Marriage and Weddings

Isaiah and Love

Published on by Lisa

I am listening to Isaiah gulp down his milk.

He is in the other room with Nick. The strains of the television are loud, but they still cannot drown out the long sighs and squirms and squeaks of our little one. As I write this, though I cannot see him, I know he is draining his bottle, staring at the intricate patterns of the ceiling, and kicking his legs into the air.

Isaiah is 9 weeks old. Nick and I can scarcely believe it. I cannot imagine the level of disbelief I will be in when he is 9 months, 9 years or 19 years old. Those days will come, but for now, I just watch and observe my big little guy, chasing the winter blues away – which are so common for Clevelanders – with his rainbow wide smile and fat rolls on his wrists and ankles.

My father recently commented that from the photos I have taken of him, it’s obvious that Isaiah is the love of my life. And I couldn’t agree more. He’s the love of OUR lives – Nick and mine. Every little thing he does evokes a reaction from us that reminds me how I was when I was falling in love with Nick. All the tiny details of your beloved’s existence seem to burn into your memory. Nothing seems as interesting or intriguing as what is happening in their world. Life seems more exciting when you know you are going to see this person and when you see their smile…ahhhh, it’s like the world was just reborn, everything’s new and beautiful again.

Isaiah has moved the furniture in our hearts and has promptly and decidedly plopped his round little bottom into the middle of it. He takes up every inch we have of energy and attention, laughter and frustration, sleep and concern. This is the transition of parenthood, I assume. You begin to learn to live outside yourself. Love of self still continues, obviously (and necessarily), but the center of well-being shifts. It’s no longer contained in my life, it exists in this chubby 22 inch body who cannot do anything but need, cry, and wiggle. And somehow, incredibly, this person also delivers immeasurable joy.

Sweet Isaiah, these 9 weeks have been life-changing. Your father and I will never be able to adequately explain how nuts we are about you. I hope you know that you have introduced us to a new and deeper kind of love that we never knew before. Not only have you brought this love out of us for you, but it has also further deepened our love for one another.

Yank the Umbilical Cord When You Need Something

Published on by Lisa

This weekend, Nick and I travled to Cincinnati for a wedding that I was shooting. Thanks to Julie Ryan, who referred me to a friend and co-worker, I was hired to work with a terrific couple for their August 1 wedding.

Now, I’ve shot weddings before and am co-shooting another one with a friend in a couple weeks, but this was one in which I had total responsibility from beginning to end with no back-up photographer, just moi. And Nick, who was my assistant.

The day was awesome but physically exhausting. I knew it was going to be a lot. I’m 4 months pregnant and not the same BOUNCY self as I normally am when unpregnant. But, I have lots of energy to give, still, and this wedding took all of it and then some. Basically from 10am – 10pm, I was shooting, directing, posing people, adjusting, crouching, and sweating like the world was my personal sauna. As I write this, Monday morning, my shoulders are still very sore and I can barely move my arms in a full circle with a small grimace. If you’d like a good shoulder/bicep/tricep workout, I’d suggest holding a DSL camera with an attached full lens and SB600 Nikon flash up to your face and running for 12 hours. See how awesome you feel. Let me know.

Overall, everything was great and only when I was going through one stressful moment did I feel any real sense of panic when my camera wasn’t cooperating with me. Usually an even-tempered digital gadget, my camera decided to have a temper tantrum for four minutes. My blood pressure sky rocketed to the blazing sun until I felt the little life inside me churning in the amniotic fluid, yanking on the umbilical cord for dear life and screaming, “MOM! BREATHE! I NEED OXYGEN!” And so, like the loving mother I am, I took a breath.

Nick as assistant and father to be could not have been more perfect. He chauffered me around from house, to church, to Eden Park, to reception with a car blasting air conditioning, cold water for me to drink waiting, and food so I didn’t pass out. He held groomsmen jackets, carried bridesmaid bouquets when the pictures didn’t call for flowers, and joked with the bridal party to relax everyone for the poses.

Nick carried my equipment, propped the church doors when no one in the recieving line did so the line flowed faster, spoke with the priests about the mass and regulations around flash photography, and took away my tripod when I was done with it.

More than one person asked, “Who is that cute guy with you? He’s not a guest is he? I don’t recognize him. IS HE YOUR HUSBAND?! HE’S SO CUTE.”

