Welcome to the Teenage Years

On Monkeys and Mishaps

On July 2, 2011, thirteen years ago today, I hurried down the aisle with tearful eyes, not all of which were happy. Only five minutes prior, the officiant beckoned Micah to “kiss the bride.” Before our lips met, one of my bridesmaids fainted and crashed into the stage paneling with a bang. (Friendly reminder not to lock your knees.)

Was this embarrassing? Yes. But it was not the only awkward moment from that day.

Micah and I were young, both of us twenty-three. We were ridiculously goofy and adorably naive. With more than a little ingenuity, we planned a low budget wedding in a big city. It was a do-it-yourself, monkey-themed, daisy-adorned exhibition. (That’s right…monkeys.)

The summer prior, Micah graduated from Belmont University with a degree in graphic design. It was a natural extension of his talents to create our save-the-dates and invitations. Rather than follow the formal route recommended by bridal magazines, Micah customized our invitations to give them a more personal feel. Micah combined his love of art with my (at the time) love of monkeys. The result was a trifold, interactive invitation where guests were encouraged to draw self-portraits to RSVP. This first art assignment was merely a precursor to the guest book at the ceremony. There Micah asked our guests to draw themselves as monkeys and add their signature. (I am not kidding).

Now that I’m older, the silliness of our stationary makes me blush. But when I notice the drawings stored in an old box in our garage, a warm smile spreads across my face. Who else owns such a book containing delightful drawings from family and friends?

The warmth of my smile may also stem from the memory of the heat on that ninety-three degree July day. I was too hopped up on excitement to mind the sweat sliding down my face, but the boutonnieres a friend made did not survive unscathed. For nearly two hours before the ceremony, we took pictures in the peak of the heat. Consequently, the Gerber daisies were wilted by the ceremony. At some point, my father removed his flower and slipped it into his suit pocket. He forgot about it until several months later. Upon rediscovery, he put the daisy in a picture frame and gifted it to me for Christmas. The daisy sits on my desk to this day.

As mentioned previously, most of the wedding was DIY or courtesy of friends. Micah and I did, however, pay a professional to bake the cake. To pinch pennies, we bypassed the porcelain cake toppers and settled for two love monkeys made out of cardboard and ink. We chose a similar method for creating reception table centerpieces. Rather than monkeys, we showcased numbers that were significant to our dating history. A bold number, a silly picture, and an informational blurb to keep our guests entertained during dinner? I have no regrets about Troy Bolton’s presence on table sixteen.

I’d like to say I’ve adequately summarized all of the embarrassing items, but that would be a fabrication. I woke the morning of the rehearsal dinner to a stye on my eye. I spent the morning of the wedding holding a tea bag over my face. The musicians (also friends) could have used a bit more practice on a complicated chord progression. It resulted in a series of wrong notes during the wedding procession. The bustle on my gown broke seconds before my first dance. When I asked someone to offer a distraction while a bridesmaid pinned it, they shrieked in front of everyone, “Delay! Delay!” To top it all off, the groomsmen forgot to decorate the getaway car. My bridesmaids decided to improvise and used whipped cream instead of shaving cream. The cream melted into a sticky mess that covered the entire vehicle. (Rest assured, it was an unreliable Chevy Impala.)

I have a vivid memory of sitting at my desk and opening an email from our photographer when the pictures were ready. Some of the moments she captured were magical. Others made me cringe. I revisit the album on my anniversary each year. Interestingly, it is the cringeworthy moments that have morphed into some of my favorite memories. (Just maybe not the fainting). 

So what if my wedding was a series of monkeys and mishaps? They perfectly epitomize how young Micah and I were when we wed. We were kids who played with stuffed animals and still took time to complete coloring sheets. If I have learned anything in thirteen years of marriage, it is the importance of embracing the simple, laughing through the hard parts, and staying silly. 

I welcome the teenage years without knowing what they will bring. May we go along with the goofiness and kiss through the mistakes.