But, wait...there's more!

Well, the heels were the perfect height, even if the dress needed to be taken in just a tad more.

Sigh. And not in a good way.

But the solution, "just add some more padding" was not going to work. My poor fiance would have been hard pressed to keep the look of surprise off his face had I appreared at the end of the aisle more "blessed" than I had been the day before.

What can I say, though? I am who I am, and he loves me for who I am, and the dress just had to be taken in a bit more.

And my Uncle Bruno forbid me to lose any more weight. Not that I have lost a ton, but I am proud to say that there will be no "muffin-top" on this bride!

Now, if I can only refuse to eat the whole basket of cheese fries the next time we go to Snuffer's. Or maybe just not go to Snuffer's in general.

Anyway, things are still good...calm...even tempered as we approach the 4 week mark. But then again there is still more stuff to do. We have to make sure all the right people know all of the right information. We have to make sure we know the right information. We have to finalize wedding cake options, find napkins, figure out how my hubby and I will get back to the hotel after the reception (Car and driver, or the party bus with the rest of the crowd? Whose to say which will be funner? And yes, that was a nod to Legally Blonde.) And I have to come up with an official plan for the weekend, too.

And then. There are the thank you notes.

Not that I'm not grateful for the generosity of our dear friends and family. I am. Entirely, completely, fully. Grateful from the bottom of my heart. And humbled. Humbled by people who don't need to give me a gift to show me how much they care but who do anyway. I am honored and humbled and grateful.

But I am bad at writing thank you notes. Mainly because I feel so strongly in the first place, it takes me a long time to write each one. I haven't found the secret formula for the short, genuine, sweet note that can work for my future grandmother-in-law, my best friend from college, my co-worker, and the person in the congregation whose name I can't remember. If you have such a formula, please, please let me know.

Until then, the only good solution I can think of is for my darling fiance to grab a pen, flex his hand, and get to writing. His penmanship is better than mine anyway...