A Labor Of Love

We have seven children. That’s right, seven. If that fact alone isn’t enough to explain the true meaning of Labor Day, well I just don’t know what is. I am not even talking about the moaning and groaning part of delivery although that was involved with all seven. Even our four adopted ones involved plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth before they were delivered into our arms permanently. No, I am referring to the day in and day out labor of loving our children. Believe me, it’s a labor of love daily. One I wouldn’t change for anything.

This is the norm in our house. Constant people. Good times!

I know I have mentioned our children throughout this blog, showing embarrassing photos and revealing intimate details of their foolishness. You’re welcome kids! But today, I thought I would focus on one kid in particular and the recent labor of love we were involved in on his behalf. Yes, I believe that is what I shall do.

This is our youngest son, Andrew. Isn’t he pretty?

 

Well, a few months ago, Andrew married his long-time sweetheart, Tori.

Aren’t they pretty?

 

We live in Oklahoma. The wedding was in California. So we got to travel in a ridiculously large group, mostly because we are a ridiculously large group. Sorry Southwest Airlines and of course, we will be happy to find another means of transportation in the future.

 

Anyway, once we hit the streets of Cali, it was off to my sister Debi’s house. She spoiled us rotten. It was like being back at my parents home. Seriously. Deb got mom’s gift for hospitality and that is the truth. It was wonderful.

This is my sister Debi holding our youngest grandson, Cavan.

For the next few days, we were included in some of the preparations. We didn’t have much to do because Tori’s family had organized just about everything before we arrived. They did an absolutely amazing job putting it all together. It was really beautiful.

Friday night we had the best time at the rehearsal dinner. Anyway, I think we had the best time. I remember margaritas and karaoke and someone singing Stand By Your Man…really loud and a bit off key. Ok, a lot off key. They say it was me but I don’t drink and I don’t sing so I am not sure I believe any of it.

Then Saturday morning, it was a flurry of activity getting ready for the main event.

 

We were told repeatedly, for months beforehand right up to the very moment of walking down the grassy aisle, that all we needed to do was relax and enjoy ourselves. That was it. No special instructions. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. This should have been our first warning. Anyway, we did as we were told, relaxed and enjoyed and went with the flow of things.

 

As Andrew walked me down to be seated, he forgot it was a fairly steep incline. He also forgot he is tall and I am not. The crucial thing he forgot is that I never wear hose and I have tree stumps for legs. I finally had to tell him to slow down.

 

Then he said, “Mom, not now. Just keep smiling and walking.”

Then I said, “Andrew Luis, if you don’t slow down right now, my inner thighs are going to spontaneously combust and people will talk about your wedding for years to come… and not in a good way.”

Then he said, “Mom, I will get you for this!“ Then he slowed down.

Then I thought, “I aint skeered! What can he do to me besides kill me and there are too many witnesses."

 

So, finally everyone was seated and the bride showed up and things moved along beautifully.

 

The ceremony was sweet and touching and there may have been a tear or two. Bob is such a crybaby. Then it was over and the music started playing and the new and improved Mr. and Mrs. Hansen danced up the aisle. I thought, “How sweet is that! They didn’t tell us they were doing that. Very cute!”

 Then the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced up the aisle and I thought, “How sweet is that! They didn’t tell us they were doing that. Very cute!”

 

Then Tori’s parents danced up the aisle and I thought, “ What the hell!!! They didn’t tell us they were doing that! Are we suppose to dance up the aisle? We can’t dance! Somebody kill me now!!”

 

 

The I leaned over to Bob and said in my most wife of thirty-four years voice, “Listen up, cowboy! You better dance!! Do you hear me? Dance!!”

To which Bob replied, “Wha….dance??? Marla!!!” To which I replied with The Look!!

And so…..

We danced….Well, one of us danced while the other one shuffled behind trying to hide his two-step behind the crazed moves of his spouse.

He made up for it later.

 

 

And so did his son.

It was a great wedding. Everyone got in the act.

 

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Hansen.

We hope you like labor!