Not really

Okay we are just not even going to go near the weight loss thing today. I might jinx what may or may not be occurring, so let’s just not even talk about it kay? Besides, I am too stressed out to think about dieting right now – the boy’s Christening is in T-4 days and there is so much to do I can’t even think about it all or my head might explode.

It seems that no matter what BT and I do, the universe is working against us. I swore I was going to spend the entire last weekend shopping for an outfit and buying and assembling centerpieces, favors and placecards. (No, it’s not a big fancy affair, I am just trying to add my special crafty touch to things and as usual I’ve bitten off more than I can chew). I got absolutely nothing done. It seems as though before I knew it I was standing in my pajamas in my bedroom at 11pm on Sunday night thinking “What the hell just happened?”.

I went shopping for an outfit. I went to the big fancy mall around here and tried on every outfit that could even pass for presentable for the most important day in my son’s life. I hated everything (see scale smashing post for a clue as to why). Finally I ended up in Nordstrom’s, a store I usually don’t do well in because of the limited inventory in my *ahem* size. Thereupon I met Gila, the Russian Dress Nazi who said, when I told her of my quest, “Do you have faith? Yes? I get you perfect dress. Come”. I tried on everything she gave me, and together we looked and scratched our chins and decided. Too short. Too busy. Too fancy. Too casual. We were approaching desperation mode when I came to a linen suit thing that I picked up only because I saw a young trendy thing exclaiming how *cute* it was. Yes, but probably not on me. I left it for last. It had white buttons down the front. I hate buttons. I put on the white linen skirt. Hmmm…not bad. Flares out nicely and that embroidery is pretty cool. Let’s try this ugly jacket. Oh hey, it’s fitted. And sucks me in, in all the right places. I open the door for Gila. “Not bad, right?” She raises her eyebrows. “This is the dress”. Yay me!

Only problem is, it was a taaaaaad tight. I needed the next size. Guess what, they didn’t have the next size up. They needed to order it and have it shipped to me. It should be waiting for me at home, so keep your fingers crossed that it still looks fabulous in the next size. So I sort of have a dress but not really.

For the favors, I bought some very inexpensive votive candles and I am wrapping them with some Vellum that has a very cool poem that I stole from somewhere…”God leads the way, day or night, with this candle for you to light. On the flicker of the flame, please say a prayer in Seamonkey’s name” It then has his name and the date of his baptism. Cool, right? Well I needed to make a template for them because the votive is curved and a rectangle doesn’t sit right on it. So I stayed up late designing this template and the font matches the font on our invitations (oh REMIND me to show you the fabulous invitations that Julie made! FABULOUS). I went to the craft store and bought the vellum. I printed them all out. I sit down and start cutting them all out and about halfway through my husband comes in and says “Um…do you know you have the wrong date on these?” I had the wrong date. On all of them. I am an idiot. I had to throw out all the paper. I realized this at 6:30 on Sunday evening. I race to the local craft store before they close at 7. They are out of the Vellum. I want to cry. So I sort have favors but not really.

For the placecards I am just going to print the names and table out on white Vellum and glue it to blue cardstock. I design the template for these and figure out the seating arrangements. We are having about 75 people and that is all immediate family – damn Italians. I ask BT for the seating chart for the hall, a Knight’s of Colombus of which my husband is a member. “What do you mean?” he says. You know, the chart that says where table one is so I can make sure we put the right people near each other and the kids close to the DJ. “Oh. I didn’t get that”. So I sort of have placecards but not really.

The centerpieces are flowers that we ordered really cheap in buckets we got from IKEA. We have to pick them up on Friday and assemble ourselves. So I sort of have centerpieces but not really.

Did I mention I only have four days left? Did I mention that a few obnoxious people still didn’t RSVP and that I don’t have shoes yet?

I sort of think things will be fine, but not really.