannot say enough about wearing Toms for our whole wedding day—my feet were so happy.
Hello everyone! On Saturday, Mr. Mole and I were married. The day, like the rest of the weekend, was absolutely perfect.
What’s important to point out though, is not everything went absolutely perfectly. Despite my packing list, a garment bag was forgotten. The flowers on our cake didn’t match our color scheme. My bustle took several tries to get right: a process that ended with me taking off the dress completely, helping tie up the ribbons while only wearing my “something blue” thong. (Our absolutely amazing photographer has no photographs of that part of the evening, thankfully.) My dress ended up with a huge tear in the organza along the hem after a highly entertaining walk back from the Venetian to the Wynn.
None of that mattered. None of it. At all. At the end of the day, we were married. We exchanged vows (Mr. Mole’s were amazing). We gave each other our rings. We celebrated with our loved ones. We ate delicious food. We thanked strangers who congratulated us on the Strip. We laughed. We smiled until our faces hurt.
Mr. Mole showing off his new ring; Me showing off Mr. Mole
My dearest hive! I have missed you all so very much! In the chaos of snagging a husband and starting an amazing new job, I realized that despite having nearly everything I’ve ever wanted, something was missing. Perhaps you can deduce what I am getting at here—you all are that something and I cannot wait to share our wedding day with you 
Back on that rainy day in November—in fact, the only day that week with a damp cloud in the sky—my very best friend and I did an amazing and wonderful thing: vowed to grow old together.
We vowed to love each other through good times and bad, to start a family with each other. We promised that, whatever the obstacle, we’d overcome it—together. That, despite my messy quirks and his compulsive cleanliness, we would always make it work…because we not only love each other to the moon and back, but because we respect and value one another. And at the core of it all, that’s what matters most.
As you might remember, I spent hours and weeks and months fretting over my dress decision, so even after picking her up after my final fitting, I was just the teeniest bit anxious that I might have made the wrong decision. But when I woke up that morning and my mom brought the dress down to my room, I knew I had made the right choice. It was my dream dress.
So without further ado, some glamour shots of the one.
Sparks and I decided to go the traditional route and sleep in separate places the night before our wedding. So he stayed in our apartment, and I had to stay in our gorgeous hotel suite…DARN. I headed straight for the room after our welcome party and, honestly, that cab ride was a little nerve-racking for me. I’m not the kind of person who does well when all eyes are on me and, up until that point, Sparks had been constantly by my side taking on half of the attention. I started to have a minor panic attack when I thought about all the people who would be fussing over my hair, my makeup, my dress, etc. the next morning. So I did what any normal person would do: I had a glass of wine and distracted myself by working on my escort cards until two in the morning.
I know that might seem strange to some people, and I really can’t explain it—I was just SO nervous. I didn’t want to sit around having super-duper meaningful talks with anyone, I didn’t want to reminisce about my relationship with Sparks or my last night as a single Sparkler…I just wanted to not freak out. And I think that’s OK.
Before I wrote this, I actually gave myself a pretty hard time for ending the night that way. Maybe I should have had all my bridesmaids in the room for a sleepover, or maybe I should have stayed up all night talking with my sisters or writing Sparks a romantic letter. But that’s just not me. And it’s not what I needed. I needed to put my head down and work on 250 escort cards that I should have done weeks before. I just needed to be alone in my own thoughts for a nanosecond, and try to process what would happen the next day. And I don’t feel bad about it anymore.
Now that we’ve been old married folks for nearly six months (don’t even get me started on how that could be possible!), I suppose I should kick off our recaps! I’m not going to lie—I put off writing my recaps for quite a while, for largely selfish reasons. After the wedding, I developed this largely irrational fear that I would lose memories of the wedding every time I actually tried to sit back and remember it. As a result, I’ve spent the bulk of the time since that glorious August day trying my best to do the equivalent of sprints down memory lane—recalling one very specific detail or one completely general memory, but nowhere in between.
I felt like I had a very fragile grasp on what happened that day, and I wasn’t willing to do anything that could result in me losing something precious. And then, something funny happened. All of the other weddings I saw on blogs or Facebook jogged my memory. It was almost as if by seeing someone else’s bouquet, I developed a clearer memory of my own. It sounds absurd and beyond cliché, but distancing myself from my own wedding by looking at other wedding photos brought me full circle to where I am today, memory-wise. It was the kick in the pants I’ve been needing. I’m finally ready to sit down and dive into the recap process!
I was going to give you a smattering of some of my most favorite pictures of the day, you know, to lure you in for more. And then I realized I probably shouldn’t use “smattering” as code for “over two dozen.” Even though I’m incapable of picking a somewhat reasonable amount of favorites, there is one photo that will always have a special place in my heart.
After our amazing rehearsal dinner, we gathered everyone up and headed over to our welcome party. Most of us decided to walk the short distance to the residential high-rise that our friend Andrew had so generously offered up for our location. It was such a nice night, and I remember crossing my fingers (and my toes, and my eyes…) hoping it would stay that nice for the entire weekend.
Before we arrived, our waiting guests were already enjoying themselves, taking in the view, and catching up with everyone.
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