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My fingers splayed across my rounded belly. I pressed gently, whispered the name I’d kept secret for two pregnancies before this one, though never got to use–the name of my daughter. I’d wanted sons, but I’d always imagined I’d also have at least two little girls. And so along with wooden soldiers, and soccer, and frogs in pockets, I’d also have china dolls, and tea parties, and diaphanous fairy costumes (assuming my daughters would be girly like me!). But this was not to be.

For the birth of my firstborn, in Inverness, Scotland, I hadn’t been told the gender of my baby. And so for all nine months and two weeks of my pregnancy, I waited, wondered, scribbled two sets of names. We wallpapered the nursery with blue floral Laura Ashley wallpaper, supposing this would suit either a boy or a girl, and bought clothes in creams, greens, and yellows. But to the hospital I brought with me two fleece receiving blankets–a pink and a blue.

And then he was born. Of course I quickly fell in love with my firstborn–his generous lick of blond hair, his grey-blue eyes, his little scrunched-up face with the squared jaw that clearly said, “I’m your son.”

For the next two years I thoroughly revelled in all that it meant to be the mother of little boy (I call him the Professor). We put on wellies and tramped through puddles at our local castle. Threw rocks in the village burn. Read 17 books at bedtime.

Then we decided it was time for a sibling, and wouldn’t have imagined that it would take two years of trying and crying and infertility tests before I would finally conceive. And so nearly five years after the birth of our first son, our second son (I call him the General) was born, in Dundee, Scotland. Bright spark, black-eyed little boy.

And we joked, a time or two, about getting a little girl, though things like adoption were of course for other people, not for us.

Now, two years later and a continent away, I was pregnant with my third, and was days away from discovering the gender of this baby. I wanted a daughter this time–so desperately–yet at the same time, something deeper pulled at my soul. Something I could not fully recognize or explain. So even as the name of my little girl formed on my lips, I lifted my head and prayed, “Lord, you know I’d really love a daughter. But if this baby is a son, I’ll know that one day there is going to be a little girl out there who needs us.”

And he was a boy. Silky-soft, curly-topped butterball of a baby (I call him Mr. Waddlesworth). And over the next year I loved him fiercely–this baby who was all smiles and drool and chunk. But I also questioned myself, found myself regretting that prayer, wondering if God would really hold me to it?

A fourth child was born. And as if to make sure I understood Him, God sent another boy (I call him Little Bear, though to this day he drags around a stuffed bunny). And after four such difficult labors and deliveries, I knew this must be my last. Four boys. What a wonder. What a sight! So handsome. A boymom, that’s me. And I pushed away the thought of a daughter for a while.

Though over the years we’d joked a time or two more about “getting a girl,” it was never even a full conversation. Never anything we researched or seriously talked about. Adoption was for other sorts of people. Special, brave people who were not like us. Life was hectic enough with four squirrelly boys without adding anything to it. And yet . . . in boxes tucked out of sight, I kept my American Girl Samantha doll. My Victorian dress-up clothes. My Anne of Green Gables memorabilia. All for “someday.”

“You’ll have daughters-in-law!” people would tell me with a smile. “And granddaughters!” And I would smile back, truly thankful for the hope of these things. But I couldn’t forget my daughter. Couldn’t forget that prayer. Yet what was to be done?

Then late one night last December I was driving home from meeting some friends for coffee. I flicked on the radio, and landed on a Family Life Radio talk about adoption. I listened intently to the adoptive father speak about finding his daughter. About how after visiting the orphanage, he and his wife wanted to take all the kids home. And before I pulled into my driveway, I knew.

I wanted confirmation, however, that this feeling was more than my desperation or wishful thinking. After all, what if my husband, John, didn’t feel the same way? We were about to leave for a much-needed ten days away in Brazil, just the two of us. And so more than six years after the first prayer, I prayed a second time, this time saying, “Lord, if my feelings are right, and you really are telling me that you want us to adopt, I pray that John will bring up adoption while we are in Brazil.”

But what were the chances? We had never seriously talked about adoption, probably hadn’t even joked about it for a year or more, as far as I could recall. Yet the second night there,while enjoying a meal of chicken, rice, and yucca fries, he said it–“If you’re ready to adopt, we can get started when we get home.” And there it was.

