When we finally showed up at the groom's family's house (the ceremony was in their gorgeous backyard), we were about 5 minutes late, and the wedding party was all lined up on the sidewalk ready to march in. The groom spotted us, and said "Hurry and you can sneak in before us."
Words of doom. I had to wake Lucy up and get her out of her carseat. And that's when I realized that at some point in the half hour of driving back and forth past the same hardware store and 7-11 eight different times, she had thrown up her spaghetti lunch all over her dress and carseat.
Cue UBER GUILT. My kid threw up and fell asleep in it. And I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW. I got Lucy out of the seat and handed her to the Bubba who tried to assess the damage. While I was digging for wet wipes and wondering how we could have missed the barf smell or gagging noises. Were there any? There must have been, right?
And then I started crying. The stress of being late, and the Bubba using all kinds of creative curses of frustration in the getting lost, we're in a time crunch because the WEDDING PARTY is waiting for us to begin. We had to make a very quick decision to either go in to the ceremony or take care of all this stuff.
Fast forward 3 minutes. I pulled it together, the wet wipes cleaned up the worst of the mess, we decided that it sucked but didn't really matter, and we went in to the ceremony a bit frazzled with a barfy-smelling kid. She didn't look or act sick, so we've marked it up to motion sickness or something of the sort - she was perfectly happy crawling and walking around the yard at the ceremony.
And then after the ceremony, we graciously thanked them for holding the wedding for us (OMG, I'm still so embarrassed), and quickly changed her into the PJs I brought in case she got too tired.
A quick family pic before the wardrobe change
The rest of the wedding was uneventful in comparison.
At the reception, there was a photo booth and scrapbooking materials instead of a guest book. The Bubba and Lucy and I took full advantage.
The bride had a beautiful tiara-type beaded headband on with her veil and Lucy couldn't stop "talking" about it. She would point and say "Oooh! Oh!" and make the sign for "hat" again and again. And then even after dinner and saying our goodbyes and everything, we were putting her tired little body into her vomit-reeking carseat, she made the sign for "hat" again and nodded very seriously. Like she wanted me to know that she REALLY did like that head band.