They are wed!

The wedding is done.

I'm so tired from the intense day that began at 7.15am yesterday that I am just not able to put together anything coherent about it. Briefly, it was lovely, the bride and groom were lovely, the reception was fun - for the most part - and there were no significant dramas apart from the rain. Here is the speech I gave to the newlyweds last night. I shall be back later with pictures.

You all know Greta Garbo by now – goodness knows she’s not an easy person to overlook! But I’ve known her longer than anyone else here, followed closely by her Auntie Kaye who was there the minute she came into the world. And I’d like to share a little of my impressions of Greta as she’s come to this point in her life.

Greta Garbo has always had a unique and refreshing take on the world. Taking her for a walk was always an adventure – from the names she gave objects, like calling dandelions “twinkle-stars”, to the sobs she once spent on a dead blackbird she saw on the footpath, to the way she just ran and ran from the moment we left the house to the minute we got home. And she’s been giving me a run for my money ever since!

Greta’s also always had a keen sense of fairness – TT will attest to that, as Greta Garbo was vigilant when they were growing up that her sister not get an iota more than she did! – and she had a fairly brutal way of putting it. I am sorry that my father isn’t here to laugh with us as I recall her asking him very earnestly, “Grandad, is Grandma your slave?” Well, maybe he wouldn’t laugh because he certainly didn’t then.

She’s also always been extremely creative and intelligent, and sociable. She walked very early, and then ran as soon as she could. She was speaking in sentences well before her first birthday, and was insistent on engaging anyone she saw. Her artwork has frequently overawed her family, and most of us have something painted by her hanging on our walls at home that wouldn’t look out of place in a gallery.

What I didn’t realise until perhaps the last few years is just what a tough cookie GG can be under that effusive exterior. For instance, despite a terrible case of glandular fever and some other life complications, she soldiered through her VCE exams and scored in the top 4% of the state. (Sorry, GG, couldn’t resist a little brag, since we all know where you got your brains from.)

GG’s life hasn’t always been easy, and she and TT had a fairly turbulent beginning. Her confidence has sometimes been shaken, and she hasn’t always seen the beautiful, talented person in the mirror that we know her to be.

I can’t tell you how wonderful it is for me, as a mother, to see that she has someone else in her life now, who clearly sees that same beautiful young woman. In SonInLaw she has found a decent, caring, compassionate, spiritual, funny young man. A young man who has survived many meal times in our house, which is no small feat and a testament to his character! A young man that we are proud and happy to have as a part of our family, and who we are happy to see be part of a new family with GG.

GG and SonInLaw – you are both so young. This is typically where I would offer you advice, and so because clearly it is too late to say, “No don’t do it!!!” (just kidding, I promise!) I will tell you what has worked for me.

Think of the reading from Corinthians you heard today. Be patient. Be aware that you will not be the same people in ten years time that you are now, and be prepared to love and respect the people that you become.

Understand that you will grow and change, but that growth and change is not a threat or a problem to be overcome, but an opportunity to embrace an even richer relationship.

Be kind to one another. Be generous in allowing each other to have flaws, be prepared to put the other first as often as you can, and remember that God has brought you together in a wonderful relationship that is greater than the sum of its parts. When you run into difficulties – and you will run into difficulties – remember this day and the things that brought you to it, and reflect on your shared memories from this day forward.

Finally, I’d like to remind you, GG, of your grandmother. I’m so sad that she can’t be here to share your special day, you know how much she loved you and would have wanted to be here. Her rule in life, what she would have said to you is: start as you mean to go on. And be true to yourself. I can’t think of much better advice.
So I’d like to make a toast to GG, to my new son in law, and to a long and happy marriage.

I'm not losing a daughter, I'm gaining a son. Right?

I've just returned from Greta Garbo's flat, where she and her sister and I have been spending time reminiscing over school experiences, family laughs and upsets, and trading insults. In typical GG fashion, she had spent the day unwisely, not eating, and fashioning an eclectic menagerie of animals out of lumps of potato-starch-packing. She made me a frog with a pink nose. Her lounge table was covered in Lush products from a gift pack, and she was in her pyjamas and so, so young.

