My baby is betrothed. Officially. She has a ring on her finger. Never mind the fact that she is eight years younger than the average age of first marriage for women in our province, currently at age 30. It’s interesting, long lost high school classmates have started calling in disbelief. Two have called to commiserate; having parents who aren’t excited about their impending commitment. One because of his fiancee’s nationality, another because she has only dated her intended for eight months. Throw in our concern about future son in law’s student status, the common denominator is the age factor.
A step in the right direction: I found a great book for mothers of the bride called "It’s her wedding I can cry if I want to." A humorous approach to serious issues. The author says that I have to give up my dreams and let her live hers. When, in your eyes your daughter is too young, even if you’re 75 and she’s 40, nobody is going to fit the bill. Ever.
Reality check: what’s the worst that can happen? It’s difficult letting our kids own their own problems. But once you’re there might as well enjoy the ride. So here I am, the MOB (Mother of the bride) with the MOG (Mother of the groom) discovering bejeweled cowgirl hats at a wedding shop south of the border. I imagine that a few dreams were given up and created at a wedding where they wear these.
And here she is, trying on her future dreams. And look at that wee one from another wedding party in the background of the second shot. Watch out, mama, you’ll get your turn. The knitting content? My DD asked me to knit her a wedding cardigan. She knows how to keep Mom happy.




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