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Our lives have settled back to some kind of normal in the past week. The adults have gone back to work. The baby has resumed his sleeping schedule. Life seems to be going well. We have decided to buy a house this year, but do not know how to go about achieving this goal. Ilia has been sitting on the potty every day. We've decided to potty train our 15 month old. Some say it's early, but I think that it's ok to get him used to the idea. We don't get upset if he doesn't perform. We don't make him sit there until something happens. He doesn't run naked around the house. If we had a backyard, he could run there. I've changed my last name on most official documents.
In my last post, I promised to write more about the wedding. I realize that no words will really suffice to really transport people to the day itself. The day seemed very surreal. I had finished my vows. Borislav had not yet finished his. There were last minute preparations-manicure for Borislav (I convinced him.), make-up, hair, packing items for a special person to pick up, putting in contacts, etc. His parents couldn't really understand why I was worked up about the wedding. In Bulgaria, at the time of their wedding, they went to the court house. That was it. For me, I wanted a wedding. I plan to marry only once. The last thing that happened before our caravan was to get the boys ready-my nephew and our son. They wore brown pants with a brown vest, white shirt, tie, and brown shoes. We traveled to a local winery a little late. On the way, we passed Borislav. I ducked and my sister who looked like a Grecian goddess waved, but he seemed to be focusing heavily on driving. He must have been thinking about his vows.
We arrived late at the winery, so I ran downstairs where I was promised my attire would be. My sister, maid of honor, helped me change into my dress and jewelry (engagement ring, diamond earings given to me by my dad for my graduation present from high school, aquamarine bracelet, neclace from etsy, dress from david's bridal, shoes-brand MUDD from Sears-looked just like the ones my mom wore for her wedding-These details may not seem important now, but they were at the time.) in the bathroom. I was so happy to have her support. When we stepped out, people were so shocked at the transformation. I don't usually wear make-up and contacts or style my hair. I certainly don't wear high heels. Some people were almost in tears. I was actually getting married. I was the bride. My time had come. My dad did not recognize me. I saw my flowers and programs for the first time. I was impressed. My grandmother kept wanting to take pictures of me, which I didn't like at the time. My eyes don't like continuous flashing. I picked up some of the pictures yesterday, so now I'm more thankful that someone was able to picture me at that time. We were behind schedule though. It was past 5:30. My mother was not to be found. The photographers were 250/hour and they were going to leave at 7:30. I was no longer in the best of spirits. Ilia lost a shoe somehow. The photographers assured me that it would be ok. So, we went on with the ceremony.
People started walking out: Borislav escorted his mother, my brother escorted our mother, brother's girlfriend with flower boy (he just wanted to run and laugh :)), brother with Ilia (started out walking, lost a shoe, was carried the rest of the way), dad and myself. When my parents were having problems, I told him that he would not walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't even be at the wedding. I'm so happy that what we say does not always happen. We have a much better relationship as adults. I found myself wrapping my arm around his. I was really getting married. He was really walking me down the aisle to the rest of my life. He assured me all would be fine. He would always be there. Borislav would always be there. There's more love not less. I walked alongside my dad with a smile that would not relax. I was really getting married. My family was here to watch me marry the father of my child and the man who has committed himself to the deepening of our beings as individuals and also as a couple. Then, there he was: the man I was going to marry. How did he think I looked? Did he like his bride's choice of dress? Was the make-up ok-too dark? (My friend had bought me a lot of Estee Lauder products that went well with my complexion and eye color. When I went to the salon to have it applied, they couldn't use any of it. They had to use their own products. I was not happy. I won't go there again. I just don't apply make-up often nor did I want to take the time to if I was going to get frustrated about it.) He mouthed beautiful. He looked very serious in his chocolate tux. The ceremony began....
In my last post, I promised to write more about the wedding. I realize that no words will really suffice to really transport people to the day itself. The day seemed very surreal. I had finished my vows. Borislav had not yet finished his. There were last minute preparations-manicure for Borislav (I convinced him.), make-up, hair, packing items for a special person to pick up, putting in contacts, etc. His parents couldn't really understand why I was worked up about the wedding. In Bulgaria, at the time of their wedding, they went to the court house. That was it. For me, I wanted a wedding. I plan to marry only once. The last thing that happened before our caravan was to get the boys ready-my nephew and our son. They wore brown pants with a brown vest, white shirt, tie, and brown shoes. We traveled to a local winery a little late. On the way, we passed Borislav. I ducked and my sister who looked like a Grecian goddess waved, but he seemed to be focusing heavily on driving. He must have been thinking about his vows.
We arrived late at the winery, so I ran downstairs where I was promised my attire would be. My sister, maid of honor, helped me change into my dress and jewelry (engagement ring, diamond earings given to me by my dad for my graduation present from high school, aquamarine bracelet, neclace from etsy, dress from david's bridal, shoes-brand MUDD from Sears-looked just like the ones my mom wore for her wedding-These details may not seem important now, but they were at the time.) in the bathroom. I was so happy to have her support. When we stepped out, people were so shocked at the transformation. I don't usually wear make-up and contacts or style my hair. I certainly don't wear high heels. Some people were almost in tears. I was actually getting married. I was the bride. My time had come. My dad did not recognize me. I saw my flowers and programs for the first time. I was impressed. My grandmother kept wanting to take pictures of me, which I didn't like at the time. My eyes don't like continuous flashing. I picked up some of the pictures yesterday, so now I'm more thankful that someone was able to picture me at that time. We were behind schedule though. It was past 5:30. My mother was not to be found. The photographers were 250/hour and they were going to leave at 7:30. I was no longer in the best of spirits. Ilia lost a shoe somehow. The photographers assured me that it would be ok. So, we went on with the ceremony.
People started walking out: Borislav escorted his mother, my brother escorted our mother, brother's girlfriend with flower boy (he just wanted to run and laugh :)), brother with Ilia (started out walking, lost a shoe, was carried the rest of the way), dad and myself. When my parents were having problems, I told him that he would not walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't even be at the wedding. I'm so happy that what we say does not always happen. We have a much better relationship as adults. I found myself wrapping my arm around his. I was really getting married. He was really walking me down the aisle to the rest of my life. He assured me all would be fine. He would always be there. Borislav would always be there. There's more love not less. I walked alongside my dad with a smile that would not relax. I was really getting married. My family was here to watch me marry the father of my child and the man who has committed himself to the deepening of our beings as individuals and also as a couple. Then, there he was: the man I was going to marry. How did he think I looked? Did he like his bride's choice of dress? Was the make-up ok-too dark? (My friend had bought me a lot of Estee Lauder products that went well with my complexion and eye color. When I went to the salon to have it applied, they couldn't use any of it. They had to use their own products. I was not happy. I won't go there again. I just don't apply make-up often nor did I want to take the time to if I was going to get frustrated about it.) He mouthed beautiful. He looked very serious in his chocolate tux. The ceremony began....
