Post-party depression...

I'm feeling pretty flat at the moment. The last of our the big 'festivus' events are over with part two of the wedding last saturday (you can read about part one here) and now our social calendar is pretty empty for the next couple of months. I had a long list of jobs I had been putting off until after the wedding (clean out the fridge, reunite the spice girls, broker peace in the middle east - you know that kind of thing) and now that 'after the wedding' is finally here I really don't feel like I have the energy or motivation to tackle any of it. I feel very much like Steve Martin in father of the Bride sitting amongst the rubble and wondering what just happened.

The wedding was really lovely. I didn't take any pictures (not even one) but honestly, as those of you with small children will know, trying to get ready for a wedding with little ones is an extreme sport in itself. At any given moment it is entirely possible that someone will choke on a bobby pin, brand themselves with the straightening iron or paint themselves with mascara. My better half left early to help drop off the wedding cake so I was flying solo, and I have to admit there was a point where I was trying to do my hair while two certain little people screamed non stop and pulled at my legs and dress and I felt like putting everyone into bed and not going! Luckily there was a fantastic professional photographer there and you can check out some more pics over at her blog.

There were lots of little handmade touches (which as you know really floats my boat). My favourite of which would have to be the bouquet - made from old pages of a book (I'm hoping a romantic novel) - L.O.V.E.! The bunting (all 40 meters of it), despite various fits of despondency on my part along the way, looked rather pretty in the end, even if I do say so myself. I assembled it from a rainbow of vintage linens I sourced on etsy… one of the guests even told me she spotted her favourite sheet from the 70s amongst the prints, I'm always happy to inspire a little nostalgia!

I had bought myself a cute little vintage 1960s dress which I was excited to debut but sadly it was a casualty of the evening. I went home mid wedding to pop the kids to bed (don't worry you don't need to call child services there was a sitter there!) and Turi managed to rip open the front of my dress while I was lifting him into his cot. Thankfully I had a spare dress in my wardrobe so I just got changed and it wasn't too much of a drama. Will have to tackle the dress repair when I am over my post-party depression.