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And so here we are–after mountains of paperwork, police checks, medical exams, references, talking to other adoptive parents, online education, and more I can’t even remember, we are nearly finished with our home study . . . and still have plenty of education, paperwork, and evaluations still to come. But it’s all worth it, because we are on the road to finding our daughter and bringing her home. Thankfully, God knows who and where she is. He has from the start.

Avonlea x

For more inspiration, bookishness, and mad stories of life homeschooling 4 wee men,

Find me on Instagram @happylittlesigh or Facebook @happylittlesigh

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Finding beauty in the everyday 

The great boot exchange, I call it. Snow boots hauled up, rain boots hauled down from their upstairs closet winter home. April now, and I’ll expect a spate of showers before the sultry of summer comes to stay.

The rain boots tumble from my arms. Frogs, and monkeys, and the green Hunters I like so much. Chatter, and light in my lads’ eyes as they recall past springs and puddles splashed.

Then I send them out with boots and brushes to wash away the winter mud, for boots must be stored away clean.

I peek from the dining room window and watch them sitting on the steps, lips pressed in earnest as their little hands scrub.

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Then I’m caught up for a while, sizing up which rain boots now fit who, and which can be given away—just another part of motherhood one wouldn’t think to list, though it takes an afternoon twice every year.

But I leave my work now, and step out. So new the spring, the grass yet a patch of green and straw.

Birdsong. Warmth. Flat blue beyond the branches bare.

I gasp. I’m gasping. And I cannot gulp enough of this sweet, this air.

And I watch my lads for a moment, as they laugh and run.

My curly top squats beneath our big old tree, and I’m called to see the wild violets growing there.

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A moment more, then in again to think of dinner.  And as my hands chop carrots into little discs, I think of this day. And I think of motherhood, and the labor of making a home. I think of how it’s disregarded. Seen as unfulfilling and of little worth. But I know otherwise.

And I sigh contentment for all I am and all I have. For the pleasure in this exchanging of boots. In this marking of the seasons, and remembering of dear times past.

I am building their memories, building their lives.

May my lads always find pleasure in order and in a job well done. May they find joy in little things. May they have thankful hearts. And may they one day go into the world with the strength that only a mother’s love can bring.

Avonlea x

Happy Little Sigh

Finding beauty in the everyday

For more inspiration, bookishness, and mad stories of life homeschooling 4 wee men,

Find me on Instagram @happylittlesigh or Facebook @happylittlesigh

 

 

March now, and so time to bring out my Daffodil needlepoint cushion that I bought my first year in Scotland. Time to replace my heart wreath on the porch with my Easter one. Time to purchase a hyacinth and marvel again as I watch it bloom. Little things that bring me joy, give my boys an appreciation for the passings seasons, and bring a bit of beauty to my home.

Beauty. That’s what my little corner of the Internet is supposed to be about. Opening our eyes to beautiful things–everyday, in the world around us. And I haven’t stopped looking, though I’ve been hibernating this winter, as much as I possibly could. The pause has done me good. I’ve been grateful for Arctic temps that meant canceled activities and an excuse to stay in. Grateful for the glorious sharp white light and blue winter skies that are so unusual for my state. Grateful just to rest.

But resting is not often simply resting, but often thinking, too. And I’ve asked myself again about this beauty and what it really means. And I know that beauty is more than a Pinterest-perfect home or wardrobe. More than an appreciation for nature. More than adventure, or being organized, or a success. Real beauty only exists in the external when it reflects the internal. Beauty, in its essence, is love.

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And so with the beautifying of my space comes the desire to lavish beauty on others. To welcome them to my home (or make my own family feel welcome here!). A space where they, themselves, are made to feel more beautiful because of how they are loved and served here. Loved and made to feel accepted and valued no matter what they’re wearing or what car they parked in my garage. Loved enough to be served a scrumptious feast on my best dishes–or enough to have pizza ordered so I can sit with them on the couch while they speak, whichever way is loving them best.

We do not always have to bring others into our home to bring them beauty. We can take it to them with a genuine smile, with a hug or warm handshake, with our focused attention as we ask about their life.

I’m reminded of a scene in Catherine Marshall’s book, Christy, when she visits the humble home of mountain woman Fairlight Spencer–“in a chipped cup she had put trillium and violets . . . ‘the very first,’ she told us, and unself-consciously reached out slender fingers to caress the flowers.” Next came gingerbread, and roasted chestnuts, and dulcimer music. The surroundings were humble, and the company could have been called that, too. But because there was yearning for the good and beautiful, and a desire to share it with their guests, the Spencer family lifted Christy’s heart.

