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I am so ready for the WEDDING to be here. In the meantime, here’s something to share. It’s Elizabeth and her cousin Joelle, circa 1989. It’s almost as if they knew what the future would hold:
I’m seeing a family resemblance here…
Jay at age 12 or so.
Elizabeth, my 20something.
It’s really a very sweet post by Elizabeth, about why she can never read my books.
I’m not quite sure how to say this, so I’ll be blunt. Does anybody actually dream about being mother of the bride?
Nearly every woman I know has dreamed of being a bride. But the bride’s mother? That’s kind of like getting stuck with Midge (the sidekick) while playing Barbies. It’s also sure to mess with your denial about being old enough to actually have a daughter who’s getting married. A new generation has come along, and here you thought you were the young generation. You didn’t even notice the runner behind you, reaching out to pass you the baton.
If you’re like me, the mother of an adored and indulged girl, you remember every single minute. You remember what her toddler voice sounded like when she laughed. You remember the little-girl smell of her, and dresses that were too expensive but you bought them anyway because you just had to see her in that adorable smocked pinafore. You remember the feel of her tiny–usually sticky–hand in yours as you took her into unfamiliar situations: A swimming pool. Kindergarten. The IMAX. A petting zoo. Her first piano recital. The dentist. You remember the victory dance she did to celebrate accomplishments from winning a race in a swim meet to learning cursive writing. You remember laughing so hard your sides ache, and holding her when she cried, willing to trade your soul to keep her from hurting. You remember how much she loved goodnight kisses, how much she hated black olives, and how very sure she was that you would always be the center of her world.
And then, before you know it, and this poised and accomplished young woman appears–seemingly out of nowhere–with a young man at her side. And not just any young man. The young man. Prince Charming. The forever guy. They have Big News. They can’t wait to tell you. Turns out Prince Charming has even been conspiring with your husband, arranging the surprise proposal, the whirlwind romantic weekend, start of plans that are about to consume you for the next twelve months.
All right, so you’re not the center of her world anymore. You’re the Mother of the Bride. Even the phrase itself makes you sound old. But here’s a secret–this is way too much fun. As Mother of the Bride (in e-mail, I’ve already shortened it to MOB), you get to be like the bride’s best friend, except with bigger hips and more money. You get to go dress shopping, knowing it’s not you who will have to fit into that teensy boned bodice. You kick back, sip your latte and page through style magazines while your daughter agonizes over every little decision. The baton has been passed. And that’s not a bad thing.
Susan’s first book was published by Zebra in 1987, and since then she has been published by Avon, Tor, HarperCollins, Harlequin, Warner (Grand Central) and Mira Books. Unable to completely abandon her beloved teaching profession, Susan is a frequent workshop leader and speaker at writers’ conferences, including stints with the literary institution Field’s End and the legendary Maui Writers Conference. Her novel The Charm School was voted one of RWA’s Favorite Books of the Year. She is the proud recipient of three RITA awards for Lakeside Cottage, Lord of the Night and The Mistress, and is often a finalist for the prestigious award. Her books appear regularly on numerous “Best Of” and bestselling lists.
Susan enjoys many hobbies, including sitting in the hot tub while talking to her mother on the phone, kickboxing, cleaning the can opener, sculpting with butter and growing her hair. She lives on an island in the Pacific Northwest with her family.
Thanks to the Wedding Planners for the guest blog!