Chapter Eight: Three Weddings and a Plane Ride

“Sometimes that which we are doing is correct enough but simply needs to be persisted in—patiently—not for a minute or a moment but sometimes for years. Paul speaks of the marathon of life and how we must ‘run with patience the race that is set before us.’ Paul did not select the hundred-yard dash for his analogy!”
-Neal A. Maxwell

Chloe was born on her dad’s brother’s birthday. Growing up I always felt a bit gypped that I had my birthday all to myself. My sister got to celebrate her birthday with my grandma. So, when I went into labor on the morning of January 18th, I insisted my husband call his little brother before he called anyone else. Honestly, I don’t know that Justin was all that impressed.

But when he planned his wedding for the day before Nathan took his last final, I decided that the kids and I needed to be there, even though my husband couldn’t come. That meant that I would take Ryan-barely three, Sean-barely two, and Chloe- almost four months, on the three hour flight from Chicago to Salt Lake City.

A month before this exciting event (I mean the plane ride, not the wedding), Nate’s sister decided she was going to get married the day after her brother. I thought, “Sweet! Two birds with one stone.” But it got even better. Katharine, Nate’s sister, was living in Virginia. She was also going to be flying home for the weddings. So, she worked it out that she would have a layover in Chicago and then fly out to Salt Lake on the same flight as me. I avoided the disaster of going on my own.

Nate also had to take the board exam that summer. He decided since he was missing the weddings anyway, that he would stay an extra few weeks in Chicago to study without the kids and me to distract him. He would fly out a couple days before the test, take the test in Utah, stay there for the two weeks until school started again, and we could all fly back together. Owing to our money situation, we would have a layover on the way back. Nathan whined about that for a while, but I pointed out that when the day was over, even if it turned out to be a hard day, we would be about 400 dollars richer than had we paid for the direct flight. The price difference between an economy flight and a comfortable flight is amazing to me. Sure, I would prefer to be comfortable. But it is never a matter of twenty dollars and if I spend a hundred dollars in one day, I’d better dang well have something to show for it the next.

The most difficult part of the flight to Salt Lake was the time from when I kissed my sweet husband goodbye to when I arrived at the gate and met my sister-in-law. I had the boys in the double stroller (A hand-me down from a member of my ward) and the baby in a carrier against my chest. I had a backpack with my kid’s needs on my back. I knew I was a spectacle, but I was getting used to that.

When we arrived at the Security checkpoint, things really got fun. The guards informed me that I would need to fold up the stroller and put it on the x-ray machine. So, I pulled the boys out of their seats and stood them next to me. As soon as I got the stroller folded up and, somehow, maneuvered it onto the belt, despite the baby still on my chest, I took their shoes off and pushed the boys through the metal detector. Then, the security guard told me that the baby carrier would also need to be x-rayed. Keep in mind this was not one of those huge back-pack ones. It is made of a piece of material and a couple plastic clasps. Well, I had to take my back pack off anyway. I tried to look graceful. But it was impossible not to hear the exasperated sighs of the people in line behind me.

One of the guards finally said, “Do you need help?” I told her I needed someone to hold the baby while I got unloaded. She shouted to somewhere past the security checkpoint, “There’s a lady here with three little kids. She needs a hand.”

Another woman in a security uniform stepped forward, looking completely perplexed. She said, “She’s by herself?” as if that was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard. The first lady just nodded. I handed Chloe to the reluctant assistant and pulled the carrier over my head. Somehow, we all made it through the metal detector without any further complications.

Anxious to stop holding up traffic, I opened the stroller and threw the boys in their seats. When I turned to take my baby, however, the stroller collapsed with my children in it. Apparently I hadn’t gotten it locked into place. I hadn’t had it for very long. I had never been so humiliated. Well, it often seems that way. I struggled to get it open and clicked into place while Ryan and Sean bellowed. With the stroller working, Chloe strapped in and the backpack balancing out her weight, I finally turned to scurry away, hoping the bad parent police weren’t sent after me on my way to the terminal.

Katharine was waiting for me, fresh off her flight from Virginia. Thanks to her help, the non-stop, three hour flight was pretty forgettable. Well, it was forgettable to me. I’m certain the passengers around me would disagree. When you are as abundantly blessed as I have been, the extraordinary often becomes mundane.

