Category Archives: Wedding

A year ago – I said yes.

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Last year, I didn’t post about my engagement because things were all levels of crazy around here… and writing wasn’t high on my priority list. But, this year, things are a little less chaotic, so here it goes… in Christian’s words:

Planning the engagement was tricky for me, I spent several months trying to find the perfect moment to surprise Megan and catch her off guard. I’d plan something and I’d end up having to work late, I’d plan something else and find out we had other plans. I finally made the decision to propose after Memorial Day weekend – nothing was going to get in my way. Megan didn’t understand why I would want that Tuesday off, but I managed to take it off anyways. Megan’s Dad, Karl, had also recently moved about 45 minutes away, meaning I had to talk Megan into making a quick trip up there the weekend before so I could get the address for the big day. She had absolutely no idea what I was planning.

The day of the proposal: While Megan was at work, I put my plans into action – with stops at the flower shop, the craft store (for luminary supplies) and a quick apartment cleaning, the stage was set. After lunch with my family I drove to Lakewood to ask Karl for his blessing. I asked, he said yes, and we spent the rest of the time talking war movies. From there I made the quick, 45 minute, jaunt to Cathy’s (Megan’s Mom’s) house to also ask her blessing. After a few minutes of talking, I asked her too. She gave us her blessing and then it was off to finalize the top-secret preparations.

I swung by Megan’s apartment to grab Charlie. After Charles was safe in my possession I ran home and set the scene. I lit the candles in the luminaries, sprinkled the rose petals on the floor and put out her bouquet. Once I was sure everything was in place I called her to see where she was on her drive home – being very careful not to alert her of my plans. She was almost there!

Megan has a garage door opener to my house, and she usually came in through the garage. I took the batteries out over the weekend, meaning she’d have to walk around and come in the front door. The plan worked like a charm. She rang the front door bell and finally attempted to open the already unlocked door. She took one look around and asked me what was going on with a big smile on her face. I tried to explain what I was doing as she continued, to repeatedly, ask what was going on. Megan turned bright red as I got down on one knee, told her she meant the world to me and that I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anyone else, and proposed. She said YES!

We called all of our family to share the news. After everyone was officially in the know I took her to J. Alexander’s to celebrate – it was one of our very first official dates and one of our favorite restaurants (fire grilled artichokes anyone?). 

Some pictures of the day, compliments of my iPhone:

Christian (and his helper Charlie) waiting for me to walk in!

Aww, pretty flowers. How romantic!

Check out the red cheeks!

The ring – so perfect!

Who am I again?

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I got married… and I’ve needed a little decompressing time from all the stress and craziness that is planning a wedding, meaning I haven’t done a lot of talking about it. Yet.

But, there’s still one thing that lingers, one thing that I haven’t gotten done (beside mailing out my addressed and sealed thank you cards, oops), and that’s figuring out what to do with my last name. I signed my marriage certificate Megan Stecker. Let’s all just take a minute to really roll that around in our mouths. Megan. Stecker. It’s got the same first letters as Stout, but feels so absolutely foreign when paired with my name.

My whole life I thought I would keep my maiden name, that I would remain a strong woman that never changes her identity for anyone. Well that anyone happened to be Christian and after 24 years of believing to the contrary, I’m not keeping my name. But, I also haven’t change it. Yet. I can’t seem to find the will power to change my name and leave Stout behind. To say goodbye to all the “Ah, you must love beer” comments and references to a good Guinness when people read my name tag. It feels like I’m saying au revoir to a piece of me, severing the connection to my family and leaving behind years of steadfast stoutness.

Most of the girls I know that have gotten married, logged onto Facebook and swapped their name the day after their wedding in hysterical jubilation. It’s been over a month and I’m still hesitant to even pull that trigger. None of this is because I don’t love Christian or that I’m having doubts about our relationship. It’s all change, and change is hard for me.

I promised Christian that I would work on changing my name the week of Thanksgiving. That’s next week. Seriously? And, I’m still having a hard time fully embracing it.  Did you change your name when you got married? Was it hard or easy? I’d love to know!

*Image by: Paul Watson

It’s like a fairy tale… only better.

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I’m getting married today. To the man that I love. To this man:

I get this feeling inside. This warm, overarching feeling. A feeling that tells me you’re right, that we’re right – wrapping and intertwining itself around me. My day is spent with sudden longings for you, remembrances of moments and an excitement that reaches my toes. You’re it for me. I love you and there are days when it’s so overwhelming I can’t even put it into words. I want you for forever, for eternity. I want to grow with you, know you deeper than I ever thought I would and love you more than we thought possible.

To the rest of my life? Yes, please! Hooray!

*Image by: All Things Homie

In the blink of an eye.