When someone compliments the good-looks of your spouse, it’s hard not to smile inside and shrug as if to say, “well, of course…”

But I just nod and say something along the lines of, “Yes, we’re married and yes, he is handsome.”

As with many challenges, I couldn’t have done it without Nick’s unyielding support, sound advice, and unwavering belief in my artistic perspective. To create art, to see something beyond what most people see, you have to believe in your own capacity to create something amazing. To do that, you have to relax. Nick does an unparalleled job of relaxing me, helping me remember why I decided to pursue this passion of mine, and believe in me.

Gracias, mi amor.

We left the reception at 10pm and headed to wish my friend Mary Kay a Happy 30th Birthday. We could only stay a brief 30 minutes or so because we were off to Cleveland from there. Still kind of wired from the day, we rode in silence back up north and I soon drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep in the passenger seat. Dreamy scenes floated across my brain of backdrops, family portraits, tuxes, dresses, and flowers. At 3am, we arrived home and I could barely make it into the house. My body hated me. The baby, I knew, hated me.

Nick, juiced up from caffeine, opened the windows and rolled the bed down for me where I collapsed. My muscles decided to stiffen up and not work and I laid in bed wondering how I could be so fatigued and unable to return sleep.

My poor abused spouse descended from his iced coffee high and fell into a deep sleep while I realized at 5am that I was not able to sleep. My stomach growled. The baby growled.

I tiptoed to the kitchen and stared at the dismal display of food options in our regridgerador. We’d been out of town for four weekends which means no serious grocery shopping had occurred in over month.

A toasted English muffin with cheese was my 5am breakfast snack. Once in my belly, I drifted off to sleep.

Sunday was a much needed day of being in Cleveland, seeing our house in the daylight hours of a weekend, and breathing in the rare Sunday morning air from our own bedroom, our own church, our own backyard. We quietly worked on landscaping, finding escape in the pruning of our trees, uprooting overgrown weeds, and catching up with our neighbors. It felt wonderful to be home.

Instead of restaurant food, fast food, or eating at someone else’s dinner table, we made simple spaghetti for dinner and loved sinking into our own couches and watching rented movies while we sifted through mail and aired out the house.

I hate cliches. I hate cliches as much as I hate ignorance, snobby attitudes, and drivers who turn without using their turn signal, but I must use a cliche this one time and one time only:

truly

there’s no place like home.

The Wedding Rules

Published on by Lisa

Wedding bells brought Nick and I back to Russia, home of the infinite cycle of larger than life weddings. This time it was Eric Rosenbeck who was getting married.

Eric, aka Rosie, is Keith’s best friend, and not a blood relative, per se, but I’ve understood that there are a few people who are just a member of the family. Rosie is one of those folks.

On Rosie’s big day, I proudly listened to Nick as second reader and of course bawled my eyes out during Eric and Tricia’s wedding vows. (It gets me every time when the bride cries…) I was not alone. I saw Kay shedding and throwing Jay, sitting in the pew in front of her, a tissue to control the water damage.

There have been so many weddings and so many receptions that it’s sometimes hard to remember certain characteristics about each one. With the exception of my own, of course, they kind of blend together, particularly if they are in the same place. But Rosie’s wedding was different. Not just because it was held at St. Henry, but for one very sweet reason that I’ve never seen at another wedding: their first dance.

Now, most people don’t really pay any attention to the first dance. It’s so customary that most just turn around and watch for a few seconds and then go back to their dinner plates. Being the sentimental shmuck that I am, I love watching the couple interact. Most couples do the obligatory slow song and occasionally smile at the camera, but mostly they just talk to one another. It’s always a lovely moment, but it never really sticks out in my mind.

Eric and Tricia seemed to be in their own world while they were dancing. They danced as close as possible without damaging one another’s rib cages, and often sang the lyrics as they looked at each other. It wasn’t just their actions either, it was just the feeling of watching a couple very much in love dance for the first time as a married couple. It felt extremely special, rare even, to see the bride and groom make a moment like that shine. I had to dab my eyes with my napkin.

I leaned over to Nick who had a delayed start to his dinner, munching on his buttered noodles, “Did you watch that? That was incredible…” I sniffed.