Lucky for us, the Salt Lake international airport was under construction when we flew in. Without that, we would never have had the exciting opportunity of discovering how many people can squish into a Lincoln. My mother-in-law was throwing a birthday party for Katharine that evening. Did I mention it was her birthday? How could I have forgotten? I am sure she felt very lucky to get to spend her birthday on a plane with my adorable children. Honestly, I think she was so excited to be entering the same state as her fiancé, that she didn’t care much how that was facilitated. She truly had a great attitude about the whole situation.

Because of the birthday party, my mother-in-law, Joy, had driven down to pick me and the kids up. My dad and sister, with her little boy who was two months younger than Sean, showed up as well. Amber was bringing me car seats. We have enough growing children in our family that I could borrow all the necessary car seats, rather than having to worry about bringing mine from Chicago. Dad just missed me (or, more accurately, he missed Ryan, Sean & Chloe). Who wouldn’t? I was honestly surprised the whole state didn’t show up.

Joy, against all odds, had managed to find a parking space in the terrace next to the airport. Dad and Amber hadn’t fared so well. They had been forced to park a couple miles away and take a shuttle to the airport. In order for me to go to Odgen with Joy (an hour drive), I needed to retrieve the car seats from Amber’s car. In a show of excellent humor, Joy suggested we put all our luggage in the trunk of her car and all the people inside.

It took about twenty minutes of pushing and pulling, but the luggage fit. Amber and I sat in the back seat, with our four children climbing on us. Dad and Joy sat in the front. Joy managed to drive to the parking lot despite Sean curled up in the back window. I did try valiantly to keep him down. But I was mostly concerned that my little Chloe didn’t fall. The whole thing barely fazed the grandparents. It’s very hard to get out of the mindset of safety we, as young parents, have been rightly forced into and realize that our parents didn’t even use car seats.

Justin’s wedding was by far the most fun. His lovely fiancé had bought me a dress to wear. Katharine and I both tried our dresses on after her birthday party, the day before the wedding. Mine was tight and decided I’d just wear it, despite feeling uncomfortable. Katharine is quite a bit smaller than me and had a dress two sizes smaller than mine. She couldn’t even zip it up. So, I gave her mine. It fit her perfectly. Joy suggested we run to the mall and exchange Katharine’s for something to fit me the next day. So, I mentally added that to my list of things to do.

The wedding was in the morning at the Bountiful Temple. It would be followed by a luncheon and then pictures and the reception. The contract they had signed with the center catering the luncheon stipulated that every child had to have at least one adult assigned to them. Joy had explained this to me and I had asked my best friend to watch my kids while I went to the temple and then meet me at the luncheon to help with the children. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Sometime during the birthday party, I discovered that my temple recommend was in Chicago. I was between wallets and so Nate had taken it and put it in his the last time I had used it. It turned out I would be skipping the ceremony. It broke my heart because I had missed Justin’s endowment as well. My whole wallet had been lost that time.

The new plan was for me to sleep in, take my time getting the boys dressed and then head to the luncheon. My friend, Lauren, would meet me at the luncheon and we would go from there. It sounds like such a reasonable, simple, infallible plan. Doesn’t it?

I had borrowed a car from my in-laws and driven to my parent’s house the night before the wedding. It just seemed like my in-laws didn’t need the complication of house guests the weekend they were throwing two weddings. So, naturally, I slept later than I should have. My sister helped me get the kids dressed. I told her goodbye and hurried out the door just in time to drive to the luncheon.

About ten minutes and five miles later, Ryan threw up. I swear there is no more horrible noise than a kid puking in the car. Your heart freezes and before you can even worry about the car, car seat or clothes, you realize that your child is having a crisis and there is absolutely nothing you can do to help. Ryan gasped for breath and then cried out hoarsely, “Mommie, help me.” Of all the things he could have done! For heaven sake, scream, so I can be annoyed at the extra noise, cry so I can have an active, achievable task in trying to get you to quiet down. I chocked down my emotions and tried to think pragmatically. Why in the world would I have thought to pack clothes? All I knew was that I had flown across the country and already missed the ceremony. I had to make it to the luncheon.

