I've now been married for 10 weeks and One Day.
Life is good, we are still laughing lots and everything is very much how I'd have hoped it to be so early on.
There is still the obligatory 'peeing on toilet seat' (him, not me) but generally the transition into married life and eternal tolerance appears intitially smooth.
On reflection, of the preceeding 3 years, proposal and wonderful Wedding Day, I guess I feel quite divided by the idea of being a married lady. Without a whiff of negativity, I am glad that I met and married a (mostly :-)) wonderful man, ruggishly handsome, kind and with a nice bottom. However, he will tell you that I'm probably just glad to have been taken off the proverbial 'shelf' and without suggesting that being single would not have been a perfectly viable life choice, I hate to admit that he may be right. Cue groans from all those strong women who hate smug-married, co-dependent door mats. Just wipe your feet on the way out Ladies.
To speak anecdotally of my new life I'd like to begin with quite a strange tale. The other day, Mr Tuckley felt it funny to lie in bed and pretend he was dead. I did not however share his humour on this particular morning. I think in his infinite wisdon he was just trying to get the reaction of a devoted wife to a particularly adverse and challenging situation. He got it! Hot sweats and shouting which culminated in me sat on the (pee free) toilet seat with my heart in my mouth. What an arse! The fine tuning of a marriage may well be a long process, one that only a true devotee to a new husband could possibly contemplate.
For better or worse I will continue to understand and shape this man into someone I will one day fondly remember to other ladies in the Co Op. Yes I will out-live him (obviously if divorce and/or beheading is avoided). It may be a little early in the relationship to begin talking in such a morbid way but when at the age of 40 he becomes surprise successor to Sir Alex Ferguson's throne, I will in later life have something to live for.
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