Wedding season in my family is usually the start of organised mental chaos. Coming from an Indian background means all weddings last a multiple of days. The first of many such weddings starts next week. A 4 day event. Argghh! With a toddler in tow. Arrrrgh!
It’s my “cousin” that is getting married. We’re not actually related but they are still “family” and therefore that means we must attend all the days. He is my maternal aunt’s hubbies’ first cousins’ son. Actually, that means we are related after all. And you could even say we’re “close family”.
This will be the first time Baby Z will be going to a wedding as a toddler which is already filling me with dread. He has decided he no longer likes to be strapped into his car seat so if he isn’t trying to break out of it Houdini style, he is exercising his lungs at full volume in the hope that a full blown 10 minute tantrum will defeat me into pulling up and letting him out. I have to admit it’ll be mildly amusing watching my cousin, who is travelling down with us and, who has no experience of babies whatsoever, attempt to calm a frenzied Baby Z midst tantrum screaming. Tee hee (I know, I am evil).
I also had grand plans to get into shape for this wedding and have been trying to dutifully follow BodForTea’s excercise group. I started oh so well but Baby Z has discovered its fun to sit on my belly whilst I try to do sit ups and bounce up and down for maximum fun. On days where i don’t want to vomit I sometimes end up not doing sit ups.
He has also learnt the art of hairdressing. Deciding he doesn’t actually like my fringe anymore, he will regular scowl at me with all the concentration of a good hair stylist, lean over and then push my fringe out of my face. Whilst holding onto it. He might then let go. He might not. He might also decide to try to push it back to where it was. On the plus side I guess I don’t need to pay for a stylist if I decide I need one!
My one mission is to try to look presentable all 4 days. This means…
Not finding food anywhere on my self. Particularly my knee area, which has become Baby Zs personal mouth wiping place.
Not finding food stains on my shoulders or arms
Actually being able to get into my dresses whilst being able to breathe
Not arriving frazzled to one of the days on account of super “let me out of the car seat” tantrums
Not singing theme tune to Zingzillas unless I absolutely have to.
Not having my fringe pulled and re-styled mid party
Not having food chucked at me
Stopping Baby Z from trying to empty his bottle of milk onto people’s floors.
Keeping Baby Z clean-ish all 4 days
That’s do-able. Right?