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And that’s what real beauty–in our homes or on our faces–will do. It does not seek to invoke jealousy in others. It does not make them feel less. Instead it invites them into the beauty, makes them feel part of it. Gives them glimpses of the Author of beauty. Glimpses of His love.

May you find many a small violet or beam of sunshine to make you pause and smile this springtime. May the beauty you see bring you peace and make you both feel, and long to share, our Father’s love.

Avonlea x

For more inspiration, bookishness, and mad stories of life homeschooling 4 wee men,

Find me on Instagram @happylittlesigh or Facebook @happylittlesigh

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Finding beauty in the everyday 

Our Viking Summer

We said “No, thank you” to everything we could this summer. Library reading programs, and classes for the children, and fancy vacations. After a hectic year where we had something going seven days a week, plus frequent trips to the dentist for the Professor’s retainer (Yay! for the middle school years!), and frequent trips to the natural health doctor for me (a real, true Yay! to finding out why I’ve been so very tired for the past decade), I was ready to say “No” to those things. This made us able to say “Yes, please” to a lot more of what we needed, body and soul. Hikes in the woods. Trips to the beach. Sitting on the porch eating popsicles and playing Yahtzee. And Vikings. We said “Yes” to Vikings, too.

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We’ve never studied a topic over the summer before, but it worked out just perfect. We had loads of time to read all the books, watch all the documentaries, make all the costumes, and best of all–build a Viking Longship in our playroom! My boys soaked it all up, and we had loads of Viking battles fought in the back garden (and sometimes in the house!) as they re-enacted what they’d learned. I’d love to share with you the resources my four wee men and I used during our Viking summer.

The books we read–

  • Leif the Lucky by Ingri & Edgar Parin D’Aulaire ( a GORGEOUS picture book telling the story of Leif Erikson, son of Eric the Red. If you aren’t familiar with the D’Aulaire’s books, you’re in for a treat).42124199_295240854406877_305622047352946688_n
  • The Vikings by Elizabeth Janeway (a living history chapter book that weaves the details of Viking life into a story on the life of Leif and Eric). 42201333_476219392878002_208868442902626304_n
  • The Story of the Vikings Coloring Books by A.G. Smith (a detailed coloring book that includes descriptions on each page, and quite a broad history of the Vikings).

Those days we had to travel and couldn’t read, we listened!

  • The Dragon and the Raven – The extraordinary adventures of G.A. Henty (an enthralling audio drama with an impressive cast, including actors from The Hobbit, and British drama Call the Midwife). That can be purchased here. 42185898_652046728529508_3880848254421696512_n

Our study also made them curious about the countries of Greenland, Iceland, and Norway, and so maps were studied, and documentaries on YouTube watched. A couple of good videos I found can be found here and here.

I purchased all of their Viking helmets from Amazon. I decided on the plush kind, since the hard plastic hats often don’t stay on, and get cracked so easily. My favorite is the brown plush hat. The link to that can be found here. We also made a miniature longboat to sail at the park.

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Emerging ourselves into the world of the Vikings sparked all kids of creative play in my boys. It caused many a village to be plundered in our back garden, and many a sea to be sailed and new land explored in the Viking longship we built in the playroom! They set up Viking villages, and wanted to read our Viking books again and again. I’d recommend this kind of focused, immersive kind of play-learning for any topic (especially history or literature, or science related) that you want your children to not only enjoy learning but also remember!

This autumn our focused study will be about the first explorers of North America (after the Vikings, because of course we know they were really the first!). So for more ideas, and to follow along with our life of 1 Scottish Daddy + 1 Writing Mummy + 1 Rambling Victorian House + 4 Rambunctious Boys, follow my blog or find me on Facebook or Instagram @happylittlesigh.

Avonlea xo

Happy Little Sigh 

Finding beauty in the everyday

We sat across from each other at the table for two. Busy Friday night hum. Instruments and speakers toted past as a band set up for a live show. Between us, two gluten-free Greek pizzas, lavender drinks, and so much to say.

We met on Valentine’s Day, age eight. Instant friendship. From then on, we were sisters–she, and I, and her twin sister, and her cousin. Four kindred spirits. Through the rest of childhood and the teenage years, we shared it all. Our secrets. Our dreams for the future. Our clothes. We blushed over boys. Cried hard tears on each other’s shoulders over heart-breaks and family drama. Made plans for many more adventures together.