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Oh, hi, fall. You’re here already? Pretty sure I just blinked my left eye and it was the 4th of July, so where the heck did you come from? Maybe if I blink my right eye tomorrow will be Christmas? I’m guessing this will probably happen regardless of whether I blink an eye, take a nap or click my ruby shoes together. Time flies when you’re having fun, er, are busy.

I love fall and I’m saying my pretty prayers that the leaves keep them selves stuck to tree branches around here for another week to make for a lovely fall wedding, and so I can enjoy it afterwards! The details, final touches and everything else feels like they might finally be falling into place for the big day. And, I’m just going to say it… I’M GETTING MARRIED THIS WEEK! And, I couldn’t be happier.

Wedding Bell Anxiety.

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With C and I’s wedding happening next month you could say that the stress level around here is running just a touch high. My mom can’t sleep because she worries about everything that needs to get done, everyone coming into town and the limited time we have left to get it all done. I can’t sleep at night… adding, deleting and reviewing my, what seems to be, never ending list of things to order, things to do, and things to make. At 12 am, trying to determine just the right amount of flowers for the centerpieces and the color of shoes to go under my dress just seems vitally important and sleep can wait.

But, none of this beats the anxiety that my Dad is experiencing. Not only is he worried about how I’m getting down the aisle, how he’s getting down the aisle, who’s pushing the wheel chair and whether or not he’ll stand up… he’s dreaming about it too. Not any dream, mind you. A dream, that I believe, would be haunting for any man. It went a little something like this:

My Dad: You think you’ve got it bad, I’ve been dreaming about the wedding.

My Mom: Really?

My Dad: Yeah……. Only in my dream…. I’m the bride. And, no one is showing up for the wedding. I repeatedly ask why no one is showing up and finally find out it’s because they’re charging $22.50 per plate to come. It was awful.

My Mom: <insert hysterical laughter>

It puts it all into perspective. My dad is dreaming about being the bride, which is not only slightly disturbing, but also not a particularly attractive image. I’m not sure any of the other details can top that.

 

Let them eat cake.

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Let’s talk cake here for a second. I love cake. There are a lot of people out there that don’t really care for cake (ahem, my father) and would rather settle of a DQ ice cream cone. I am not one of them. Me + cake = heavenly love forever. So as I mentioned earlier that we were going to be doing cake tastings I was nothing but ecstatic about the venture. Think this through with me, free cake, lots of flavors of cake, free, I get to try them. Um, hello, why have I not thought of this before?

So, last Saturday Christian, my mom and I embarked on our Colorado Springs cake tasting spree. We first stopped at Boonzaaijers Dutch Bakery… their vanilla raspberry cake blew my mind. It was delicious, sugary, and so so good. However, the rest of the flavors didn’t really jive with my high cake expectations. But don’t worry, it wasn’t time to fret because we had two more stops before we were going to throw in the cake tasting towel.

Next up Marvels Cake Boutique. Now, not to sound too high maintenance, but I was instantly thrilled that we each got our own bites to taste as opposed to sharing a small piece among the three of us. More cake for me, heck yes! We love, love, loved the spice cake (and what could be more perfect for a fall wedding, nothing you say? I agree). My mom got chills up her spine when we tried the almond (hello, yum). We decided that the chocolate and red velvet were winners as well. By the end of the tasting I was so full that I honestly felt that if I had one more bite of anything I might explode, or die. Do you ever get that full? On top of the immense fullness going on in my abdominal region the sugar coma, must nap now stage of the afternoon was in full swing.

Though I was borderline catatonic, the decision couldn’t be made just yet. While Marvels upped the ante, we had to be certain that there wasn’t another cake out there with our names on it. So, that’s just what we did.

Little London Cake Shoppe here we come (if not a little more haggard that when we started out). They handed us a box full of cake. Not a few slices, but a box, which I promptly forgot to take a picture of. At any other phase in my life I would have been overwhelmed by cake joy, but the thought of having to try 14 more cake flavors and two frostings had my hurl meter beeping at high alert. I never thought I would say it, but I couldn’t fathom putting another piece of cake into my mouth.

But, I bet you can guess what I did. I put 14 more bites of cake in my mouth, followed by 2 more bites of frosting. It was delicious, or as delicious as cake can be after eating it for hours on end. From there I proceeded to swear off cake for life and try to talk Christian in to serving a veggie tray with sprinkles at the wedding in place of the sweet, debilitating cake we ate all afternoon. It was a no go, but worth a shot anyways.

After some long and hard discussion, we’ve made the decision to go with Marvels — but the flavor combinations? Top secret. On another note, my birthday is next week and I feel deeply saddened to think I may not be able to eat cake… I’m crossing my fingers that my cake appetite returns in the next few days. Not that I’ll complain if we end up eating Strawberries and whipped cream — my new addiction.