You know how little kids are sweetest before the tiredness sets in? Then the sweet little angels turn into crabby little monsters until sleep grants blessed relief from the tiredness, crying, and pent up frustration?
That's marshmallow time--the sweet part before the meltdown.
It's amazing how first impressions can be so warped by emotional circumstance.
Earlier, I posted about a bride who, in a single 22 minute phone call where she vented about planning her wedding, I recorded the bridezilla-esque statements she made.
I briefly posted my response to her constant nagging.
Last week, she came with her 4 bridesmaids to get their dresses fit, and it was like a different person walked in the door. Calm, relaxed, understanding, and finally seeing that the tragedy of the euro-greenish-gray* too big** dresses was more palatable with the slight adjustment of exceptions.
She was, dare I say, delightful. It was encouraging to see another side of her.
Fast forward a week--and she's back to the prickly state she was in the first fitting. Again, I am so sorry that you got screwed on your save the dates. I'm sorry you got ripped off on your veil. Hell, I'm sorry that you got the wrong dipping sauce for your chicken nuggets back in 1998. Focus on what we're working to fix.
This wedding party has really made me think. They have all been really difficult and needy, have shown up without setting appointments, and have taken over my home for much longer than necessary.
I am starting to think that this is no longer worth it--the constant appointments, the stress of working extra hours, and mostly the unfair burden that is placed on my husband. He has been so wonderful and selfless when it comes to the constant parade of brides through our living room, but it's starting to become to much.
I love the work. I love meeting with people. I love making a dress into something real and specific for one person. I love the stories.
But I love my husband more.
Maybe marshmallow time for me is over.
*Euro-gray sounds very similar to Earl Grey, which was the actual color of the dress. I can easily see the misunderstanding, but dude. You signed off on it. Read your paperwork.
**Too big is a relative term. When you fit something to a standard size, you need to go with the largest measurements. So someone who wears a size 6 on top but 12 on the bottom will need to order a 12.