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Then early adulthood, and choices were made. And we went our separate ways. I moved to Scotland. With an ocean between us for years, it wasn’t hard to grow apart. That, and we each had our demons to fight. But then I returned, back to the USA. We saw each other once, twice, then several times. And with each meeting came more trusting, more sharing of the parts of our stories we’d missed.

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And as we sat in that noisy restaurant last Friday night, we spoke again of the particulars of our lives. Of our mistakes, our regrets, and how we’d grown. She said something nice about my house. I smiled dreamily as she spoke of her daughter–something I’ve never had. And it occurred to us both–occurred to us that we can never see our own life as it looks from the outside. Did you hear that? Other people will naturally and unknowingly take what they see on social media, what they know of your possessions and your family, and the personality you portray in public, and for better or worse, will construct a movie-trailer-like idea of your life. And this, they will think, it what it must be like to be you. And we, in turn, do the same for them.

We look at other women, and so often we see only what she has that I don’t. That child. That house. That career. That husband. That body. That confidence. And we think because she has some of those things that we don’t, she must be happy. She must feel complete. It’s easy to miss the in-between bits. The hurts and the struggles. The tedious times. The longings each of us have. The depth of each human soul.

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It’s easy to forget all that. Easy to forget that others are praying for what we already have. That we, ourselves, once prayed for the many blessings we now enjoy. So today, instead of comparing your life to the false picture you’ve concocted of someone else’s life, let your mind dwell on the many blessings in your own life. For comparison is nothing but a thief of joy.

Avonlea xo

For more inspiration, bookishness, and mad stories of life homeschooling 4 wee men,

Find me on Instagram @happylittlesigh or Facebook @happylittlesigh

MONTHLY Newsletter, Morning Cuppa Tea at happylittlesigh@gmail.com

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Finding beauty in the everyday 

 

I grew up with William and Harry in a way–sitting on our brown living room carpet at age 5, popping out clothes for my Princess Diana paper doll. Or flipping through the glossy pages of my mother’s Princess Diana fashion books–page after page of her glorious clothes. Page after page of her holding her little princes with her radiant smile. And I watched those princes grieve their mother. Watched them go off to school, then college. Watched dreamy-eyed the romance between William and Kate.

Fast forward a few years, and it’s 6.15 A.M. on a Saturday. And I’m dashing through pelting rain, hopping into my car, driving across town to my mother’s house because it’s Harry’s turn now. He’s getting married.

Yes, they are two people on the other side of the world whom I have never really met. But since I have watched them, I care for them. And as I have friends who personally knew the Queen Mother (the present Queen’s mother), and spoke so well of her and her faith, I now care for her family. I also have great respect for the Queen, so I do. I became a British citizen a few years ago, so I suppose she is my Queen–and maybe that means William and Kate and Harry and Meghan are my Princes and Duchesses too 🙂

Royal Wedding

So, my lovelies, here are my favorite misty-eyed, ear-to-ear grin, happy little sigh moments from the wedding (plus pics of our Watch Party Breakfast Tea!).

  1. What They Said (mostly) Without Talking – The secret smiles, the whispered words, the subtle interactions. William and Harry grinning at each other. Kate leaning to whisper to William. Little George and Charlotte with their mum and dad. The bride and groom’s adoring stares. They may be titled, wealthy, and famous, but they are real people–mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, brother, sister, husband, wife. And their genuine smiles and obvious affection for each other warmed my heart. When Prince Charles passed Meghan over the Harry, Harry whispered, “Thank you, Father,” then turned to his bride and said, “Are you okay? You look amazing.” What did William and Kate and the others whisper to each other? We can only guess, but their faces tell much.
  2. The Bower –  Roses, peonies, forget-me-nots, all tumbling down wild-like, and glorious, and jubilant around the church doors. How long these arrangements took (while keeping the flowers fresh), I can only imagine. They were beautiful! 33057851_10160286659270527_1335233580602753024_n
  3. The Dress! – Our questions have now been answered! Meghans’s dress was satiny, her hair was up, and her nails were pale pink, just as I guessed. And the veil–sigh… delicate, yet breathtaking. The only thing I didn’t glimpse was her shoes! Prince+Harry+Marries+Ms+Meghan+Markle+Windsor+pyLSu8O5Nvzl
  4. The Message – Wasn’t it great, friends, to hear the name of Jesus? To hear said in so many words that Christianity is not obsolete? And didn’t Bishop Michael Curry’s exuberance make us all smile? Especially when he said, “and with this, I will sit you down. We’ve got to get you all married,” (and then proceeded to keep talking). I think I need to watch again. 😀 33032557_10160286682715527_2424621536670384128_n
  5. God Save the Queen – And this was where I cried. With news circulating that the Queen will be stepping down this year, we won’t have many more times to sing this song. As Queen Elizabeth II has been reigning since 1952, she’s the only Queen many of us have ever known, and I sometimes forget she won’t be here forever. It’s a fact I’m sure her family feel even more keenly, and it was seeing their faces (as they sang of their mother and grandmother) that made me cry. I love the Queen. 33066087_10160286682790527_3662319480882593792_n

