If you’re looking for something fun to do on this gorgeous Sunday, come to the Apple Festival at Peddler’s Village in Lahaska, PA. While you’re there, stop by the Canterbury Tales Book Store between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. and say hello. I’ll be signing my books, and munching on everything apple (including the world’s best chocolate covered apples!)
My Turn
So here I am: Author of three books about relationships including one that specifically delves into the issue of mothers-in-law. From my very secure and confident perch I have given advice to women and daughters and sons since 2005. My wisdom has been discussed and considered by countless readers (or so I’d like to think). I’ve absorbed and then passed on the earnest suggestions of many experts in the parenting field as well as those from other moms and their children. Now, after six years, I get to practice what I preach.
Gulp.
I learned a few weeks ago that I will soon become the subject of my book. My daughter, the older of my two children, has become engaged and plans to wed next summer. Before you say to me, “Uh huh, let’s see how you feel now that the shoe is on your foot!” – let me just say the following:
First, I love my future son-in-law. He’s smart, hardworking, compassionate and, above all, adores my daughter. He’s made it easy for me to approve. I’m not sure he’s yet read Chapter Two of It’s Either Her or Me but he’s instinctively following the single most important piece of advice: Always, always, always put your wife first.
Second, I also love my future mechutonim (a unique Yiddish word that describes the relationship between the bride’s parents and the groom’s parents). Coincidentally, before our kids ever met the groom’s mom and I had gotten to know each other through some mutual friends. She generously attended the book launch for It’s Either her or Me and clearly understands how our kids are making a life for themselves. Plus, she loves my daughter.
Whew. Though what’s not to love…
Third, my future son-in-law has not one sister, but two. And from what I can tell they are fond of my daughter, as she is of them. Matter of fact, they seem pretty excited about their older brother marrying my daughter, who, having read the early, raw versions of It’s Either Her or Me understands her role in being a great sister-in-law to her husband’s siblings.
I know the road to wedding planning and thereafter is curvy at best and potholed at worst, but I’m hoping that after I have shamelessly just plugged my book, that I will, in fact, follow my own advice.
09
Oct
2011
Oct
2011
Wedded Bliss
I used to think Salem, MA was only about witch hunts. Now I picture a gorgeous harbor teeming with gleaming boats, the house where Nathaniel Hawthorne was born, scrumptious and plentiful lobster rolls, and one glorious wedding weekend.
Lucky me. I got to attend the wedding of Morgan and Lindsay in the unique position of being a guest of both families. I’ve known the couple since before they began dating at 15, which was 11 years ago. My son, who was best man, his girlfriend, and all his old high school buddies were there. I hate to throw around clichés like magical and spectacular. But honestly, that’s what the wedding was.
It was very untraditional. A magnificent Vera Wang bridal gown in a hue between ivory and butter yellow, and belted around the waist with a long black sash. A multi-tiered artistically rich wedding cake that was cut and put out on plates without any cake cutting ceremony. No throwing of the bridal bouquet. No dancing until after we had finished our meals. (You could actually enjoy the food and talk to your table mates without screaming.) No tchotchkes on the table, just exquisite displays of yellow flowers.
With all the traditional wedding details avoided, the evening turned into one huge, outdoor party with a truly awesome band and a bridal couple that looked to thoroughly enjoy each and every minute, as well as each other.
Even the weather was perfect, and the venue remarkable. The wedding was held at the majestic Crane Estate. Picture a mini Versailles – maybe not so mini – in Ipswich, MA. The view from the slate patio where we partied for hours was of rolling green hills spilling into the ocean. It was dreamlike.
We boarded three big tour buses to go from our hotel in Salem to the estate so no one needed to drive. The party continued throughout the night with some hardy souls, most notably the bride and groom still dressed in their wedding attire, watching the sun come up. Amazingly the bride looked as gorgeous then as she did when she stepped onto the lawn with her parents.
I’ve spent much too much time today avoiding my work so I could look at the hundreds of pictures on Facebook and relive the wedding. I’m sure I’m not the only one doing this.
