So, I started this post two years ago, and didn’t ever get around to blogging about it, I think it’s probably about time that I published it, yeah?

I figure I’d tell y’all a little more about the week of the wedding, before it gets so far in the distance that it’s out of sight and no one really gives a damn about it.  Plus, if I don’t start logging the info soon, I’m gonna forget all the details!

The Thursday before the wedding was somewhat insane, Col was running back and forth to the airport with my brother (who, in actual fact, ended up keeping Col sane during the crazy that was H-town rush hour traffic!).  We managed to have two guest parties, unintentionally fly in at the same time – great, right? One airport run instead of two?

Not so great when one of their flights got delayed, delayed only long enough for Col to get home with party no.1 (after a 3 hour round trip to the airport), give me a quick kiss, turn on his heel and get back in the car to head up for pick up no.2.

Now, this sounds like nothing more than a case of a lot of driving for Col, right?

Wrong again.

While Col was transferring the McKee’s (first pick up) luggage from one vehicle into another in our driveway (he needed the space for Gerrit – pick up number 2’s luggage) he dropped a handful of stuff, he bent down to pick it all up, put it all in the bag, threw the bag in the boot and closed the boot.

Great, done deal, right?

Heh.  Nope (but you saw that coming I’m sure!).

What he didn’t realise was that he’d just thrown the keys to the minibus (hire car) into the bag as well.  So, yes, he’d just locked himself out of the van – which, we only deduced after about 15 minutes of frantic, pissed off, searching for the keys around the house and out in the front garden.  It wasn’t turning out to be quite as easy a day as we’d expected, or hoped it to be and Col’s nerves were already fraying from the insane traffic (he’s got road rage!).

Anyways, I told Col to just get in the car and go to the airport.  I told him we’d sort the minibus out later and off he went – grumpy, which, I couldn’t blame him for – I dunno how he’d not lost it already!

As soon as he was gone, I decided he needed my help.  So, in spite of my hate of talking to people on the phone, especially to people in a position of authority, or Americans (who tend to be unable to understand me), I stormed upstairs, a woman on a mission, with our car insurance card, dialed the number, pushed buttons to get me through the menu-maze and got connected to a guy who told me that yes, our personal insurance covered us for the hire car roadside and that he’d have a guy out within the hour.  Success!

When I called Col to tell him, the relief was audible on the phone.  I almost heard his huge mental-sigh of relief! LOL!  He couldn’t believe that I’d been so pro-active in getting the problem fixed, especially when it was talking on the phone to someone – cause they just don’t ‘get’ me here, so I point-blank refuse to call ’em.

By the time he and Rowan got home, I had the key.

I was very proud of myself for having problem-solved something.  Especially given that I’d been accused of disorganization and all that jazz.  And, especially since Col was soooooooo thrilled!

As McKee will testify to, and, if I don’t mention it here, he’ll probably kick my ass, the guy who came out to get the keys out of the car did the quickest, pain free, no muss no fuss job in getting the car unlocked.  No coat hangers or window breaking, just a little pillow of air he pumped up in the door frame and BAM! the car doors were open! It was like a magic trick!

When Col got home, he was already running way behind, he didn’t have time, but needed a shower before he went out for his bachelor party at Dave and Busters with the guys.  He arrived late, but that didn’t stop him from having a good time!

While Col was away, I magically ended up with a few hours of utter silence, on my own (mainly because at this point everyone hated me and couldn’t stand to be in my company!).  Bliss! I dandered around HEB to pick up a few groceries, had a long hot bubble bath before climbing in to bed for an early night – something I’d not had in a while.

I finally slowed down enough to have my ‘sitting-on-the-floor-crying’ moment – which I won’t go into detail about (though I have to admit, at times, back then, I was close to a complete out-pour), but needless to say, planning and executing a wedding without my mum being on hand, or help from very many people – in spite of many promises and exclamations that that wouldn’t be the case, wasn’t easy and was certainly starting to stress me out about, especially since I was, of course, the ‘big bad’ to everyone.

When Col arrived home from his boys night out, it was late, but we chatted, caught up, cuddled and yes, I cried some more – it felt like the first time we’d even seen each other in months, (even though it was closer to only being a week!).  At 2am, he made me the USA’s ‘super noodle’ (ramen noodles) equivalent and we sat opening the mounting pile of gifts and cards we’d begun to receive.

It was so much fun, definitely what I needed – it felt a little like Christmas morning and it was nice to sit and spend some time with him.  That was the moment when we made the decision to spend the night before the wedding together, we were both exhausted, we’d not seen more than the occasional ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ to each other for about a week now, we had already ‘really’ been married for going on almost a year, and we decided, together, screw tradition, we’d do things the way we wanted going forward.

The day was getting closer…and fast!