Tomorrow she is going to marry her love, a wonderful young man who we respect and care for a great deal. I felt I should have imparted much wisdom but in my normal tied-up manner I couldn't bring myself to do much more than joke and poke at her, telling her that not only did we like him a great deal, we liked him more than we liked her, and that we would want to keep him if they ever divorced. I've saved the profound things, the things that will make me cry, for my speech at the reception tomorrow night.

I don't remember the night before my first wedding. I remember the morning, getting ready, leaving the flat with my home-made dress and my five-months-pregnant stomach. Pregnant with GG - this precious little baby who woke up the resilience in me that had lain dormant until that point. The little baby who helped me birth the adult I needed to become. My wedding then was a backyard affair with salads and cold meat and bemused relatives who treated us like kids at a birthday party. This will be the full bridezilla catastrophe and I must say, I'm kind of looking forward to it.

Oh, the irony

I'm about to post two contradictory things, one little item on "emotional vampires," and a bit of a vent.

I read this online today and I could name at least two people who fit the description with whom I spend a lot of time.

How Energy Vampires Drain Your Positive Energy

Energy vampires drain positive energy in many ways, such as:

• Intruding on your life, ignoring boundaries and privacy (energy vampires don't think of you).
• Making big deals out of nothing. Energy vampires are often called "drama queens" because they can easily turn a broken nail into a Shakespearean tragedy. Negative energy spreads from everyday events.
• Complaining constantly about their partners, jobs, children, bad luck, and illnesses. Energy vampires like to vent.
• Criticizing your hair, appearance, job, children, partner, friends, and pets (energy vampires aren't positive).
• Not taking "no" for an answer. Energy vampires don't consider your needs.
• Being unrelentingly negative. Their negative energy is unrelentless, and energy vampires drain your positive energy by encouraging you to be negative, too.
• Blaming everyone else for their problems (energy vampires don't take responsibility).

I need to learn to set boundaries and refuse to get dragged into it, I really do.

Anyway.

Last week, we found out we were having a boy baby. It sounds so prosaic! And yet it was so emotional, and all the more so for the fact that it was so very unexpected. I still haven't unraveled all of the issues contained in this delightful surprise.

One thing I will have to contend with however is the startling revelation (startling to me anyway as the feminist mother of five daughters) that the pressure on boys to be Boys™ is even stronger than it is for girls (to be Girls™, that is). Generally, whenever it was apparent the progeny was carrying two x chromosomes, the generalisations were along the lines of "Your poor Beloved," or "You'll never be alone, will you?" The most I can retort to those is, really, "He doesn't realise how hard done by he is yet," and, "Oh, bugger."

What has come out of the blue closet has been, well, revelatory.

Apparently, this child with the y chromosome will have to "stick together" with Beloved. I wonder why - are the girls and I suddenly going to surround them and throw stones whilst chanting "boy! germs! boy! germs!"?

Apparently, boys love their mummies. (Except for the ones that don't, but maybe I only meet them when they are adults.) I'm in for some monumental loving then, because as far as I can tell, girls love their mummies, and their daddies, too.

Beloved will find himself bonding closer with this baby. Is it possible to be closer than he is with Miss Four-Going-On-Forty, for whom he has been the primary carer for the past four and a half years? Is that such a superficial thing that the presence of testicles on the next child will allow a bond so much stronger?

Boys like cars, and building things. Which is good, because at least half of my girls do too, and I've got boxes of cars, trains and legos that they still love to play with. And while he's at it, he can play cricket with Stompy, and test out all the electrical circuitry on her home made gadgets, and discuss how cool arthropods and spiders are. All whilst getting absolutely filthy.

And, apparently, boys love blue. Girls love pink, sure, but in the clothing aisle, their wider tastes are reflected in the green, red, orange, purple, black, white, yellow and every other imaginable colour (even blue) clothing provided for them. In the boys' aisle, there is every shade of blue. Or, perhaps, blue mixed with some brown check. Or a bit of green. But don't forget the blue. Dark blue, especially. Because, as we've seen above, you need practical colours that Boys™ can get dirty.

I may be completely naive. After all, I haven't had an opportunity to observe any differences with this baby yet. It may be that he turns out to be a complete Boy™. Or, like many boys I know, he may be useless with his hands and love reading. Hate football, but be into fabrics and other creative pursuits. He may be quiet and contemplative. He may be anything at all.

What I'd like, world, is for you to just back off and give him the chance to be what it is he's meant to be. Thanks.