I flipped the car around and grabbed the cell phone, courtesy of my very thoughtful father-in-law. My kids had a limited amount of dress clothing and it had been carefully rationed for the weekend. I called my sister and asked her if her little boy had anything that was way too big for him. She gathered together a couple of outfits, including an extra in case Ryan threw up again.

Once we arrived home, Amber was waiting by the door to help me clean the mess and hose off Ryan. In a matter of minutes, we were ready to set off. We’d be a little late, but we weren’t going to no-show. I should have expected this. Ryan has gotten sick every time we flew home. Perhaps the change in altitude was to blame.

We drove to Bountiful with no further problems. My mother-in-law had given me the name of the intersection to go to. Well, I drove in circles, down each of the four roads in the intersection and didn’t see it. In desperation, I tried to call Joy’s cell phone. Of course it was off. She wasn’t going to be answering calls during her son’s wedding luncheon. I did remember the name of the place I was supposed to be going, so I drove to a grocery store with a pay phone and looked it up in the phone book. It wasn’t in the intersection I’d been circling.

Unfortunately, the place didn’t have a name or address printed on the building, so I passed it a couple of times before chancing to see a familiar car. Sean and Ryan were both asleep in their car seats and looked down at them helplessly wondering what to do. Fate intervened and I happened to recognize two people walking toward the entrance to the building. I knew they were related to my husband; although, at the time, I wasn’t sure how. Hoping they’d recognize me, I swallowed my pride and shouted to them. They must have known who I was, because they immediately came over to help. One took Chloe and the other Sean. I was left to carry in Ryan. I remember a conference talk on being grateful for small miracles. Since that talk, I’m amazed at how many hundreds of them I notice in my everyday life. They seem to come one after another when you’re a parent.

Halfway in, I ran into my friend who was also just arriving, since I had given her the same wrong directions I had been following. She had happened to see me. That was lucky. She didn’t know the name of the place. Everything seemed to be going well, finally. At least they did until we walked into the decorated dining room. Apparently the staff knew exactly how many people were coming, because they had set up exactly enough chairs for the expected guests. It seems like a logical thing to do. But, since we were late, the only seats left were one here and one there. I simply could not spread my kids throughout the room.

On top of that, the room was in absolute silence. I felt like an idiot. I walked over to a table with two seats together, but was informed that those chairs were being saved for the couple who had been helping carry in my kids. They were Joy’s sister and her husband, I realized. And they were very thoughtful and insisted we take those seats, although the one who had been saving them wasn’t as pleased. I can’t say I blame her. She wanted to sit by two charming adults. Instead she got me, my friend and a hundred kids (Sean counts as 98). We were able to rig it so the older kids could sit and I attempted to keep my head down. After interrupting the peaceful lunch, I just wanted go unnoticed from that point on.

I balanced feeding the kids and Lauren took care of Chloe. It was working out okay. The only real problem was that with all of the people and food on the table, no one ever bothered to bring anything for me. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault. Even Lauren, who was sitting next to me, didn’t notice that I never got to eat. And I certainly was not going to march into the kitchen and demand food. I didn’t have the time, gumption or enough hands to leave the table. That was okay, a small thing.

During the dinner, they passed a microphone around the tables and asked everyone to introduce themselves. Lauren quickly muttered that I needed to introduce her since she wasn’t going to. We’d joked about her coming to the lunch and I had asked her to please dress in lederhosen and put her hair in pigtails so I could tell my husband’s family she was my au pair. Well, I wasn’t real sure how to pronounce au pair. When the microphone came to me, I introduced myself, my kids and Lauren, my nanny. It was a great joke that I assumed most people would blow it off. Everyone knew Nate was a poor, broke medical student. Everyone, that was, in the groom’s family.
They brought out dessert and it was the best thing I’d seen in a long time. I was starving. I walked over and got two pieces. I cut one in half and gave some to Ryan and some to Sean. About this time, Lauren walked in and told me Chloe needed her mom. Oh well. I left my lovely cake and took her to the bathroom to feed her.

