Why my children shouldn’t attend weddings, until THEIR weddings.

We all make rash decisions, ones that we have to live with for the rest of our lives. If we are lucky we will have documentations, like photographs of our bad choices, as to remind us to never sin like that again.


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See these beauties that I birthed? They look so happy don’t they. It’s their first wedding attending. Looking at the picture you wouldn’t ever know the story behind it. The wedding was a good distance away, so we had to stop for lunch before we arrived.

Since I hadn’t fed our children in 5 days, or an hour mind you they were clearly starving. The wait staff took too long to deliver pancakes, so they ended up eating the free Ketchup on the table, with a bit of salt and pepper. This saved tremendous amounts of money, until we actually ordered them real food. The waiting game at the large table with family members turned into the Hunger Games. We weren’t sure who was in alliance with whom, and we ended up all hating each other until we got food into our digestive system. The half and half cups most likely needed to be replaced after we left. i think Adah punched a hole in each one while I wasn’t looking. I don’t know, maybe I was looking but the restaurant didn’t serve Long Island iced teas in my time of dire need.

We arrive at the wedding, late mind you because there was a wreck , or a Military check point, I’m really not sure as I was playing every cartoon possible on my Iphone to keep Adah from screaming until her lungs collapsed. I love her lungs, when they are used for breathing. No yell. 


During the ceremony the girls went to a nursery as to not disturb the feel of the moment. I get it. My kids can be loud, just like their Father. After said ceremony I went to go pick up the girls from playing to find Adah rather smelly. She smelled like ass if you will, as I lifted her into my arms. Fecal matter graced its presence onto my dress, as I soon realized she had poop all over her legs. On her dress. In her hair. Everywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them SAM I am.

 I did what any responsible Mother would do, I bathed her in a tiny sink. Rubbing the poop off of her body with my bare hands, because I am a woman, and we can handle these sorts of things. After she was completely cleaned, I grabbed her dress to put back on, only to find dried poop in most every crevice. I was so excited to yet again wash poop off of something with my bare hands, because the EMS wasn’t available. 

After scrubbing for a good 20 minutes, we were ready for the reception. But wait, Adah’s dress was so very wet. What is there to do?

” Do you guys have a microwave near here?”

Nope. Ok. So I took the dress into the next room and flung it about, waving it about , praying it would dry and no one would think I was possessed. With no use trying to dry it, I put it back on Adah and we headed to the reception. Where my fate awaited me.

It wasn’t long before my children discovered the lovely tables set out with lovely food on them. Under the lovely food was a lovely flame keeping the lovely food warm. I love warm food. 

Soon they began playing hide and go seek. Sitting, trying to enjoy my iced cold sweet tea , I hear Adah’s tiny voice from a distance.

” MOMMA! I HIDING!”

Crap. Where now? I circled the room, with no such luck to find my toddler. It wasn’t long before I found myself underneath said lovely table retrieving my toddler from eating grapes people spilled onto the floor. I assured her there was food to eat, other than the food she found on the floor. She seemed happy , and rest assured of her place there.

Soon all the children began dancing on the dance floor. This gave me a chance to take in a deep breath and pretend I was smoking a cigarette. I’ve only had one in my lifetime, it was terribly disgusting, and I soon threw up afterwards, but in that moment I wanted something legal to smoke.  I casted that thought aside, as we were in church, on holy ground.

I am not a smoker, although I cannot assure you that smoke was not coming from my ears. I think it was.


The wedding was beyond lovely, the bride stunning. My girls saw her beauty and became transfixed on her dress, which was gorgeous. Then they saw the cake being served and soon switched their mindsets from Bride to sugar. Which is understandable, the bride is beautiful and they can daydream about their own weddings, but in this moment they want sugar to satisfy their dire need to bounce off of more walls.


Days prior to this event , this conversation went on between my beloved and I

” Honey I think we should bring them, the girls would love the wedding and they would all love to see their cousins and dance at the reception. You know how much they love to dance babe.”

” Honey, I don’t think its a good idea. You know someone will have a meltdown or worse, and you will regret bringing them.”

” No babe. We will have fun as a family, lets bring them.”

I do not say this often, but my man was right. He knew I would loose my ever loving mind trying to keep them happy with endless amounts of sweet tea and chocolate cake during the reception. It took Asher many bribes to get him on the dance floor, although he has better moves than his mother who spent her entire High school years in dance class. 

The kids would then detox on the way home from the sugar intake. Shouts of profanity and convulsions were involved, and the children were upset too.


It is in this moment that I vow not to bring our sweet , sweet children to any wedding until they are of age. Of age to drink.

During our family picture Adah had ANOTHER massive dump that I would soon change on a wooden bench. Enjoy this picture that is so deceiving. One that I will print , and for years to come it will remain in our living room as a peaceful memory. Lies.

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It wasn’t long before our babies grabbed the ” going away ” packages as they were to throw them at the bride and groom as they whisked away to their perfect honeymoon, much like their father and I. Adah decided to simply dump the whole container of glitter snowflakes onto her head, while Asher simply finished his cake in the background. I do not blame him, cake is cake, and if I could eat it I would be all over that like white on rice. Whatever that means.

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Coolest kid I know.

                                                Coolest kid I know.

I learned a lesson today that I will have to write in my diary that I try to keep, but it never makes it quite in there. Listen to my husband. When he says something is a bad idea, he is usually right. DANG IT.

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