Nick looked up and needed to wipe his mouth, I frowned slightly at his mess. “What? What’d I miss?”

“That was, by far, the most amazing first dance and I don’t think many people were paying attention.”

As if to prove my point, Nick reached for his chicken drumstick and raised his eyebrows, “Oh no…I wasn’t watching. What made it so great?”

I shook my head at his lack of attentiveness, “I’ve just never really seen a couple look like that. I can’t describe it, but it was really incredible.”

I don’t even think Nick was listening to me anymore as someone launched into another story at our table.

And so the great party went on.

It’s easy to remember things when you’re a sober pregnant wedding guest. And I happened to share a few of those musings with Sue Borchers, one of Nick’s many terrific cousins, who sat next to me when she was taking a break from dancing. We watched everyone gyrate and shake their bodies to the music. All of a sudden, “Love Shack,” lyrics smoothed over the dance floor and, as if on cue, two or three shrieks of delight sounded from some loopy guests. I shook my head at Sue, “You know, Love Shack is not that great of a song, but everyone at weddings LOVES it. And do you want to know why? People love acting this song out.”

Sue laughed and looked out on the dance floor, “I think you might be right,” as she observed the same crowd of folks starting to act out the “BANG! BANG!…ON THE DOOR, BABY! BANG! BANG!” And watched folks pretend to bang on invisible doors while they mouthed the lyrics.

Sue and I turned philosophical with “Love Shack” in the background, “You know,” I said, “I want to write something someday about wedding etiquette.”

Sue nodded, “That would be hilarious. Number one would be, ‘Don’t act out songs. Dance. But don’t act them out.”

We laughed and a new song exploded, luring Sue once again to shake her stuff on the dance floor.

As I rested with my 10 million cups of water, I wondered what I would call the piece I would write…”My Big Fat Country Wedding,” or “Russia Rules,” or maybe, “How to Survive a 500 Person Wedding.”

The possibilities were endless.

As I shared my thoughts with Nick later that night, I was pretty sure he was snoring when I told him my idea. He raised his head one inch above the pillow and reiterated what he always says when I have an idea, “That’s great, babe.” And then fell fast asleep. I could have told him I was planning on robbing the closest bank and I think he would have had the same response. I should probably share my ideas at a more reasonable hour. I squinted at the clock. 2:32am. Yikes, no wonder he thought my idea was great. Everything’s great at 2:30 in the morning.

Since I couldn’t fall asleep right away, I thought of all the weddings I’ve ever attended. I thought that if someday I was to write about wedding etiquette beyond the snooty and boring rules about RSVPing on time, giving an appropriate gift…blah, blah…everyone knows that. I was thinking more along the practical lines of etiquette. I was thinking about the rules we so often forget once wedding day arrives.

2009 Wedding Rules: Taken From Real Life Weddings and Reception Debacles

1. TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES DURING THE WEDDING MASS/CEREMONY. There is nothing more distracting than hearing Usher’s, “Yeah” during the Ave Maria.

2. (This is one of my personal convictions:) During ANY speech, whether it’s the father or mother of the bride or groom, the best man or maid of honor speeches — SHUT UP. Stop talking. It’s unbelievably rude. And if you’re sitting by me, you WILL be SHHHHHSHSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHed several times until you’re quiet. You will also see Nick burying his head in his arms when I turn around and glare at the talkers.

3. If the bride wears her veil to the reception, guests should be cognizant of the pull an embrace places on her veil. Sometimes I watch the bride’s head snap back so fast and hard, I wonder if it’ll pop off.

4. Remember that although the lights are dimmed, it’s not a total blackout. Seated guests can see where your hands are going when you’re dancing with your date. Keep it G-rated. PG-13 at worst.

5. The inevitable dancing circle that forms in big crowds seems to invite a bar-friendly guest to think it’s a hilarious idea to push people from behind into the middle. AND IT’S ALWAYS THE MOST AWKWARD PERSON ALIVE to raise their hands up and shake their heads that they don’t dance. Tip: If you don’t want to get suckered into dancing, clear the floor. The dance circle will always weed out the most timid person and claim its next victim.

6. Never, ever, EVER is it hilarious to make a spectacle of a wardrobe malfunction while you’re dancing. A button pop off? Too much cleavage from a rip? A shirt lost two buttons to reveal your manly chest hair? Don’t incorporate into your dance moves.