And here’s how we watched–

Guests – My mother (the hostess), my mother-in-law (visiting from Scotland–she brought the fab Harry & Meghan biscuit tins), our friend Pat!

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The Breakfast – Quiche, sausages, fruit salad, scones with cream and elderberry jam, tea, coffee, and the highlight–lemon muffins with elderflower syrup in honor of the royal wedding cake (where does one get elderflower? my mom is amazing).

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The decór – Bunting, fresh flowers, floral globes.

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What we wore – Check out the hats and fascinators that we made!!!

The wedding brought us all together. It was a reason to dust off the good china. It was a reason to make new hats! And no matter what, it was worth because of that. Praying every spiritual and good blessing on Harry, Meghan, and the entire royal family.

Avonlea xo

For more royal fun, bookishness, and mad stories of life homeschooling 4 wee men,

Find me on Instagram @happylittlesigh or Facebook @happylittlesigh

MONTHLY Newsletter, Morning Cuppa Tea at happylittlesigh@gmail.com

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Finding beauty in the everyday 

 

 

 

 

A ginger-headed Brit and a dark-haired American–sound familiar? Yes, Harry and Meghan, but not so long ago this dark-haired American married her own Brit.  Apparently fair-headed British guys can’t quite resist us brunettes, American or not (we won’t mention the fact that Meghan and Kate are probably a good six inches taller than I 🙂 ).

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But in case you’re somehow clueless about what I’m going on about, Prince Harry, grandson of the current British Monarch, and American actress Meghan Markle’s wedding is coming up this Saturday, May 19. Another wedding as grand as this one won’t be seen until wee Prince George gets married. So whether you consider yourself an Anglophile or a fan of the Royal Family or not, no one does pomp and circumstance quite like the British, and I’m sure the wedding will be full of fairytale magic aplenty–though all in tasteful British style (unless Meghan decides to add a bit of American sparkle to the affair!).

So just for (so much) fun, my friends, plus a few tips on throwing together your own wedding breakfast tea party to celebrate, here are a few facts and speculations about Harry and Meghan’s upcoming big day . . .

1The Location – Harry and Meghan will be married at neither Westminster Abbey, where Prince William and Catherine Middleton said their vows, nor St. Paul’s Cathedral, where Princess Diana and Prince Charles wed. Nope, Harry and Meghan’s “cozy” wedding will be at St. George’s Chapel, and the reception (for around 600 guests) at St. George’s Hall, both at Windsor Castle, a royal residence in the south of England. No Buckingham Palace means no iconic balcony kisses, such as we saw with William and Kate and many royals before (awww). And while royal weddings are traditionally held on a weekday, they are also breaking tradition by getting married on a Saturday. Following the reception, around 200 have been invited to a private reception given by Prince Charles at Frogmore House on the castle grounds (where Harry and Meghan took their engagement photos). 

 Your own living room, dining room, or sun porch will be just perfect for your wedding tea party (somewhere you can see the T.V.!). Don’t forget to add some British style bunting for a real British tea party effect.

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A snap I took of Windsor Castle and gardens when we visited before emigrating to the States

2. The Decór  –  London-based florist Philippa Craddock was chosen by Meghan and Harry to design their flower arrangements. And the bouquet? White garden roses, peonies, and foxgloves (two of the flowers I chose for my own wedding day!). The flowers will be locally sourced, in season, and reflect the wild and natural landscape of the surrounding English countryside. But one thing Meghan will have that I did not is sprigs of myrtle–from the very same plant used by Queen Victoria for her own wedding. Quite the family tradition! And of course there are speculations as to whether Meghan’s bouquet will pay tribute to Princess Diana’s.

