Best. Day. Ever.

Well, here I am 11 days married and I am just now updating my blog. Hard to believe it’s over. It’s impossible to really describe that day accurately. It was filled with laughter and tears of joy, with feelings of complete and utter happiness, with friends and family and it went by so fast.

I know only two things for sure:

1. I love Tom more now than I ever knew was possible.
2. The reason why there is so little information on brides with disabilities is that when the day arrives it isn’t a factor. If you have spent any time being a person with a disability, you will get through the day just like you did the day before and just like you will do the day after.

I do have a few observations, for those of you who are interested:

1. Remember my entry about the shoes? Read it. Love it. Live it. Especially if you walk at all. I was on my feet A LOT more than I had planned on and was grateful that I had gone with sneakers and not dress shoes.
2. In addition to talking to your Photographer about what photos you want taken, talk about poses. My photographer knew me and my disability and worked with me accordingly, but if you don’t know your photographer he will need to know what works best for you.
3. Corset dresses may leave bruises. I am now sure these dresses are not meant for sitting. I had to keep standing because the boning on the dress cut into me when I sat down, After 15 to 20 minutes I had to stand. Keep this in mind when shopping the dress never hurt at any of my fittings.

And now, a few pictures of the best day ever:

Here I am, walking down the aisle with the best Dad in the whole world. I used one crutch and used him to support my other side. My other crutch was at the front and I used that one for the walk back down. (my crutches have a left and right.) My wheelchair was also up front just in case, but I did not use it.

Just after the "I Do's" when everyone starting clapping. Neither Tom or I cried but I am pretty sure everyone else did.

OMG! We're MARRIED. Just after the I Do's!

This is just to show my wrist corsage. I did not carry my bouquet down the aisle. It was too heavy. I thought that might happen so I asked the florist to make me a wrist corsage as well as a bouquet. It was the perfect touch!

This is what we did with the bouquet. My mom added the cover to my chair in case I needed to use it during the ceremony. We removed it before the real dancing started, but it looked really nice.

Just a fun picture. We thought it was funny.

Me and Stephy. Without her I may have lost my mind in the planning process. I think she was more frazzled than me on the wedding day though.

This is just a cool shot my friend took of me dancing. You can see my hair pins in this photo.

Tom and I during our first dance. My legs hurt, because I was so nervous that my spasticity was on high. He is basically holding me up in this picture.

My legs we still bothering me for the bridal party dance so Tom sat on me instead. He had never done such a thing and was afraid I would drop him. I did no such thing.

Even though the "I do" is officially done, I am not planning on abandoning this blog. I will just be writing as a wife now. It's a whole new adventure. Hang on tight!

Dancing with Myself? Hope Not! :)

Seriously I meant to have only a few days between my posts. Why is time going so fast? I have been quite busy in the last week I have:

□          Purchased the gifts for the Bridesmaids, Groomsmen and our parents

□          Made appointment for my hair and nails (Stephy did half of this one, Thanks love)

□          Made Tom and I appointments to have our hair cut

□          Scheduled a wreath making date

□          Picked songs and met with the DJ

I booked our DJ last year, mainly because I knew that 9.10.11 would be a popular date but also because my family lives for weddings. Not because we like to get dressed up, or because we are suckers for romance, it’s because we love music and we love to dance. To me music is right up there with photos. I did a lot of my DJ research online first and actually only interviewed two. The first worked with a friend of mine and although he seemed nice his prices were high and he was young so I was worried that we would end up listening to a lot of club music. I hate club music. Me and club music don’t jive; I either stand there making small jerky rigid movements with my whole body or people think I am having a seizure. It is not pretty and wearing a wedding dress won’t make it any prettier.

David, the second DJ I met with was older, so I knew he would have a lot of the 60’s music we love, and I had seen him play at my cousin’s wedding, so I knew he was good.  His price is awesome too and there was no restriction on the number of hours he was there. I booked him immediately.

Yesterday was the first time Tom had met him, things went well and we nailed down the details for our big day. Of the songs we would play for all the big dances, Tom and I are dancing to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis, my dad and I are dancing to “You’ve got a Friend” by James Taylor and Tom and his Mom are dancing to “Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong. Tom seemed comfortable with our DJ too, which is a huge plus because he is so picky about people.

Another plus: Tom seems to be coming to terms with whole dancing thing. Ironically, even though he is the more coordinated of the two of us he is the one that is most dreading the dancing. We have been together five years, have attended several weddings and never once has he agreed to dance with me.

I try hard not to take it personally, after all, it is about his stage fright and has nothing to do with me, but I have always equated being asked to dance as the ultimate form of acceptance and despite attending many dances in junior high and high school I was never asked to dance. Not once, not even out of pity.

In college I had my chair, so dancing with me was less intimidating, as long as I stayed in my chair anyway. I didn’t experience my first without the chair slow dance until Junior year when my boyfriend at the time took me to the President’s Ball at my college. Other than my father and my best friend (neither of which count) I have not had a "real" dance since then.

The more I think about it though, I am sort of glad that Tom and I waited (me rather begrudgingly) to have our first dance at our wedding. We have been dating five years and don’t have many firsts left, so it will be nice to share one of those one our wedding day. It will be a nice memory. I just hope Tom can relax enough to enjoy the moment with me instead of counting the seconds until it is over. 

Can't Dance? F____ The Pumpkin!

I have been to a lot of weddings in the past year; it seems that most of Michigan’s twenty-something crowd is on its way to marital bliss. Even before I got engaged, I was always thinking about my wedding when I was supposed to be celebrating someone else’s, imagining my self in the bride’s shoes.

Somewhere between noticing the height of her heels and the start some ridiculous line dance which had everyone but me and great grandma out of the dance floor laughing at their inability to all face in one direction; I realized that would never be me.

I would never be that bride. I will never shake it like a Polaroid picture or cha cha real smooth. I can bop it, I can roll it, if I am lucky I can wave it like I just don’t care without someone asking me if I am okay, but I don’t do anything smooth. The tragic thing is that I love to dance. I think I got it from my Daddy, who was kicked out of school for doin’ the twist as a teenager. I can imagine my body moving fluidly, and every time I try, the realization is like a slap in the face.

If I was of the AB variety (that’s able bodied for those of you that are unaware), I would take a class; find out what the heck the Charlie Brown is. But a class would just teach me to wave spastically in rhythm. And I already happen to have excellent rhythm according to special ed music teachers.

It is at this point, when I am letting the little things get in the way of the fact that in less then a year I will be married to one of the best men I know and THE best man for me, that I simply have to say “F____the Pumpkin!” and move on.

“F____ the Pumpkin?!?” Yes indeedy. Back in college, around this time of year, my very-best-friend-in-the-entire-world Charles and I got really down in the dumps. It was tragic, a pity party to end all pity parties. So Charles went out side and stole a pumpkin from my very own front porch. Then he came back with it and handed me a Sharpie. He grabbed his own Sharpie and began writing on the pumpkin, all the bad things that were getting him down. I began doing the same. When it was full we walked to the bridge that connected to two side of campus and tossed that sucker over the side. Can you guess what we yelled when it smashed at the bottom?

So there it is. My advice to all of you getting married who might not be that bride. F___ the Pumpkin. Don’t let the little things get in the way of the big picture. We won’t be doing the Cha Cha slide at my wedding, or the Hustle; but I might just invent a dance called the Spastic Slide. Don’t worry, I’ll give lessons.