As the big night draws near ...... the culmination of planning for a dress, hairstyle, makeup, nails, shoes, bag, jewellery, transport, date, afterparty, photos, underwear and whatever else makes the checklist is nearly here.
Moms are by now well aware that their input will have been divided, depending on the day and the mood of the inputee, into two categories .... "wow mom that is a fabulous idea" and "wow mom that is the worst idea that anyone has ever had, as in ever". Moms are never sure which category they are venturing into when giving their opinions and ideas.
The dress was easy. She saw it. I saw it. She tried it on. We both cried along with the saleslady. I paid, I cried more (for completely other reasons than the first crying). We had to have it made smaller closer to the dance. It was perfect. In and out in under an hour. She has tried it on 10 times since March.
The shoes were a little more traumatic. The specs were laid out clearly by the matriculant and the colour was an obvious choice. We walked ourselves to blisters in Pretoria's malls before venturing to Sandton City. There we found two perfect pairs ...... at R1 000 (on a sale) and R2 300. We drank coffee at 3 different places and came home. Round number 42 of shoe searching found the pair, one pair only and in her size, standing in (I think I was hallucinating) a circle of light in the store and I am damn sure I heard Alleluia playing. A bag was also a quick and dirty in and out purchase. Saw it. Bought it. #boom
Ditto the jewellery and appointments. Luckily the matriculant knows what she wants so hair, nails, makeup etc are easy. I think. I hope. But I will take the hip flask and some salty crax with on Friday morning. Just in case I need help. I am sure if I wash down some anti-depressants with hard tack it will have the desired effect.
Then we had the transport. The transport. I repeat it again because the magnitude of this organisation deserves a double mention. We are driving madam the matriculant to the place where photos will be taken (this is permissible) . But somehow it came to our attention that you do not drive your daughter to the venue. Arriving in my VW with Eug and I in the front and her and date at the back is tantamount to arriving in a gorilla costume it seems. Same kind of unacceptable-ness.
So once all the friends have had their photos taken, their parents will drive them to a pick-up point where the aforementioned parents will part with cash in order for these gorgeous children to climb into and be driven to the dance in a limo. Now I must say, I have never been driven in such style, so I am happy to give her the money to have this once in a lifetime experience. But the organisation .... oy vey.... eish ....... shaking my head.
Then last but by no means at all, least ...... the after party. The two words which send chills up parents' spines as they think of their kids on the road, very late at night and then again very early in the morning. The driving, the dangers, the this and that. So us moms do the responsible, get us into heaven thing .... we offer to drive. Even though this year it is quite a distance. We do it with love (ok we do mutter a little but only under our breath) ....
A friend of mine whose daughter has been with Jess since Gr 0 has offered to drive the girls to the afterparty. I will fetch them in the morning. I told Jess that since I am picking her and Lala up, and Lala's mom is going with me, we should definitely find somewhere and have a snack en route home, after all, I only have one daughter. We may as well go big or go home.
So the countdown has begun ...... the fairytale is on the doorstep ....... there are a myriad of people who helped to make it as special as I know it is going to be .....
Would I change anything if I could do it all again ....... No .... Has hubby been fantastically generous with his wallet ..... Yes ...... this is his baby girl after all.
Enjoy the fairytale Jess .... you deserve it.
till next time
c'est la vie xxx
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