Leaving Mabel in the hugely capable hands of Auntie Fee and Uncle Al (she did the hand clench 'yesssss' when I told her she would be staying with the boys) we had our first ever full weekend without her. She seemingly loved it and none of my fears at her feeling abandoned came through (just my own guilt there then?)
The new baby also kicked like crazy all day yesterday, think he/she might have been enjoying a break from having to shield its head from a big clumsy toddler foot.
We were nearly late, obviously. I can't actually think of a wedding where this hasn't been the case. Not as bad this time but after waking up and deciding we had ages, a good 2.5 hours until we needed to leave, we got too comfy watching Saturday Kitchen and enjoying our freedom. Suddenly we had an hour so I didn't get to curl my hair, my nails were painted on the way out the door (so not very well) and I wrote the card and tag for the present on the way. What the hell. G Kisby questioned, "seriously, can you not walk any faster than that?" as I made my way at a snails pace to the car. Turns out the size of my heels made me feel like I might constantly topple over with the whole centre of gravity shift. From then on he held onto my arm more than I think he would have normally and in a way that you might support the elderly.
The wedding was gorgeous. Who would have thought that it would be so hot (not me, I baked in black tights). After a lovely ceremony in a quaint village church we sat outside a beautiful art deco building drinking Champagne and Pimms in the sunshine whilst listening to a quirky jazz quartet. G Kisby was in heaven and apparently felt it rude to say no to the never ending top ups of drinks and canopies (at one point the young waitress said she kept coming back since she knew he never said no, embarrassing).
Dinner was equally good and despite knowing very few other people there, we were sat with some lovely couples, all either with children or pregnant, and conversation was easy (sometimes I find myself socially lazy and don't enjoy making small talk. It is a bad trait I know and luckily G Kisby is much better at it than me). The table plan was obviously carefully constructed and we looked on longingly as the 'drinking table' got merrier by the minute. Then we watched as our own neighbours left to walk their baby up and down outside, smiled and enjoyed every second of being able to actually talk to each other and eat with two hands (thanks Fee/Al/Mum). Think these opportunities may be few and far between in future.
The only downside was that the two others who were pregnant didn't eat the smoked salmon starter and said no to any wine. Curses, made me feel slightly self conscious about our slightly lax rules as I said yes quietly to a small glass and secretly shared G Kisby's starter.
A great band set against rows of lanterns lighting up the fairly warm evening, huge smiles all round, aren't weddings just ace.
To top it all off we left, with a cone of chips to nibble on the way home, circa 10pm to get back to the hotel for a good nights sleep. Yep that is how we roll. But I bet we feel better than the drinking table now this morning. That's what I am trying to cling to anyway.
Now can't wait to get home to our little girl who apparently slept in till 7.45 for Granny this morning, course she did...