Eating my words.

There were quite a few things I said I'd never do when I had kids, but there's one thing I have always been adamant and very outspoken about: taking a baby to a wedding.

That's a BIG no-no in my book.

There is nothing worse than someone's kid screaming during wedding vows, or crying while the bride and groom have their first dance. Weddings are not kid-friendly events (well, except for one I went to a few years ago where the DJ was also a clown who made balloon animals). By the time you make it to the reception it's bedtime, so the kids are tired and cranky and overstimulated. And it's no fun for the parents, who can't drink and dance and do what everyone else is doing, because they're too busy trying to console their tired, cranky, overstimulated children.

I know some people want kids at their wedding, because they consider it a big family affair. And I can appreciate that, but I was not one of those brides. We did not invite any children to our wedding (though a few attended anyway, much to my chagrin). My sister took it a step further and added "adults only, please" to her invitations.

I really never understood why parents wouldn't just get a babysitter and enjoy a kid-free night out. It's not like you don't have enough time to find one, invitations typically go out months in advance. And then you don't have to worry about your baby spitting up on your dress, or your kid running around the reception like a maniac. You can get dressed up and go out with your spouse for a civilized, worry-free night of fun.

But then we had a baby and found ourselves invited to three weddings within two months of his birth. Two of which were weddings Nate's entire family attended, automatically eliminating our babysitting options.

So, we've taken Calvin to two weddings (he was invited to all three). The first was an outdoor wedding, and he slept the entire time. He was only two weeks old at that point, so we skipped the reception. The second was for friends of ours and Nate's parents kindly took him for the night. The third was last weekend and we took him to the ceremony and reception.

It went fine. I wasn't excited about toting a diaper bag around instead of a cute purse, and he nearly had a blowout during the reception so I ended up changing him on the sink in the bathroom next to one of the bridesmaids. And we didn't get to stay long enough to dance because the music was so loud we were worried about his ears. But he was quiet and well-behaved and there were a million other kids there, so it wasn't a big deal.

Would I do it again? Not unless I had to. And I certainly wouldn't once he gets older, louder and more mobile. But I humbly eat my words about how people who bring their kids to weddings are inconsiderate and inappropriate...because sometimes you don't have a babysitter and therefore you don't have a choice. (Though I stand by my statement that bringing a child to a wedding they were not invited to attend is inexcusable.)

I fear this is the first of many word-eating episodes for me.

(The cake was minty. I love mint. Nate hates it. Evidently Jon does, too.)