Morgan and Lindsay: I know you’re somewhere without Internet and still basking in the events of the past weekend. Just so you know, the rest of us are, too.
Love you guys.
02
Aug
2011
Aug
2011
The Groom's Mom – In or Out?
Sometimes I think I may regret my career as a relationship expert, particularly as the author of my latest book, It’s Either Her or Me. I counsel mothers of brides and the brides themselves to include the mother of the groom in the wedding planning.
I’ve been to too many weddings and bridal showers as the guest of the groom’s family to ignore the potential for a lot of hurt feelings. Even seemingly minor exclusions can create bad thoughts that tend to sit there, simmering indefinitely like a pot with an endless supply of water.
But I also understand why mothers of brides might feel possessive, not wanting to share their daughter with another woman. I also have a daughter. When she gets married aren’t I going to want to spend time alone with her, helping her select the prettiest gown, the most flattering hair style, and the most breathtaking flowers?
I’ve been with her through every important event in her life; leaving her off at her first day of kindergarten, moving her in and out of dorm rooms and apartments, consoling her when she didn’t make a team, rejoicing with her when she got her first real job. No one shared those ups and downs with me so why do I have to share the happy moments ahead?
Relax. That’s rhetorical. Cause I do.
Including the groom’s mom in as much as she would like to be included matters because this is no longer about just me and my daughter. Marriage is the first life event for our daughters that takes them out of the restricted environment of family. It’s meant to be shared with another family. And it’s the first of many future life events (think grandchildren) that are.
I hope that one day when I become the mother of the bride that I will practice what I write. I know it will take effort and compromise and a thick skin. But I also believe it will be the right thing to do.
As you know, I also have a son.
27
Jun
2011
Jun
2011
Mom or Wife at HIS Life Events
Here I am all know-it-all and confident teaching a workshop on nonfiction writing at the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference. I’m there as a teacher, an author, and a relationship expert. By now, I think I’ve heard or been asked everything having to do with moms and daughters-in-law. Then one of the attendees stumps me.
A psychologist who writes about military spouses, she asked me as the author of It’s Either Her or Me to weigh in on the way many military wives feel when their husbands return home from a tour and Mom is waiting with open arms.
I did an unscientific survey of a number of female friends today – all moms and all with sons. Some said of course the mother goes first enveloping the returned, much-missed son she raised. Others said the wife. She’s his partner for life. She deserves the attention. The mom can wait.
Ooh. Ouch. I see both sides. And I’m in the process of formulating an intelligent response worthy of a RELATIONSHIP EXPERT. But in the meantime, it makes me think of how I handled my son’s graduation from graduate school last weekend. Clearly not the same thing as a son coming home from a dangerous war zone, but I was there with a lot of family and his significant other.
Me, his mom, jumped up to take his picture as they were lining up along Brown’s hilly campus in preparation for their procession. Me, his mom, rushed up to the front to take his picture as he was handed his diploma, defiantly ignoring the security guard who told me to return to my seat.
Me, ordering a special cake from a special bakery so we could surprise him at dinner. Me, not sleeping, when I saw the size of the moving van he was using to empty his apartment in Providence and move to Washington, D.C. And would be driving by himself.
How could I tell this writer in my workshop that the mom needs to make room for the significant other when I recalled my own actions last weekend? And then I thought about it.
I wasn’t alone filming the procession. I was standing with his girlfriend. (And my mother, for that fact, since no one, but no one, is going to tell my 80-something mom to sit down). I wasn’t alone moving him out of his apartment. I was with his girlfriend (and some stronger folks than us, fortunately). I wasn’t alone picking up the cake. I was with his girlfriend who discovered the bakery and excitedly told me about it.
Throughout the graduation weekend, I was with my son. And I was with his girlfriend. It was perfect.
Hmmm. I believe I might know how to handle the situation involving military wives and mothers. Look for the answer in a future blog. And, as always, let me know what you think.
07
Jun
2011
Jun
2011
