What's black and white and cute all over?

A few weeks ago, on the night before New Year's Eve, the daughter of Brian's cousin married her longtime sweetheart. My five year old served as ring bearer.

John did a great job, and never once complained about his tux: not on the car ride, not during the reception, never. I think the mandarin collar helped.

The wedding started at 6 pm, and was located an hour and a half away. Of course that was the one day this entire winter that it snowed. At the church, I almost killed myself navigating the steep, icy parking lot in heals. Then I scrambled to get the boys to the bathroom, before the bride arrived. Conveniently, it was located all the way down the aisle, past the alter, through two rooms, and down two flights of stairs. Everything went fine until post-urination, when Ben and John decided it would be hysterical to run away from me, barrelling up the stairs to, presumably, charge into the quiet church, knocking down candles and setting whole place on fire.

The narrow staircase curved along an open hallway, so even though they were a flight above me, I could see still see them.

"BOYS!" I hissed. They froze and looked down at me, smiling.

"DO. NOT. MOVE. Or you will be sorry!"

They waited, and no doubt, the hideous contortions of my face at that moment will remain etched in their memory for all time.

During the ceremony, John attempted to repay Brian and I for every unfairness we'd subjected him to since his birth. He found every way to cause trouble, despite being sandwiched between us. He tapped his foot, loudly. He made raspberries. He poked the grandmother of the bride in the back. In short, our family provided the entertainment during the spiritual part of the evening.

I wasn't sold 100% on the idea of a "New Year's" wedding. But seeing everyone on that alter amid a sea of red pointsettias, I could see the attraction. The bride was radiant in her off the shoulder white gown, with her red lipstick and bouquet of roses.

The flower girl wanted to dance with John so badly. He almost took her hand, too, but just then Ben appeared, pointing and laughing, and that ended that.

Seven fully decorated and lit Christmas trees sat on a stage behind the head table. Centerpieces of red roses, boxwood and pine adorned the tables, one of which I got to take one home. (My second centerpiece win in a row, go October 6 birthday!)

The bride and groom performed a dance that I should know the name of, in addition to their first dance and the one at the end of the reception. This must be a trend. In October, my niece and her groom did the jitterbug, and now this couple, with their dipping and turning. At my wedding, Brian and I did a bastardized version of the foxtrot, and then I had too much to drink.

As a testament to how photogenic I am not, this is the best picture of me from the night, even though I have a tray of drinks on my head. As you can see, I have done a bang-up job of teaching the boys "dinnertime manners."

Toward the end of the night, about 20 boys found their way to the lounge. They looked like the brat pack, the lot of them lounged out on dark leather couches, white shirts untucked. As you can see, Ben and John wasted no time bonding with (i.e., throwing themselves on) their cousins.

Despite my misgivings, I am now a fan of the Christmas-New Year's wedding. I had a really great time. Even in the church, when John hucked the satin pillow, then himself, down the aisle during the priest's homily, forcing me to tackle him in 4-inch heals in front of God and everyone. Even then I was having a great time. Even driving home for 1 1/2 hours at 1 am, because my husband refused to sleep at his parents' house. That part was awesome, too.

In other news: John had his endoscopy this morning. His esophagus looks great, with no visable abnormalities, and he did fine with the anesthesia. If only I wasn't home with a sick 6 year old, a five year old recovering from an endoscopy, and an 18 month old who's into every damn thing, I'd be celebrating right now!