This week a bomb dropped on what had been an otherwise uneventful period of wedding planning.

From the beginning, Michael and I planned an adult reception. We did this for several reasons.

First of all, we feel our guests will enjoy themselves more if their children aren’t present and demanding supervision.

Second, inviting all the children from my large Irish Catholic family would easily add 50 to 60 people to my guest list. My reception venue cannot accommodate, nor can I afford, that number added to my 250 person list.

Michael’s sister Janet was kind enough to enlist the services of two teachers from her daughter’s daycare. The plan was Michael’s nieces and nephew would attend the church ceremony and the teachers would watch the children at Michael’s parents’ house during the reception.

This plan was agreed upon months ago.

Or, so I thought.

On Tuesday, Michael informed me his two oldest siblings would bring their children, a total of five, to our reception.

Whether we liked it or not.

Michael was incensed. Surprisingly, more so than I.

He felt disrespected because they knew our wishes and blatantly disregarded them. Not to mention we did not even get to hear it straight from them, rather we heard of their rebellion second hand.

For me, finding this information out from a third party was the most upsetting. I could see myself being more sympathetic if they had come to us and tried working with us toward a different solution.

Had it not come up in casual conversation, I am not sure Michael and I would have been notified until they arrived for the reception, children in tow.

Second most upsetting was hearing from Michael their reasons for disregarding our wishes for OUR day.

Michael’s brother explained it wasn’t the babysitters they didn’t trust, but their own children.

Wonderful!

Your children are so poorly behaved you want to share the joy of their presence with our guests on our wedding day.

Their decision to bring their children does not make me nearly as angry as listening to their petty excuses.

I refuse to do it.

I could feel my blood boil as Michael recounted his conversation with his brother. It was at this point that I knew I wasn’t going to fight it.

I don’t want my life as a part of his family to start with the cloud of some huge disagreement hanging over head. I also don’t want memories of my wedding reception marred by some major argument.

Despite having the support of Michael’s parents and Janet, I chose not to make a battle of it. I settled for venting in this column and posting it on the Internet.

I am not a push over. Michael and I maintain control over our reception. After all, I laughed off his siblings’ suggestion that I set up a kids’ table near our head table.

I will, however, set up a play room for the children and their babysitters in a separate section of our reception venue. The children can come and go from the seated dinner room as they please, however, I will do everything in my power to make sure they have every incentive to stay in their play room. Toys, TVs, DVD players and other diversions hopefully will keep them preoccupied.

I figure if this is the worst thing that happens with regard to our wedding, we really aren’t doing too bad.

It made me feel really good to play peacemaker even if it meant swallowing some of my own frustration.