7. Men: it’s never a good idea to interrupt a couple while they’re dancing to practice your grinding moves on her

8. Women: lift your arms in excitement only if you are 10000% confident your dress is not going anywhere and you have applied deodorant to your pits

9. Ties should not be used in any way as a prop to lure someone as your dance partner

10. Ties should not be used in any theatrical manner, especially to demonstrate what butt floss is and how it is done

11. During square dancing, prep your novice partner

12. During “Farmer’s Daughter,” only turn the gent upside down if you are confident you will not drop him

13. During that Wheel Barrel song or whatever it’s called, if someone is nearly strangling him or herself in efforts to untangle the group, have some mercy and let them drop their arms. Don’t yell, “COME ON! YOU CAN DO IT! TWIST! WE’VE ALMOST GOT IT!” while they turn scary shades of blue.

14. If you’re over 5’2 and have a front view of the slide show SIT DOWN, CROUCH DOWN, OR GO TO THE BACK. Have some consideration for people straining for one glimpse.

15. Facetiously offering a pregnant woman a drink and then taking a sip of it yourself to reinforce her inability to drink is really NOT that funny. Don’t do it.

16. Broken glass on dance floor = ladies, keep your shoes on

17. If you use one of those basket items left for the ladies in the bathrooms to help freshen up – razor, toothbrush, floss, deodorant (recommended if you’re sweating on the dance floor) – put it back in the basket or throw it out. It is absolutely grotesque to see wrappers and used items strewn around the lavatory.

18. “Hang on Snoopy” is not the time to get in the face of someone you don’t particularly like with a threatening O-H-I-O.

19. Asking the bride and groom if it’s ok to take one of the centerpieces home as a gift for someone else – unless they are being given away – is not really appropriate.

20. When the managers of the reception facility have turned out the lights and are yelling at you to leave, oblige their request.

But, what makes weddings so gosh darn fun and hilarious are the ridiculous moments of forgotten propriety and whims of the heart (or debauchery). And my number one life rule trumps any wedding rule I can come up with: All rules are made to be broken.

Wedding Season 2009

Published on by Lisa

It has been back to back weekends that we’ve hit the ROOSH, aka, Russia, Ohio…the undeniably tiny but lovable town of Raider pride.

The weekend of May 9th, we headed out there for Lindsey Grogean’s wedding. As a wedding photographer and technology geek, I always pay close attention to innocuous details that I am certain no one in the free world would care about — like what camera the photographer is using, or how well-edited the slideshow was done. While every wedding is different, this one stuck out to me in particular for a few reasons. One of them was how genuinely happy the bride and groom looked at the altar. I know that many folks are uncomfortable with a zillion people staring at you, but IT’S YOUR WEDDING DAY! Not the time to be pulling a shy act.

And this couple just looked so peaceful and joyful, I was already tearing up when they took their seats at the beginning of mass. Hands down, this was the most smiley groom I’ve ever seen in my life, possibly even surpassing Nick when he told me, “I Do” four years ago. (That’s A LOT of smiling.)

The second thing was their slideshow. It was terrific because at the end of it, there was a lovely montage edited snippets of family and friends talking to the camera and sending their well-wishes, something I tried to pull off for Kelly Borchers now Kelly Norris, but when I proposed the idea to Nick and his brothers, all of them agreed with three words, “TOO MUCH WORK.” Not for me, but to get everyone to submit something on camera, on time, and with creativity. Too bad for Kelly, it would’ve been awesome.

Anyway, these two lovebirds have some real characters in their life because each person was so unique with their well-wishes, it was hard not to be captivated by their humor. One person was doing a sock puppet show, another was by the railroad tracks, another had a gigantic stuffed animal he kept kissing…it was hilarious and heart-warming to see how beloved two people can be.

I love weddings.

And this particular wedding kicked off the wedding season for Nick and I. And what a terrific start it was…

Putting the "Big" in Big Fun: Part II

Published on by Lisa

After we completed as many tasks as we could, Keith arrived.

Perfect timing. He was all smiles.

By Thursday evening, everyone was tired, but every 59 minutes someone would say, “Thank God the hall is done.” That would followed by a chorus of, “yeahhh….TOTALLY…”

We watched a little sneak peak of the slideshow because Kay “does not want any surprises,” and I agreed. It’s better to get the crying out now, I thought.

