If you missed the previous episodes, click the links at the bottom of this post.

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Recently, I took my children to the park for a photo shoot, wanting one last picture before my daughter’s wedding. It crossed my mind that I would be enduring many lasts before we added another person to our family.

Before things changed.

Not that change is bad, but no matter how you look at it, change is change. It rubs.

My youngest daughter, Janae, realized this weeks ago. When Jessica announced her engagement, Janae was ecstatic about her sister’s news and thrilled at the prospect of dressing up for the event. However, that night when I climbed the stairs to kiss her goodnight, I found Janae in tears, covers pulled over her head. She barely had words to convey her jumbled feelings.

“I’m happy for Jessica, but we won’t get to see her very often.”

“No, but she’ll come to visit, and you can visit her too. Even spend the night at her duplex. Won’t that be fun?”

“But she won’t live here anymore.”

I smiled to myself. Jessica hadn’t truly lived with us in two years. “You’re right. Things are going to be different now, aren’t they?”

“I guess so,” she sniffled.

I should have listened to myself that night.

Apparently Janae did. She bounced out of bed the next morning and hasn’t shed a tear since. Even though I haven’t shed tears, I’ve definitely let the lasts get me down. My natural inclination is to look at things from a negative perspective, but I know this about myself and I fight-fight-fight it.

So I gave myself a shake.

My daughter’s wedding will mark the beginning of a lifelong union that is sure to be remarkable. Why should I fret over all the lasts? Instead I should focus on the firsts. Easier said than done, but I was determined to be chipper.

A few days later, we departed for Disney World which might have been the last family vacation before the wedding except for the fact that Colton was with us, which sort of stretched the definition of “family” in “family vacation.” He’s been on several trips with us before, and as I uploaded hundreds of pictures, I realized I had already started focusing on the firsts, even if subconsciously.

Let me explain.

For the years of Jessica and Colton’s relationship, I’ve taken replica photos. A picture of the five kids at the river, plus one with the five kids and Colton. A picture of the family at reunion, plus one with the family and Colton. A picture of the children with Santa Claus, plus one with the children and Colton.

You get the idea.

I regret the insecurity which I surely conveyed to Big Boy, but this momma required a bit of pictorial insurance lest Precious Daughter decide to shred every photo and delete all the files. (Teenage girls are fickle, you know.)

This vacation was refreshingly different. 

Even though he hadn’t walked down the aisle with Jessica yet, Colton was already part of our family. He was one of us, and I boldly took pictures at Disney World, at Planet Hollywood, at the beach. Yet, not once did I feel the inclination to snap insurance photos.

I included all six of my children every time. And that’s a first.

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This week’s out of context Bible verse:

But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.

Matthew 19:30

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Related Posts

From Teething Ring to Engagement Ring, (in three months or less?)

Finding the Perfect Wedding Dress

What Do You Mean You Want To Marry My Daughter?

DIY Wedding Cake – Like Riding a Bicycle

This week, I’m at Disney World with the hubby, kiddos, and extended family.

I’ll soon be back at the keyboard, continuing the Mother-of-the-Bride Blog Series,

most likely with a post about Jessica moving out of the house,

and my life never being the same again as long as I live. *sniffle*

But in the meantime, I’m enjoying the time away.

What plans do you have for summer vacation?

Me & Mine at the Rainforest Cafe, Disney World

Photo Credit: disneystore.com

Haiku: a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons.

A: the first letter of the English alphabet, a vowel.

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Since I’m busy with wedding/end-of-school/vacation plans, I’m posting a reused poem I originally submitted for a contest over on Rachelle Gardner’s blog. I didn’t win. Possibly because I stretched the definition of haiku? At least I got the syllables right.

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Plot, draft, proof, revise.
Polish, query, pitch, and pray.
PUBLISH! (then repeat)

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..

Used with permission from Debbie Ridpath Ohi at inkygirl.com

Do-It-Yourself

We’re still tweaking the wedding budget here at the Denman’s, and our latest discovery is that a run-of-the-mill wedding cake will cost us three dollars per slice. Hmmm. We’re mailing out two hundred fifty invitations, and that doesn’t include the online shout-outs.

Do the math.

So we’ve opted for cupcakes. Cute, trendy, and oh, so budget savvy. Besides, we MIGHT be able to make them ourselves. A cupcake is a cupcake, right?

But, precious-daughter requested a small cake she can cut with hunky-hubby. Since we’re all about making dreams come true, I’m planning something like this:

(which can be found at The Cake List)

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Can I possibly do this?

Thirty years ago, my decorated (cowboy boot) cake won reserve grand champion in the baked goods division of the Johnson County Livestock Show and Youth Fair. (I was fifteen) Having baked approximately five cakes since then, I’m hoping my decorating talent is like riding a bicycle.

Saturday, I tested my rusty skills.

After watching dozens of how-to videos, I bought a cake mix then started playing with icing. You might think icing hasn’t changed much in thirty years, but you’d be wrong. In my high school home economics class, we mixed up fluffy white stuff to smear on a cake, followed by more fluffy white stuff squirted on top. That is all.

