Happy Christmas!

One of my favourite things about Christmastime is how everyone becomes so reflective. People stop and think about the year that has passed, the things they want to remember and the things they are happy to leave behind. I love this time because, as you know, introspection's my thing.

On Monday, we put the last of the thank you cards in the post. When we finished writing them on Sunday night, I said to Baddie, "That's it, we did it. The whole wedding process is over." And then, with a mix of humour and relief, "Phew! We never have to get married ever again!"

And humour and relief were exactly right, because that was how I felt: light. I wasn't sad. I wasn't disappointed. There was no anti-climax. Just in time for Christmas, we emerged from the tunnel that is the engagement and wedding, married. Finally here we are, just plain old married.

Long time readers will know that Baddie and I got engaged exactly a year ago today, on Christmas eve two thousand and seven. They will also remember how very different life was then, how tumultuous the months preceding our engagement were. Yet somehow, despite it all, we made a decision to make a real life together. We decided to throw away all the crap and build something up from the love and strength that we knew lay at our core.

I always imagined in those days what my readers would think. Were we crazy to get engaged when we did, a mere five days after I came home following an all-or-nothing ultimatum that had seen me spend three nights away from home in the company of my siblings? Was it mad to make such a serious commitment when we had only just got better?

But it didn't matter what anyone else thought. It only mattered that I trusted in him to keep his word. It only mattered that I believed that he was ready to want me - us - more than anything else, ready and willing to do what it took to make us great.

From the day he asked me to marry him to the day he surprised me with one last thank you card addressed to his wife, fifty-two weeks of process felt just right and I'm ready to close that door. Two thousand and eight will always be the year of the wedding, but it will always be more that that to me. It was the year we started regular weekly trips to the supermarket together. It was the year of more dinner parties than all the previous years combined. It was the year when a hangover went from a weekly or bi-weekly occurrence to an occasional shock rarely worth enduring. It was the year when we went to Cornwall and took our books everywhere, finally, truly easy together. It was the year when his mother finally started to warm to me and I finally learnt to accept her for who she is and even start to enjoy her for it. It was the year when we finally started acting like grown-ups, and in the process created a freedom for ourselves to be more childlike than ever.

I am absolutely ready to say goodbye to two thousand and eight, goodbye to getting wed. Because getting married is so exciting, but it's being married that's really great. We're looking to buy a house next year. We're going to be an uncle and aunt. And surely sooner or later, with our many siblings, it won't be too long until someone else is getting married and there will be a whole new lot of excitement in which to share.

So, dear readers, I want to wish you all a really lovely Christmas and a very happy new year. But more than that, what I want for each one of you is that you catch the bug for reflection that goes around at this time of year, that you stop and think about the little things that have happened lately that differentiate two thousand and eight. Because before you know it, it's gone, one year faded into the next. And you could no longer care less about crystal blush calla lilies and midnight blue ribbons. Because you want to know how big the third bedroom is, how much work the garden needs. And maybe, just maybe, a little about the local schools.