every party has a pooper

This afternoon, I had the distinct pleasure of watching a very special movie with some very special ladies.
My daughter, my mother, my sister and I all cuddled up on the couch, and watched Father of the Bride: Part 2
as a steady rain pelted the house around us.
I guess now would be a good time to admit that this movie has a very special place in my heart.
Father of the Bride is my movie with my dad.
We have watched together, countless times,
and cried together, countless times,
the last time being 2 nights before my own wedding.
It’s just our thing.
I guess now would also be a good time to admit that Part 2, which is a little more goofy, a little less plausible and just, in all respects, a little more sequel-like,
has been saved on my DVR for approximately 2 years.
I had been waiting for the perfect time to watch it,
a moment that was peaceful,
and baby-ish,
and today was just that.
My mom and I laughed as we saw Annie Banks McKenzie make several false-alarm trips to the hospital.
hmmmmmmm………familiar?
We reminisced as we saw George Banks pacing around the hospital hallways,
as my mom told me how vividly she remembered that moment in our own lives, just 4 months ago.
We got the chills, and teary eyed, as the doctor came out and told the nervous, waiting daddy that his new baby girl was perfect, healthy and beautiful.
I also couldn’t help but to laugh, as I remembered the very first time I saw this movie, with a dear, old friend since Elementary School, and how, at that time, pregnancy, babies and motherhood seemed so far away.
It’s amazing how the same movie can seem so much different
depending on when
and with whom
you watch it.
In all, the most palpable feeling that this movie gives me is gratitude.
I am grateful for a day of snuggling with my family.
I am grateful for a movie that has stood the test of time, and grown up with me.
And, most of all, I am grateful that we did not watch this movie last summer, because if we had, the theme of this movie could have hit a little too close to home, if you know what I mean. And as much as I love babies, and as much as I love my mom, I am so grateful to have her as the baby’s Bubbie,
and to have her, all to ourselves, as we cuddle up with her,
on a rainy, Sunday morning at home.

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