Life happens fast. Too fast when you're a mother.

One minute your firstborn is bouncing up and down in her crib and the next she's planning a trip down the aisle.

In November 2007, my daughter wed her high school sweetheart in a civil ceremony before the groom left to serve with the U.S. Army in Iraq. An honest-to-goodness church wedding with family and friends would be planned for a later date.

I struggled with my daughter's decision for quite some time. Remember the "Cosby" show episode when daughter Denise leaves home to study abroad and returns home one day with a husband and stepdaughter?

"As your parents, this is not how we saw your life unfolding," said a wise Claire Huxtable.

Bingo.

But once I got over the initial shock (it took a looooonnnnnggggg time), I realized we had a wedding to plan. The caterer. The photographer. The cake. THE DRESS. It's enough to make a MOB's head swim.

I'm a planner. OK, some might even say I'm a bit of a micromanager. That's true. My CD collection is alphabetized. Dirty dishes go in the dishwasher, not in the sink. Life needs order. You get the idea.

Amanda, my daughter, has a much more relaxed approach. Type A personalities might call it lackadaisical. Not that I call it that, of course. I just call it Amanda-style planning. And I'll bet she sleeps better at night than us Type A's.

Anyway, I knew our planning styles could make this a challenging endeavor, but this is my only daughter and I intend to help her make May 23, 2008 a day she and her groom, Mike, will always remember.

Our first task was the one at the top of any bride's wedding to-do list: Find The Dress.