Now there’s fondant. According to my favorite online dictionary, the word is pronounced “fon-duhnt,” or if you’re French, “fawn-dahn.” Not only am I not French, I’m Texan, so I go with the first pronunciation. You decide for yourself.

I’d seen fondant on super smooth cakes and didn’t realize what it was. Turns out it’s nothing more than edible play dough. Squishy and fun. Here’s a recipe for Marshmallow Fondant which is easier than easy.

For the cupcakes, I rolled the fondant with a rolling pin, cut it with a biscuit cutter, and placed a circle on top of each cake. Not too difficult, but I took note: dusting the rolling pin with too much powdered sugar causes the fondant to resemble raw pie crust. (Not generally desired in a cupcake.)

The cake for precious-daughter was a bit more tricky.

I rolled a large batch of fondant, flopped the mess over the cake, and worked out the air bubbles as I smoothed it down. This was not quite as easy as YouTube would have us think, but it was manageable. (I always liked play dough, though.)

When I finished playing with the fondant, I squirted the fluffy white stuff in squiggles which added a bit of character and covered up the mistakes in the fondant at the same time.

The result wasn’t too shabby but definitely better from a distance.

Now that I’ve mastered Fondant 101 . . .

I’m not convinced I’m ready to make a wedding cake. However, I have GREAT appreciation for why they cost three dollars per slice.

Disclaimer:

These ramblings are not intended to be a DIY instructional post. For that, you should click here, here, or here to check out some sites from bakers that actually know what fondant is . . . and how to pronounce it.

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This week’s out-of-context Bible verse:

And you shall eat it as a barley cake, baking it in their sight on human dung. Ezekiel 4:12

(Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

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If you missed the other episodes in the Mother-of-the-Bride Blog Series, check them out here:

From Teething Ring to Engagement Ring (in three months or less?)

Finding the Perfect Wedding Dress

What Do You Mean You Want To Marry My Daughter?

She was my first. My princess. My joy. As she grew into girlhood, we struggled with parenting decisions and made mistakes first-time parents always make. Yet we studied the right parenting books, took the best classes, and we prayed, not only for her, but for you as well.

We chose courtship before she ever met you.

We wanted something different for her. Something easier than dating, with more purpose, more communication, more purity. We settled on the idea of semi-courtship. Our parents thought we were silly. Our friends thought we were nuts. She thought we were over-protective.

So I prayed for God to soften her heart, help her to wait, and prepare a strong Christian man to be her husband.

Then she brought you into our lives.

Since we didn’t know you, we were hesitant. (Okay, that might be putting it mildly). You were the unknown factor who tested our plan, but she was adamant (as you know she can be), so her daddy took you out for “a talk.”

Bless your heart, what a discussion that must have been. He laid out the rules. You would only spend time with his daughter in the company of friends or family. There would be no car dates, no alone time, and (of course) no sex. You respectfully agreed.

I thought you’d get tired of the rules, but I prayed for the best.

At eighteen, her daddy gave her a purity ring.

He slipped it on her finger. A heart of diamonds, with tri-color strands woven through, representing man, woman, and God. The perfect plan for any relationship.

Soon after, you gave her a promise ring, and I wondered how she’d handle it since she wore our ring on her left hand. You, however, told her to wear your ring on her right hand. You said the purity ring was more important. For the first time, you caught my attention.

I was so startled I forgot to pray.

The two of you went to different colleges.

I thought you might grow apart, but you didn’t. Instead, you grew closer. You emailed, phoned, and Skyped. Nevertheless, your world broadened beyond your relationship, exposing both of you to amazing Christian friends, professors, and mentors. (and in your case, coaches)

I prayed the two of you would continue to grow in your relationship, friendship, and spirituality.

Then I asked you a favor.

“Could you pray with her everyday?”

Even though you were a hundred miles apart, you could still pray over the phone, right? You agreed, but I feared I was asking too much. I prayed determination for you, and several months later, I hesitantly asked,

“Are you still praying with my baby girl?”

You ducked your head, smiled your dimpled smile, and said softly, “Yes, I am.”

And I prayed tearfully, thanking God for you.

Now she’s nearing graduation,

and we’re still making parenting mistakes. I’ve tried too hard and loved too harshly, but somehow God heard my prayers.

He raised up a boy who can put up with her tantrums, tolerate my opinions, and follow all the rules in the world. (more or less) You’ve celebrated with us at holidays and rejoiced with us at baptisms. You’re part of our family, and you belong here. Not only are you good for us, but you’re good for her, helping her be a stronger Christian.

So when you approached her daddy, requesting her hand in marriage, I prayed a blessing on you  as he said,

“Of course you can marry my daughter.”

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Related posts in the Mother-of-the-Bride Blog Series (Mob BS):

From Teething Ring to Engagement Ring (in three months or less?)

Finding the Perfect Wedding Dress

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