Becoming Mrs. LadyBird Magpie of Parkdale

I definitely don’t want to forget any of this.  Just a bride and a groom and some rings and everyone we know and love.



Where do I even start?  DIY wedding is a blogger’s fantasy, and I did almost all of it myself, so I should have lots and lots to share.  Through the exhaustion of the last two weeks, I’ve been trying to find the clarity and the words, trying to find anything to write about, and I’m still unsure about what to say…


I thought I would be much more emotional throughout the ceremony.  Like falling over sobbing, with mascara raccoon nightmare face, but it wasn’t really that bad.  I thought I would get to the part where Gord handed me over to Martin and I would completely lose my shit.  But I didn’t–I had welled to tears enough many times in the weeks prior to the wedding about Gord giving me away.  I cry because I’m happy.  How could I not be?  Everything makes sense, right?  Marrying Martin for starters, and Gord giving me away, and everything leading up to that point.  My life has made 100% sense, and I’m full of so much joy.

On May 11, 2013, I had a bath with a Lush bath bomb, I made our bouquets, I traipsed down the stairs of my Parkdale house of dreams without calling a cab because at this point, I don’t even know HOW to call a cab.  But hailing a cab is pretty tough carrying a suitcase, two bouquets, a crinoline and smoking a stranger’s cigarette.  The neighbour of all neighbours escorted me to the street corner and hailed me a cab.  Put my bags in the trunk and sent me off to the Gladstone.  It really was very very sweet.  He later hauled like 250 lbs of ice up the stairs, and had the time of his life blasting records.  What an awesome dude.


Maid of Honour
The maid’s homemade bouquet
Really awesome homemade bouquet
The Brides homeemade bouquet



My room was at the Gladdy was red, and there was just enough time to doll myself up to the fashion by which I chose to get married.  My red room, my red dress,  and a perfect Parkdale view of the Gladstone Cafe (ha!) and the rug factory in the distance.  I hung my dress in the window for all of Parkdale to see. I prepped and primped and listened to old reggae and my escorts arrived on cue, and I got to show off my crinoline for the very first time. And no, that’s not a euphemism.

 
Red Curtains
Red Curtains in the Gladstone Room #303
TTC at the Gladstone
Outside the Gladstone

We drank champagne and put feathers in our hair and descended down a beautiful three flights of stairs to the Gladstone lobby. I guess whenever I imagined my wedding the two things that were always consistent–I was always coming downstairs and there was always music.  As a child, I used to stand at the top of our stairs and have my mother call “Andrea Peattie, come on down”, as though I was headed to contestants row on the Price is Right.  No contestants row on May 11, though, just a groom and some rings and everyone we know and love. and the last time I’ll ever descend anything as an unmarried lady.  Just Andrea Peattie, for the very last time.

 


Smoking Bride, vintage red dress
$12.99, just slightly more than my pack of cigarettes


Vintage bride in a taxi
Back of a taxi, heading away from the sunset
My Handsome Groom awaits

I never want to forget, sitting in the judge’s office, singing with my dudes, and my best gal.  It was one of the most special moments of my life.  The sweet harmonies, Vigoda’s soft strums and some super slow tempoed soul.  This all sung volumes to me about the man I was going to marry.  They love me, and they love Martin.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.  


They led me, and serenaded us into our marriage.  And while I really wish my dad and Luigi could’ve been there, it didn’t really matter, because I knew they would be so happy, and they would love Martin too.  Samson-esque locks and all!.  

The words of the ceremony didn’t even occur to me at the timeand I really don’t even know what the JP said.  He asked about vows and readings just prior to the ceremony and I told him to say whatever he wanted, just don’t say anything about God.  What I do know is that I meant what I said to Martin and I know Martin meant what he said to me and we’re never going to stop meaning it.

  ……..I will.  So will he.  The end 
and also the beginning.  Presenting Mr. and Mrs. McWaters.


There are about 1000 things that I wanted to say to Martin the night we got married, and by the time that I got to him, I didn’t have to say anything.  Everything just makes sense for us.  
And we are head over heels in love to boot.  

When I first started dating Martin, he had stayed over on a Saturday night, and we went for brunch at Mezzrows, then walked along King back to my former PD house of dreams.  We lollygagged up the stairs, sat down on the futon and played Tony Hawk on the PS2.  We were having some snacks (naturally) and I turned and looked at him and said…”Does this feel normal to you?”  He said “yep” and we went back to playing our video game.  


Here we are now, tonight, on the couch, and he’s playing a video game while I write.  The snacks will be out soon, I’m sure.  Guess what?  This is absolutely-one-hundred-fuckingpercent-no-doubt-in-my-mind “normal”.  And so my first reflection (yes there are more to come), upon being wed, is this:  I got married and I don’t feel any different.  Not even in the slightest.  And as you can see on my face, am thrilled.



****Special thanks for the photos:  AJ, Lisa DeeAlex in Wasaga, & Maureen & Alan.  

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6 responses

  1. Soooo many congrats! Love the dress.Rxhttp://sandersonsmithstory.blogspot.co.uk/

  2. Thanks Doll! I love my dress too, and the best part is, I can wear it again and again!!

  3. This is awesome! All very original 😀

  4. Thanks so much, lovely!! I wish I could do it all again!

  5. […] From this Day On–I always wanted a husband, pretty much for as long as I can remember.  It was getting a bit dicey 5 or 6 years ago–I was beginning to think it was never going to happen.  I was happy with my life, and was ok with the idea that maybe I wouldn’t get to have a husband one day.  I always thought that I would make a pretty good wife.  Turns out I make a great wife–just ask Martin.  And really, being a wife and having a husband isn’t really what makes me happy–it’s the person that my husband is.  His personality, his beliefs and convictions, his compassion and interests, his strength and honour–all of those things make him an amazing person.  I’m thankful on a daily basis that he chose me to become his Mrs. McWaters.  I laugh to myself from time to time about how unsure I was in the beginning when we started dating.  And now, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.  I really do love him more and more each day and really look for forward to spending the rest of my life with him. […]

  6. I just found your blog and love your stories. Congratulations on your wedding.

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