stop this train

It's hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that nearly three weeks have passed since Charlotte's wedding day. We planned, shopped, cooked, and sewed--anticipating the event for so long (well, six months)--and suddenly it's over.

I loved every minute of Wedding Week. There is very little, if anything, I would change or do differently. Thanks in large measure to the generosity and kindness of so many good friends and dear family members, my daughter's wedding was everything I had dreamed it would be. And Charlotte herself was the most easy-going, easy-to-please bride you could ever hope to meet. The entire experience was everything a wedding should be, and for that I am grateful.

I felt initially overwhelmed at the thought of blogging about it all. But now that both Charlotte and Michelle have done such fantastic jobs of summarizing the event, I'll just link to their blogs and you'll get a great overall feel for the occasion. I'll use my blog to try to record my feelings as a first-time MoB.

First off, I simply must state the obvious and somewhat trite sentiment (though so, so real): it just doesn't seem that long ago that Charlotte was the little girl in this picture, dressed to match her younger sister Emily.

Wood family, circa 1995 (Photos by Karen Rubin)

Thankfully, we did change somewhat after this first official Wood family portrait taken in the early '90's. Denim shirt buttoned all the way to the top--fuchsia striped jumpsuit buttoned all the way up? What was I thinking?!

Wood family, circa 1992 (photo by Karen Rubin)

Somehow, you think that--once you have all your kids--it's like, Ta-dum! This is my family--this is how it will always be. Wood family, circa 1998 (Photo by Barbie Jarvis)

And for a while, it is. School milestones, birthdays, holidays and the like come and go in a rather comfortable, cyclical sort of way.

Wood family, circa 2000 (Photo by Paula Woellhaf)

Yes, hairstyles and clothing trends change along the way, but this is our family: four kids--three girls and a boy. My family will always be this way.

Wood family, circa 2004 (Photo by Paula Woellhaf)

And then, before you're even aware of what is happening, the milestones start getting bigger--graduation from high school, acceptance into college, graduation from college. And before you know it, your little girl in the plaid taffeta jumper is wearing high heels and falling in love.

And here's the thing: I wouldn't want it any other way. She has done everything in the right order--she has a fantastically bright future ahead with limitless possibilities. It's what I really want for her, and yet--just for a moment--I wish I could "Stop This Train, I want to get off and go home again."

Wood family, redefined, October 22, 2010 (photo by Michelle Olivier)

I guess it really is all about defining a new "normal." And, as John Mayer so aptly states, "Don't stop this train, don't for a minute change the place you're in." I wouldn't change a thing.

freedom

the countdown continues

Bake and freeze cakes for Thursday night's family dinner:

Check.

Plan healthy family meals during wedding week:

Check.

Go with Charlotte to jeweler's to have our rings cleaned:

Check.
Enjoy every minute of having Charlotte at home:

Check.

wedding prep checklist, cont.

Three more essentials crossed off of the list:

• One MOB dress, completed and ready-to-wear!

Check.

• One great pair of MOB shoes, worn once or twice to break in:

Check.

• One well-stocked refrigerator for wedding helpers:

Check.

every mother crow

My mother used to say, "Every mother crow thinks her baby is blackest."

Well, I think I'm that mother crow now. After graduating from BYU last April, Charlotte spent the summer interning with LDS Church Magazines in Salt Lake City, working for The New Era (magazine for youth ages 12 - 18). Beginning this month with "A String of Good Examples," her articles will appear in the magazine through February or March of next year.

The internship was a great experience for her; she was able to implement some of her own ideas and was given real writing assignments--not just your typical intern-who-makes-the-copies stuff. I'm so proud of her and have become the overbearing mother who shows the magazine to any captive audience.

Look--her name is in the magazine's masthead!

Yes, I think my baby is blackest.

on a roll

Cross another item off of my wedding preparation check-list:

• Make (and freeze) 26 dozen homemade dinner rolls for reception

Check.

Happy Birthday CJP!

Today is my mother's birthday. She would have been 84. It's hard for me to believe that six months have already passed since her death. This is the first time in twenty-one years that I have celebrated her birthday without her (that's how long we've lived in Denver). But I decided that today should be a day of celebration, and not one of sadness.

My dad and I went to Sam's Club first thing this morning and bought a beautiful bouquet of Fall flowers. We picked up my sister Karen and her husband Daniel and drove to the cemetery to decorate Mother's grave. The day is bright and sunny, with just a hint of Fall crispness in the air.

After taking a few photos at the graveside we went to a favorite place to have breakfast: the Sunrise Sunset Cafe, a mom-and-pop establishment that serves tasty home-cooked goodness. We enjoyed being together and we like to think that Mom would have liked the excursion as well.

Now I'm home for the afternoon and plan to bake a cake in her honor, an idea Emily and I had separately and simultaneously. I still haven't decided what kind for sure, but I'm leaning toward the family favorite of Chocolate Cake with White Mountain Frosting.

This photo was taken one year ago, on her 83rd birthday. I was trying to remember what I gave her for her birthday last year and can't seem to recall. What I have come to realize, however, is that even in death my mother continues to give gifts to me--the gift of her enduring wisdom, wit, and expertise--and most importantly, the gift of her faith in and testimony of Jesus Christ.

Thanks, Mom. I love you and miss you, and am so grateful to know that you're not that far away.