I came back to find the tables cleared and Lauren trying desperately to control Ryan and Sean, who were entranced by mirrors that covered the back wall. I ran over and scooped Sean up, tickling his tummy. An old man gave me a pitying look and said, “It’s nice to see you getting to be involved sometimes.” I made a non committal comment about how fun they were and walked away. It took me a whole minute to figure out what in the world he was talking about-my nanny. I went into defensive mode for a moment. After all, if I wanted to have a nanny to help with my kids it was not inherently wrong, no matter whose mother had raised eleven kids as a widow on a chicken farm in Timbuktu. It didn’t last. I didn’t really care what the old stranger thought and it was time to load up the kids and get them to Grandma’s house to dress.

Lauren hugged me goodbye and my in-laws helped me get the children to the car. In no time, we were on our way. The luncheon was over, without disaster. The boys were going to look adorable in their tuxedos. Everything was fine. Ten minutes into the drive, Ryan threw up again. Excellent.

It wasn’t until I arrived at Joy’s house and noticed that she wasn’t there that I remembered the dress. Was I supposed to have gone to the store with Joy? Well, it was too late to do anything about that. I took the boys into the bathroom and started hosing them off. I rinsed the throw up clothes and threw them into the washer. I scrubbed the car seat and left it in the air to dry out. The other members of the family were busy getting themselves dressed. My father-in-law, Chad, told me where the church they were holding the reception at was before he hurried off to make it for pictures. Pretty soon, I was alone with my kids. Maybe Joy wasn’t coming back to the house.

I started packing the kids and their clothes into the car to find the church. Just before I left, Joy pulled in. She told me they were out of dresses that matched the wedding party, so she had bought the only thing they had in my size. It was cream and gold. The wedding party was in hot pink and black. I didn’t care, but hoped the bride wouldn’t be angry. I would just have to steer clear of pictures. I rushed into the bathroom and put on the dress. I must say, I looked fabulous. Perhaps it would be hard for people to see a flustered, neglectful mother while I was dressed like this. More likely, since I wouldn’t match, I would look like a pathetic cousin trying desperately to look dignified while I chased my children. Oh well. I looked great anyway.
We hurried over to the church and I picked a random room to dress my boys and stash my stuff in. I struggled a bit to figure out where everything went on the tiny tuxedos, but eventually, everyone had formal wear on. Chloe was adorable. The boys looked a little disheveled. The tuxedos were too big and impossible to keep tucked in. I couldn’t figure out the point of the little button covers, so I just ignored them. It seemed like way too much work. The boys were never going to look polished.

Like an angel, another of my sisters-in-law appeared as soon as we entered the reception hall. She wanted Chloe. Fabulous. I gave her the baby and chased after the boys. I could handle that. Geez, why did I need a husband at all? This was way too easy. We had missed most of the pictures. I wasn’t going to be in them, but my mother-in-law had rented tuxedos for her grandkids. It would have been nice to have it documented. Oh well. We were disaster free for a while, a short while.

Once the reception was in full-swing, Chloe decided to have a poop explosion. All of a sudden, my sister-in-law didn’t want to hold her anymore. I recruited some of Nate’s brothers to help with the boys and took her to the bathroom. It was an amazing explosion. I pulled her tights and onesy off. They both went straight into the sink to be rinsed out. Her dress had a yellow stain on the back that didn’t come out even with a good scrubbing. I got her as redressed as I could manage and hurried out to see if the boys had broken anything yet.

Laney, my sister-in-law was happy to take a less-stinky Chloe. About that time, Jordan, Nate’s youngest brother rushed into the room and told me, “Ryan’s bleeding.” I ran out into the hall and immediately heard piercing screams from the direction of the men’s bathroom. I went in; thankfully, no one was actually using the bathroom.

Another of my brothers-in-law, Christian, was holding my screaming son, attempting to dab at a gash in his forehead. Ryan’s face was covered in blood and he was kicking and squirming. I took him from Christian and tried to calm him down by letting him know that mommy had him. He calmed a little, but would not let me touch his forehead.

I knew that there wasn’t a chance I would get to clean him up or even get a good look at his face until he calmed down. So, I took him into the reception and got him a dish of ice cream from the refreshment table. It worked. In a few moments, he was contentedly eating his ice cream. I want you to fully appreciate the scene. Ryan had streaks of blood across his face. He was sitting at the table eating ice cream and wearing a tuxedo. I hope Justin’s new wife appreciated her beautiful wedding having a touch of Halloween, because I caused it.

