How We Ruined the Wedding

To set the tone of this blog, here is a story about how Khan ruined someone's wedding.

Last month we attended the wedding of two of The Scientist’s friends. This was the first time several of his buddies had seen Khan, so we were anxious to show everyone what a Perfect Angel he was, and thus what Superior Parents we are.

Since The Scientist was a groomsman, keeping Khan corralled was all on me. I did pretty well during the rehearsal and the dinner, if I do say so myself. He spent most of the rehearsal attempting to electrocute himself at an unsecured outlet in the back of the church; I spent most of the rehearsal retrieving him with a firm-but-loving “No.”. Excellent, I thought. Surely everyone was impressed with my Supernanny-like patience and tenacity. The weekend was off to a good start.

At the wedding, Khan played quietly on the floor during the processional. I was getting his bottle out of the diaper bag just as the bride reached the groom at the front of the church. And at that moment, Khan lost his balance, tumbled over, and banged his head on the pew.

Now, Khan bumps his head on various surfaces approximately 2, 639 times a day. Usually he gets back up, blinks a couple times, and crawls off to wreak havoc elsewhere.

Not this time. No, this time, in front of 200 people, in a large church with awesome acoustics, during the most important moment in the lives of two people we care about, Khan screamed.

I’d never heard him scream like this before. I’d never heard anyone scream like this before. It was like every tortured soul in Hell joined forced with every teenage slut from every slasher movie ever made, and they all cried out with one voice.

I didn’t wait for the horrified glares. I grabbed Khan in one hand, the bottle in the other, and bolted. Not easy to do in strappy sandals and a floor-length dress.
In the vestibule I crammed the nipple into his mouth and sat on the floor. He sucked down the bottle, and then I made a doubly horrifying discovery: it was pouring rain, so I couldn’t take him outside, and I’d left his pacifier in the church. When the formula was gone, I resorted to let him chew on my fingers to keep him quiet (Khan was teething, and still is teething, and has been teething pretty much constantly since he was 4 months old).

After the ceremony, everyone streamed out of the church. And, to my surprise, no one glowered at me. No one chastised me for being a bad mom or accused me of ruining the couple’s chance at happiness. They were probably just too shocked by my fingers, which looked like they’d been chewed by a rabid shrew.

With shrunken ego and a throbbing hand, I navigated the reception (which consisted of three hours of me pulling Khan away from an unsecured electrical outlet…). And you know what? The wedding wasn’t ruined. Everyone who was supposed to get married that day, got married. And we all got cake, except for Khan because he was too little.

Your kids are going to surprise you, usually at the worst possible time. It’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t make you a bad parent. Just be prepared to sacrifice your dignity- and your fingers- at a moment’s notice.