It all started Wednesday, May 23rd. If I’m going to tell this story, I’m going to start from the very beginning, as tedious as it might seem to you. I met my bestest CT friend, Holly, at Green Tangerine spa at 10 am that morning. We were scheduled for mannies and peddies. Nothing about my wedding was typical, starting at my nails. I had tried like hell to grow them long for this very event. But, I’m human and have a few horrid habits, such as biting my nails when I’m nervous. And while this habit is mostly under control now that I’m in my 30s, I was under considerable stress those last few days. So a few nails were missing and my manicurist wasn’t thrill about applying French tips on my non-existent fingernails. But I persuaded her and she did an OK job. In the middle of my manicure, I notice that my nails are almost finished with their 3 layers of lacquer and Holly’s still getting an arm massage, worthy of a bride. Hey, wait a minute! I’m the bride this time!! Oh well, as per usual, I get gypped, even on my own wedding manicure! We then moved onto our pedicures. Because I shaved that morning, I wasn’t able to enjoy the best part of a pedicure…the exfoliating leg massage “it’ll burn your legs because you shaved!”. Well la-di-da. I guess I’ll arrive with my fur on next time. All in all, though, the manicure and pedicure was great, and I was grateful and excited that Holly joined me in this event. At the last minute, I also decided to chop off my hair. Probably another “don’t” on the list in my wedding planner, but I was, by far, your least typical bride. I was much more worried about my neck hurting from my veil and the weight of all my hair than having long, lush curls cascading down my back on my wedding day. The hair cut was amazing. Kathy did an amazing job and I felt so free! Unfortunately, in my excitement over the hair cut, I walked away from the Green Tangerine without the ONE thing I had told myself over and over again not to forget…the nail polish color Holly and I had specifically used on our feet! Oh well, if the toes got chipped I would not be able to fix them. I just had to be careful to keep my toes clean!
The rest of the afternoon dragged on in large doses of anxiety and fear. Fear that 2 small children would be lost in a game of ex-manipulation. Four o’clock could not come fast enough, and trust me, it didn’t come fast. Finally, I got the call I was hoping for…Scott was on his way to Manchester, Austin and Grace in tow! YIPPPEE! I could FINALLY relax. I told myself, and many loving friends who offered many a ear, that I didn’t care what happened from this point on as long as we had Austin and Grace with us. Well….someone heard that remark, and it bit me hard in the butt! (Details to follow in the next blog segment). The drive to Maine was amazing. Austin and Grace were troopers. They are amazing kids and I could go on and on about how wonderful they are, but even at 9 hours in length, I wish I could relive that drive over and over. They were THAT great. It's hard to explain in words what it's like to be a step-mom. You spend many moments loving children that you did not bear and many moments worried about how to show that love appropriately. But if there was ever a turning point, a point where I no longer worried about how to show my love truly and completely, it was during our week in Van Buren with Austin and Grace. We arrived at 114 Cyr Avenue, Van Buren, Maine at 1:15 am. Two very tired kids were carried out of the van and a very large neon orange sign said “Welcome Austin & Grace”. (My parents are amazing...to welcome Austin and Grace in true Ouellette fashion...meant the world to me and Scott.) Attached to this sign, which was tapped to my parents’ storm door, were two of the largest tootsie-rolls I had ever seen. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Grace, who was knocked out almost unconscious, sleeping on my shoulder, awoke just in time to notice that chocolate awaited her arrival, and BING! She was wide awake! (guess what gracie had as part of her breakfast the next morning?) hehehe
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