Well, I'm just signing in to stamp out any suspicions that I have fled the blogosphere.  I should probably just go ahead and establish that if, at any point from now until fall, I take missing from here for any unusual length of time, it is probably due to some pressing wedding detail that needs my immediate attention.  Currently, we are busying ourselves with the guest list and mother of the bride dress shopping.  I've always heard the guest list is the absolute worst part of planning a wedding and I can now testify to that truth.  I also believe that mother of the bride dress shopping would have to rank as a close second.


So, apparently, it can take anywhere from 2-5 months to receive a dress after you've ordered it and then there are the alterations after that which, according to my calculations, puts me somewhere between having plenty of time and having my dressed hemmed as I walk down the aisle.  In other words, I've got to get serious about this. 


I took a couple of short road trips to look, last week.  On Monday, Michelle and Valerie went with me to Jackson.  Valerie and I were looking for something to wear for our children's weddings and Michelle was there for moral support.  I mean, it's been decades since I've needed a long dress.  I learned something on my first trip back out into formal land.  Formal gowns are not sized like, say, an Easter dress you'd buy at Dillard's.  No, whatever number you would get in a church dress, well, you should multiply that by two.  And if you go shopping the day before your "visitor" comes as I did, well, then you should multiply by 2 and add 3 or 4.  The whole sizing system is designed to keep the mother's cockiness in check and it's quite effective, I might add.   


Well, I'd thrown my Spanx in my purse before I left home but there wasn't enough spandex and nylon in there to hold back the water which I was retaining at that point.  It was like trying to get your sleeping bag back in the little bag it came in.  Sometimes, there's just gonna be some left hanging out the top.  Know what I mean?  So, I came home with something that I liked but I wasn't ready to say "yes" to the dress just yet.


John Samuel's mom, April, and I set out, yesterday, for another attempt.  Smartly, this particular dress shop had strategically placed the Spanx display near the entrance so, while you waited for your name to be called, you had some time for self-reflection to imagine how much more pleasant the whole dress trying on process would be if you just had yourself a pair of those muffin top cinchers.  I decided the fibers in my old pair had been taxed through the years and probably had suffered some deterioration and loss of effectiveness during their time of loyal service so I grabbed a pair of the Spanx Higher Power Short while we waited our turn.  Those, combined with the fact that my "visitor" had left, well, I was feeling like this day in the dressing room would go much better.


Well, it was Saturday and the shop was quite busy.  They only had one dressing room available so April and I took turns.  I went first.  The associate had my dresses hanging in there and I opened my new Spanx box.  I was like a kid on Christmas morning.  A new set of supportive undergarments.  I got the first dress on and opened the door wide enough to stick my head out and motion for April.  I needed her to zip me.  Imagine the awkwardness of not knowing how to tell your son's soon-to-be mother-in-law that a team of wild horses couldn't pull her zipper up.  No, not even with the higher power there with me.  Well, we both found some contenders to keep in the back of our minds but didn't leave with anything but some brand spanking new Spanx and a resolve to back off the carbohydrates. 


We're headed out again next weekend to see what else is out there.  There is a dress somewhere in this world for me.


I just know it. 




Y'all have a good Monday!