愛-Vey! My Meltdown Moment

First things first: Happy National Punctuation Day everyone! On this special day, let us all give thanks for the syncopation of the serial comma, the breathy pause of the semi-colon, and . . . wait for it . . . the anticipatory sigh of the ellipsis.

Gosh I'm a nerd.

Alrighty. Back to the recap. After Mr. HC and I finished our couples portraits, we met up with the rest of the wedding party (who were off rehearsing for the ceremony with Angel). By then, we were running behind schedule, and we had only about a half hour to get our group shots done before our bedecken was supposed to start. Oy vey, indeed.

Nobody warned me, but getting two large families together for group shots is like herding cats. Chatty cats. With short attention spans.

We somehow managed to corral the masses into formation for a few portraits, including this wonderful one of all of our living grandparents. We then hustled outside to take advantage of the good light and get a few shots with . . .

our adorable flower girl,

the handsome (and beautiful) groomspeople,

and my oh-so-fabulous sisters- and friends-of-honor.

Sometime in the middle of all of this picture-taking, I started to have a meltdown.

All day long, I was the picture of giddy zen (imagine a bonsai tree with streamers). But as our schedule ran later and later . . . and guests began to arrive and wander into our shots . . . and family members wandered out of our shots as they got distracted by arriving friends and acquaintances . . . I came closer and closer to losing it.

It was embarrassing.

In retrospect, my impending meltdown had nothing to do with the hotel misdirecting guests or members of the wedding party wandering off. I think I was so adamant about not being stressed and, more importantly, not stressing anyone else out that day that I not only failed to ask for help when I needed it, but also suppressed any and all anxiety I was feeling.

Mr. HC, seeing the pathetic little tears roll down my face, folded me into his arms in a corner. Our rabbi, who is 50% teacher, 40% psychiatrist, and 10% zen master, sequestered us into a room for some deep breathing. My wonderful and intuitive bridal party, with not a word from me, took charge of the wandering guests situation and directed the new arrivals away from our bedecken room and to the ceremony site.

I think so many of us (particularly the Weddingbee crowd?) are so determined not to be "bridezilla" that we don't ask for help or tell other people when we are feeling overwhelmed. What I realized, though, is that those who were nearest and dearest not only wanted to help but were amazing at it.

I wish I had been smart enough to recognize this before I ruined my makeup!

How are you at asking for help and handling stress? And married bees, did you have a melt-into-an-ugly-puddle moment on your wedding day?

Photos by Leigh Miller Photography, Luna Photography, and Della Chen Photography.

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愛-Vey! Wedding Portraits - Behind the Scenes

Hellooo (shy wave)! I'm Mrs. Hot Cocoa, and I used to blog here. Sorry I disapparated into the void (a.k.a. the new house we just bought and moved into). After a month of constructing IKEA furniture with unpronounceable names and learning to do homeownerish things like mow the lawn and fix the boiler, I'm back to pick up where we left off: bride and groom portraits.

I know, I know. NOT exciting. But I thought I'd let you in on the secret of what actually was happening while we were shooting our seemingly oh-so-romantic portraits.

Here's a typical bride and groom photo: I'm looking dreamily into the distance, while Mr. HC seems to be adoringly nuzzling his beautiful bride.

Right.

Here's what's actually happening during this shot: We plop down on a couch on the hotel patio, behind two (very nice and accommodating) strangers who are enjoying a mid-day snack of overpriced smores. Our photographers interrupt the romantic tete-a-tete these people are sharing and ask them to duck to get out of the shot, which they do without (audible) complaint. Meanwhile, embers from our fire pit are flying into my veil, and I'm beginning to feel a bit like a smore myself. That faraway look in my eyes? That's me imagining the headline on the LA Times the next day: "Hotel Destroyed After Bride Combusts."

Here's another bride and groom portrait: I'm still looking dreamily into the distance and affecting an air of hauteness. Mr. HC is just supposed to look cool.

Of course, what is actually happening is this: Our wonderful photographers, in an effort to stage a romantic shot, say to Mr. HC, "Get closer to her. Smell her cheek."

"Smell her cheek?" That's one step removed from "pull my finger."

Since we have the sense of humor of a sixth-grade boy, Mr. HC and I find it hilarious. I am sure I whisper "that's what she said" under my breath, Mr. HC licks my cheek instead of smelling it, and we burst into ugly-face laughter.

Our poor photographers. They say (with either hopefulness or desperation), "How about we try something else?" I jump on the top of the banquette, and they snap away before we do something silly to ruin the shot.

Here's one last example. They say to me, "Walk slowly so that we can capture the movement of your gown."

Of course, instead of just walking like the runway diva I'm supposed to be, I giddily twirl like Julie Andrews on a diet of pop rocks and soda pop.

That's not to say that when called upon, I wasn't sometimes able to work it, ANTM style:

I'm totally smiling with my eyes, Tyra!

What are you and your spouse or fiance like in front of the camera? Awesome and fierce? Or dorky and awkward like us?

Kisses (and sympathies for having to deal with us) to Leigh Miller Photography, Luna Photography, and Della Chen Photography.

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