Of course there were tears and it was the first time I managed to stay dry eyed throughout it. I love watching people’s reactions when they see funny or moving pictures set to music. It’s almost like you can see their memories popping up in their heads.

FRIDAY
We woke up early and immediately went separate ways. Ron went on errands. Kelly went to go get her manicure and pedicure. The boys went golfing. Kay and I went to go get the dress. Ben Norris’ wife and daughter, Bhumika (pronounced: Boom-ick- cah) (nickname is Bhum- prounounced “Boom”) and Lilly were at the house while everyone disappeared to get the last minute things finished. When we picked up the dress and dropped it off at Kay’s parents house, we hung it up and fluffed it out. It looked majestic. I didn’t know if Paul would leak out a tear or two, but all seemed dry when we were on our way out.

“We better get going,” Kay said to her parents after we were done hanging the dress.

“Yup,” Rose would agree.

I started inching near the door thinking that was our cue to leave.

“Bhum and Lilly are at the house waiting there. We might go back there and take them to the hall.”

“Oh, okay!” Rose said.

Paul was confused, “Who’s BLOOMING LILY?”

I nearly fell over laughing so hard.

“No,” Kay said, “Bhum – short for Bhumika – and her daughter Lilly. Not ‘Blooming Lily!'”

We made it back to the house and began to get ready for the rehearsal and dinner.

The closed and ripped up roads provided a bit of struggle, but eventually everyone arrived at the rehearsal. It was a great time, including when Tim had to pull out his cell phone to practice his vows. Apparently, Kelly texted what he was supposed to say and it was held in the cell. Always a good resource, that cell phone.

Fireside, an old winery, was the perfect backdrop for the rehearsal dinner. Rog Borchers and Don Cordonnier were the trusty bartenders that night and were quite generous with the Crown, I must add. It was a great evening, but the highlight was the “siblings’ speeches” that took place after dinner.

Nick, Keith, and Jay were all giving individual speeches and toasts for Kelly, a moving gesture I thought. Once I heard the plan I thought, “Oh, this’ll be a ride on Disaster Transport. They’re going to be bawling their eyes out.”

Before rehearsal, Keith asked me to hear him out and I did. Twice. In the garage and then Kelly’s empty room. It was good. Poor guy, I thought, he’s going to bawl like a baby.

Then at the church, Jay asked me to read over his speech, handwritten in green notebook. Poor guy, I thought, he’s going to cry himself to sleep tonight.

Nick jailed himself in the basement refusing any help or rehearsal with his speech.

So, the three musketeers marched up to the front of Fireside and stood shoulder to shoulder to deliver their toasts to their one and only sister, Kelly. I had Ron’s video camera and thought it’s be fun to get it all on tape.

First up: Keith. Funny, moving, delivered well. Choked up midway. Glanced at Kelly – bawling her eyes out.
Second: Jay. Bawling throughout. Miracle all the words came out. Glance at the audience. 65% crying. Kelly – still crying.
Third: Nick. Walks from side to side, dry eyed. Calm and sincere. I hear a whisper, “He talks like a pastor!” Glance at Kelly – tears are under normal control. Glance at self, train wreck. I’m bawling like a big fat baby and can’t stop. Why do I have the camera? Whatta horrible idea.

We get through rehearsal and decide to end it around 11pm-ish.

I spot Tim and Kelly alone outside and hear her say good-bye to him. In reply, Tim says, “Next time I see you, you’ll be walking down the aisle in your wedding dress.” Another hug.

I look at Nick and start crying again. That’s what you get for eavesdropping.

Big Fun Pictures

Published on by Lisa

Remember, I wasn’t the photographer for the wedding and made a conscious decision to put my camera away so I could truly be in the moment. That being said, this was probably a dream to photograph because everything was really beautiful and the lighting was perfect for the entire day. So, here’s just a few of the pictures I have…if you want more, you’ll have to wait for Natalie Baumgardner to finish up.

CLICK HERE FOR BIG FUN PICTURES.

Putting the "Big" in Big Fun: Part I

Published on by Lisa

I am the sole creator of the nickname BIG FUN, aka the Kelly Borchers/Tim Norris wedding that just took place this weekend. September 20, 2008 will go down as BIG FUN: The Night to Remember.