 For your own wedding tea, why not gather wildflowers that reflect the beauty of your OWN local countryside?

@happylittlesighxt (5)Princess Diana, Harry’s mother, at her 1981 June wedding

3. The Reception  –  Though we won’t get a balcony scene to ogle over, Harry and Meghan will have a carriage procession through Windsor immediately following the ceremony. Afterwards, rather than the sit-down lunch for 650 guests that William and Kate held for their guests at Buckingham Palace, Meghan and Harry have chosen “bowl foods” for their wedding reception, with “mini main courses” (not sure about you, but if I were somehow lucky enough to be invited, I’d be terrified of dripping something down the front of my dress!). But a standing reception will allow Harry and Meghan more of a chance to mingle with their guests compared to a traditional sit-down event. I was a little surprised at this choice for a royal wedding, though it reflects Harry and Meghan’s less-fuss approach. And it seems that as sixth in line to the throne, Harry and his bride had more flexibility.

And on the menu? According to royal chef Mark Flanagan, Meghan and Harry have “been involved in every detail.” And apparently the local vegetables are all doing their part and coming into season just in time to land on the royal wedding table–er, in the royal wedding bowls. While the exact dishes to be served remain a secret, Mr. Flanagan did say that tried, true, classic foods will be most likely. One thing we do, know, however is that Meghan and Harry’s wedding cake, which will also be served to guests, is lemon and elderflower with a buttercream frosting and fresh flowers to decorate. Sounds delish, and much nicer than the traditional British wedding fruitcake!

The wedding will be early in the morning for us here in the States, so why not serve lemon pound cake or lemon poppyseed muffins (as tribute to the lemon wedding cake), along with fruit salad, sausages, quiche, and other breakfast foods for your guests to enjoy? You could also try to locate some sparkling elderflower juice for something new!

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Prince William and Catherine Middleton’s 2011 wedding cake

4. The Dress  –  The style and designer of Meghan’s wedding dress is undoubtedly the biggest secret of the day–and the most fun thing to speculate about! In a Glamour interview about her Suits television character’s wedding dress, Meghan said, “my personal style—wedding or not—is very pared down and relaxed. Classic and simple is the name of the game, perhaps with a modern twist. I personally prefer wedding dresses that are whimsical or subtly romantic.” I’m willing to bet her dress will have less lace and beadwork than sister-in-law Kate’s–but will she be modern and relaxed enough to go for silky fabrics and a skinnier silhouette? There is also debate about whether or not Meghan will be wearing a tiara. I hope she does–a fairytale wedding wouldn’t be complete without one! And what about her hair–up or down? So much for us to wonder about, so much for us to look forward to seeing on the big day. 

A few things we do know–one tradition the couple will be keeping is that Prince Harry won’t see his bride in her wedding dress before she walks down the aisle. Also, Meghan will probably have two dresses–one for the ceremony and one for the reception. And last, but apparently not least, Meghan–along with Kate and the Queen–will most likely be wearing pale pink or clear nail polish. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a photo of Kate Middleton with red fingernails (although she sometimes wears it on her toes 🙂 ). And reportedly, the Queen has been wearing the same pale shade of polish, Essie’s Ballet Slippers, since 1989. A small thing for a girl to give up in exchange for being a royal. 

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William and Kate’s balcony kiss

You may decide to watch the royal wedding with your favorite mug . . . and in your favorite PJs. But if you are throwing a wedding breakfast tea, don’t forget to dust off your hat (or pick up one from a thrift store). You can always add lace, netting, or flowers. Or buy a headband and make it into a fascinator, taking inspiration from Prince William’s cousins, Beatrice and Eugenie. Don’t forget to paint your nails a delicate shade of pink!

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Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie at William and Kate’s 2011 wedding

Whatever ends up inside those bowls of food, whatever the shape of the dress, whatever the color of those soon-to-be-royal nails, the day is sure to evoke a few wistful sighs from us all. I’d so, so love to hear your thoughts and best guesses for the day! Also, I’ll be joining a few friends to celebrate, and would love to have you along! Comment below, or find me on Instagram or Facebook @happylittlesigh. 

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Me with my ginger-headed Brit on our own May wedding day

Avonlea xo

 

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Finding beauty in the everyday 

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