I took a wet wipe and began the slow work of cleaning Ryan while he was still eating. Boy that ice cream looked good. I asked him if he was okay. He said, “Mom, that guy, he take me and hurt me.” Those are words you never want to hear as a parent. But I knew that the actual gash came from Ryan running into the corner of a door when he wasn’t watching where he was going. That meant that he was referring to Christian trying to clean his face. It was so sad, Christian was an attractive bachelor. He was in his mid-twenties. Most people would be in an extended teenaged crisis at that point in their lives. But he was trying desperately to be a part of his nephew’s lives. He was trying to help me and endear himself to them. Poor Christian.

While all of this was going on, Sean was putting his adorable little fingers in the wedding cake. He made some festive decoration in the perfect fondant. How could I have thought to take my eyes off him for a second?

Joy came over to me and suggested I take the boys to her house and get them some food. She was in very good humor and if she was really saying, “Get out of here and stop ruining Justin’s wedding,” she didn’t show it. The thing was that there was only an hour left of the wedding. One thing I didn’t want to do was get them in the car, haul them somewhere, and then have to unload and load again. If we could just hang out until the cake cutting with no more disasters, I would just drive them the hour to my mom’s house. But more guests kept showing up and the line never broke. My boys had gone from euphoric to ornery. It was time to go. I said goodbye to everyone, including the groom. He told me again how much they’d missed me at the ceremony. His bride told him not to make me feel any worse. Perhaps the ceremony was the only part of her wedding that survived.

Some of the family helped me load up the kids and we left. Less than a half hour into the drive, my mom called me on Chad’s cell phone. She was at the wedding. Where was I? I didn’t even have the energy to feel bad. I told her I was passing an Arby’s and she should meet me there. Ryan was asleep in the car when I pulled into the parking lot. I got out of the car. I must have looked like I got jilted at the prom, standing there in the Arby’s parking lot in my formal. I hadn’t even bothered to go to Joy’s house to change. The boys were still in their tuxedos. Ryan didn’t have any clean clothes anyway. I just watched for my mom’s car. She could help me carry the kids in and I could finally get something to eat.

I ordered food for me and the boys, my mom paid for it. I took an ornery Chloe to the restaurant’s outdoor bathroom, after getting the key from an employee. It was fabulous. I had to undress nearly completely to feed her. I suppose formals aren’t made with nursing in mind. Apparently the kids hadn’t worked out all of their energy because they ran wild through the restaurant after I returned. I didn’t care. There was no one they could bother. I didn’t care until Sean stripped completely naked. As I dressed him, I told my mom it was time to go. I reached for my keys. They were gone.

Mom and I went on a wild search of the Arby’s trying to find where one of the boys had stuck my keys. We found them, wedged to the side of a bench amid stale french-fries and half-eaten chicken nuggets. They were completely in accessible. Nevertheless, we tried. I didn’t want to ask for help. In the end, the manager had to come free the keys.

Ryan cried that he wanted to ride with grandma. I put his car seat in my mom’s car. Halfway home, she pulled off the freeway. I followed, hoping nothing was wrong. There was my sweet little boy, covered in puke again. We sopped it up as well as we could and took his tuxedo off. I wrapped him in my mom’s coat and put him back in his seat. Luckily, that was the last time on that trip that any of my children threw up. But I was a little overwhelmed when I remembered that tomorrow was yet another wedding.

Almost absent-mindedly, I wondered what should be done about the tuxedo. They were dry-clean-only and so I imagined it would be bad to rinse it out. On the other hand, could I really return it to the rental place covered in puke? What would you have done?

Katharine’s wedding wasn’t nearly as much fun. In fact, I even got to take a few pictures at that one. A couple days after all the excitement, my brother announced he was getting married a month and a half after we went back to Chicago. I told him good luck, but I wouldn’t make it. So, he moved the wedding up to the week after we were supposed to go home and asked me to stay an extra week.

Nathan, of course, couldn’t stay. He had school. But I reasoned that it wouldn’t be that bad for me. It was just one more wedding alone and then a flight, with a layover, alone. On top of that, Eric had scheduled his wedding day for my sixth anniversary. So, I would not be with my husband to celebrate six wonderful years and three beautiful children, as I should have been. I stayed for Eric’s wedding and was watched over by angels. My life is nothing if not interesting.