Archive | June, 2011


27 Jun

Pete and I have been super busy over the past two months – traveling for work, moving in together, going to Ireland, getting engaged, having friends in town and going to our friends’ weddings – and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. So needless to say, we’ve barely had a spare moment to think about our own wedding.

Maybe it’s that I really haven’t had any time to start planning our wedding, or maybe it’s just that I’m overwhelmed by all the details I’ll have to plan over the next 12 months, but I haven’t turned into a Bridezilla quite yet.

But, I’m afraid to say, my mother has contracted a severe case of Momzilla syndrome. From my observation, symptoms of Momzilla syndrome include the following:

1) Obsessing over wedding details before, during and after daughter becomes engaged

I saw the first hint of trouble starting the day after Pete and I got engaged. I called my sister Didgie from Ireland and we were talking about the wedding.

“Do you guys think you’re going to get married at Westmoreland (my parent’s country club)?” Didgie asked.

“Yeah, I think so. We really haven’t talked about it that much, but Pete and I both think that would be a really pretty setting.”

“Good,” Didgie whispered into the phone. “Mom really wanted you to get married there. She’s already been looking through the Westmoreland book and picking out the gardens she thinks would be good for a wedding.”

2) Extreme panic over wedding vendors

Since I got engaged (four weeks ago), this is how a typical conversation with my mother goes:

“Hey mom, are you gonna be around on Sunday night? I was thinking about stopping by.”

“Eva, did you listen to that wedding band I told you about yet? We really need to book the band THIS WEEK.”

“Can we talk about it on Sunday?”

“That’s three days away. I really don’t think we can wait that long. The band I wanted is already booked.”

My sisters confirmed that my mom already had a wedding band in mind less than a week after the engagement.

3) Spontaneous displays of giddiness

My mother is normally not easily excited (as a woman who had four kids in six years and worked in a hospital for her entire career, there’s not a lot she hasn’t seen), but there have been at least three times in the past month where she’s said something along the lines of, “I told so-and-so you were getting married AND EVERYONE IS REALLY EXCITED FOR YOU!!!!!!!!” (Her voice just gets louder as the sentence goes on.)

Or, “Your ring is so beautiful and the CUT IS LOVELY AND IT’S SO SPARKLY!!!!!!”

4) Exhibits understanding, generosity, and overall great mom skills

As much as a Momzilla can pressure the bride into planning a wedding, my mom has also been great at keeping me on track, making sure I’m doing everything right, and listening to me vent about all the stress I’m under.

Also, a Momzilla would be great to take to one of those crazy wedding dress sales. She’d just throw some ‘bows and the dress of my dreams would be all mine – at a discount price, of course.


The Engagement Story

19 Jun

Reenactment of the proposal and me taking the ring out of the box

Pete and I are getting married! Yay!

So that’s good. Here’s the engagement story:

We left for Ireland on a Thursday night (it’s a seven hour flight), and arrived in Dublin on Friday morning. We rented a car and drove four hours to the island his family is from on the west coast, called Achill.

We got to Achill at about 3 p.m. and tried to stay awake for the whole day to get adjusted to Irish time zone. By the time we went to sleep at about 11 that night, I was pretty much a scary zombie lady.

And I was definitely a scary zombie lady when Pete woke me up the next morning at 7.

“It’s going to rain in six hours so if we want to see anything today, you have to get up NOW!” he said.

I put up a fight until Pete gave me the ultimate threat.

“I’ll throw water in your face, I swear I’ll do it,” he said.

So I eventually got out of bed, fearing for my life, and we went for a drive to the top of a mountain called Minaun, which overlooks all of Achill and the Atlantic Ocean. The only other living thing crazy enough to be up there except for us was one single sheep.

“Let’s get out and take a look around,” Pete said.

It was windy and cold out so I suggested we just look around from the comfort of the rental car.

“Just for a minute?” he asked.

So I got out of the car and we looked over the edge for a few seconds before I turned around to shield myself from the 50 mph winds.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wind whip a small box out of Pete’s hands and fly. And then I saw Pete running frantically in the same direction.

I had figured out what was about to happen, but because I didn’t know if I was supposed to know what was about to happen, I just stayed frozen where I was, pretending I hadn’t seen Pete run like Chicken Little.

“Turn around for a second Eva,” he said.

So I turned around, and there he was, down on one knee. With a ring in his hand. And all of a sudden he was saying all these nice things about me, and how he really liked me, and I can’t really remember exactly what else he said, but I know it was very sweet. Then he asked me to marry him and tearfully said yes.

Then, I’m not sure why I did this, but I grabbed the ring out of the box and put it on my own hand. I don’t think it’s supposed to go like that, but I just got excited I guess.

The ring, with Minaun and the ocean as the backdrop

We hugged for a long time and then got back in the car, when we called my parents (except my dad was on a plane to Germany at the time and I spent the rest of the day trying to track him down), and his parents, and then hugged again, and I wanted to hug the lone sheep that was staring at us, but I didn’t. And then drove back down the mountain, when we told everyone else.

We drank at his uncle’s pub that night and stayed out until 2 a.m. and didn’t wake up for 13 hours.

It was perfect.