Nick and I left Cleveland Wednesday night after work and didn’t arrive until after midnight. Although tired from the long drive, we still couldn’t help but make comments. “Why is the road closed?”

“Looks like they’re doing road construction.”

Mhm, that doesn’t sound like a good start for a wedding weekend with lots of out of towners.

As the car bumped along and we passed my favorite street – marveling, once again, at Borchers Road – we turned to find most of the Russian roads ripped up along one side and enormous bulldozers and machinery scattered rather obviously around town.

First thought: Ouch. That doesn’t make a pretty wedding picture. I bet Ron and Kay are pissed. Don’t the construction people know it’s Big Fun weekend?

Wednesday Night
Hugs all around as we enter the house and Russia’s long lost one-time seminarian son has returned. It’s always nice to see Nick light up when we enter Raider-ville. No matter how tired he is in the car, once he walks through the garage that connects to the kitchen, he’s completely reenergized to be near his family.

So, the first night, Kelly, the lovely bride to be, Nick, Ron, Kay and I just talk about the impending nuptuals and all the craziness that goes on the few days prior to the wedding. The next day we would be decorating St. Remy Hall, home of Big Fun dinner and dancing (commonly known as a reception). We hit the hay and I wondered what exactly the Borchers house would look like under such a big event. The questions were endless:

Would Kelly survive all the questions? (It’s a researched fact that brides answer approximately 1,000,000 -yes one million – questions in the timeframe of the engagement.)

Is there enough Crown Royal?

Will the bulldozers get out of the way?

Should I refrigerate the Red Bull now or Friday night?

Will it really be 80 degrees on Saturday?

Thursday
The next morning, I went for a long run around town. My new goal is to run a road race before I turn 30 (ahem, 2.27.09) and the lovely slightly manure-ed air of the countryside provided a nice backdrop to my jog. When I returned, I found Kay and Kelly – already having conquered the florist appointment – ready to head up to the hall. I quickly changed and followed suit, running two minutes behind.

I walked two feet into the hall, hoping I wasn’t too late and found about 20 excited family members and friends generously volunteering to help decorate the tables. Nick spotted me and whispered into my ear, “Totally predictable, Kelly and Aunt Jan are already crying. Watch out…”

A quick laugh was needed as we all went to work with ribbon, linens, dishware, caramel popcorn (par-tay favors!) and votive candles. The highlight was definitely flicking up the wick of over a couple hundred votive candles with a tack. Ahhh, the manual labor of wedding prep. As we folded the napkins, i laughed and caught up with friends and family. It NEVER ceases to amaze me how generous Nick’s family and friends are with their time and resources. All these folks here to set up chairs, tables, cover them, plan routes, hang clothes, wipe something until it shines – for free – is truly remarkable. Nick often says, “Yep, that’s Russia.”

As the hours pass and more questions surface, I begin having memories (traumatic ones) of my own wedding planning and remember the anxiety of wondering whether the food will satisfy everyone, if the plates look right, if the flowers are the right color. Weddings are unbelievably stressful, but in Borchers-style, they handled it unbelievably smoothly. Ron has lists, Kay has tears, Kelly is direct, Nick is sweating, Jay is still at work, Keith is leaving voicemail messages that he’s on his way, and I am smiling with candle wax debris on my face.

The hall is done by 3pm-ish. Not bad.


3 Down, 97 More to Go

Published on by Lisa

Today is our 3rd year anniversary!

We woke up and did what we always do the morning of our anniversary — watch our wedding slideshow and footage of the big day.

Of course we cried like big fat babies, as we do every year, but it’s wonderful to relieve the greatest day of our lives.

Speaking of big days, we’re heading home to Ohio tomorrow evening for another great wedding — Catie Bella and Matt Anderson. We’re pumped for them and to see everyone, too. It’s been a good six months since we’ve been to Cincinnati and it’ll be great to throw a few back.

On Monday, we’ll do our final walk-through of our house before we close next Friday! We fly back to Boston Tuesday morning, Keith flies in Friday, and then we’re all driving back to Ohio on Sunday, June 15th. This time, for good.

It’s been a twisty and unpredictable 3 years and we can’t wait to see what the next 97 have in store for us.