I’m happy to announce that our Vegas Elvis wedding has been booked for October 16th! I still can’t believe how much has happened to me over the last twelve months. Last September, I found out I was pregnant, then in November, I was fired for being pregnant, then I got engaged in January, had a baby in May, moved in with family in July and now I’m getting hitched. Sheesh. What a long, strange trip its been…

I still haven’t found a dress for the wedding. And yes, I am aware that I am cutting it super close here, but I am having trouble finding anything I like due to this post-baby body. I am basically the same size as I was (everywhere except the boobage) but things are distributed differently. And it is weird. And it makes dress shopping nearly impossible. Also, and I think I have mentioned this before, my knockers are enormous. And I’m finding that, because of this, I’m having to find even BIGGER dresses than before and then I just look…well…frumpy. So…there it is. My boobs have taken over my life.

I have to say, I’m really not even concerned with being all fancy and perfect on our day, because, let’s face it, we’re getting married in Las Vegas and we are totally not trying to impress anyone. I just want to look put together and happy. And if my boobs cooperate, looking happy won’t be a problem for me.

I have to say, I am super excited about this vacation. The wedding will be awesome, but the vacation is going to be stellar. One of my cousins (who I am not super close with) is getting married on the same day in Las Vegas. And it is super awesome, because it means that some of my family will be there. They won’t be coming to OUR wedding, but they will be hopping all around the city for the whole week. So, I’m looking forward to all of that debauchery.

It has definitely been hard to adjust to living with a five-year-old and two more adults. MB’s family really is great, but living with them can be a little hard for me. Mainly because  a) I don’t like noise, b) I hate dirty dishes, and c) sometimes I’m not wearing pants. Living with a little kid who isn’t yours and is sort of…well…disobedient and hyper as hell…I think would be hard for anyone. But then there’s me. And I’m a little OCD and have some pretty strong opinions on parenting. Or at least, how one should NOT parent. So, it is everything I can do just to keep my mouth shut sometimes. Kids are noisy. Disobedient kids are noisy and irritating.

And the dirty dishes. Holy crap, the dirty dishes. I can’t even talk about them. It hurts my little anal retentive heart.

The worst part though, is probably the privacy issue. It isn’t like anyone just barges into our room at all hours or anything. And the kid has, for the most part, gotten the message that our room is basically OFF LIMITS. But MB’s sister definitely did get a nice view of my ass the other day and MB’s mom definitely went through my closet yesterday to borrow shoes from me. This is absolutely NOT COOL if you are me, by the way. And I did have to say something this morning to her, even though I really didn’t want to step on any toes (but I guess since she was wearing MY shoes, it was all good), but I needed her to understand that I’m not a fan of people (ANYONE) rifling through my things when I’m not home. Or if I am home. Or…you know…just ever. I had all night last night to calm down to prevent flying off the handle about it, so I think that, by the time I finally got to talk to her, I was over it enough that I didn’t sound like a crazy person.  But man…that’s exactly the stuff that makes me hate living with people.

But I’m still grateful to be here. And I love every one of them to pieces. I just hope they’re prepared, if they don’t stop invading my privacy, to see a whole lot more than they bargained for.

Because, for real. Sometimes, I’m not wearing pants.