9 Months

9 months.

What's the first thing you think of?

9 months of growing a little peanut in one's belly. Admit it, you lot thought that I was about to make a pregnancy announcement! And for the record, no we did not bring back an extra souvenir from Japan :p

9 months means something different to me.

9 months was how long it took for two complete strangers to get married. To be specific, Ant and me. :)

By now, I'm used to people commenting about how fast it all happened. Especially since most people who knew me before I met Ant knew that I was deadset on enjoying being a hardcore, SINGLE, salsa dancer. I enjoyed my late nights out, coming home reeking of different colognes from different dance partners. I liked having my alone time. I liked doing whatever the hell I wanted.

But then this cheeky bugger came into my life and wormed his way into my heart. Although maybe it's more accurate to say he wormed his way into my belly seeing how he did woo me with pancakes and pie. And we all know how much I love food.

It all happened so organically. It may have been only 9 months but we didn't feel rushed or pressured... just excited about getting married.

It's funny because prior to our relationship, we were both in much longer term relationships. Relationships that we thought would make it but just fell apart. We thought we KNEW love... but we didn't until we met each other.

Yes that's sickeningly nauseating and cliched but it's true.

To give you an example, when I was with my ex, I told him that he HAD to buy me an engagement ring from Tiffany's. My perfect ring was the Tiffany's cut, I said, and I didn't want anything less. We got into an argument because I thought that the ring I wanted was modestly priced and was certainly less than the 3 months salary that most people say an engagement ring should cost. It sounds so shallow now but I was genuinely upset that my ex wouldn't even consider buying me that ring.

In comparison, when Ant asked me whether he needed a ring to propose, I said no, that I would be happy with an onion ring (!!!). He went out and bought one anyway; because it wasn't right if I didn't get one, he said.

2 years into our marriage, and that spirit of compromise and generosity still burns strong. I try my best to remind him how much I love him with my words and my actions while he does it seemingly effortlessly, even when I'm being a completely whiny bitch.

We still have our arguments but nowhere near as much or as badly because at the end of the day, we hate being in fight mode and want nothing more than to just cuddle up on the couch and watch TV.

We do get out of the house though. In fact, the last year has been such an adventure. We were lucky to go to a couple of gigs (including the Foo Fighters!) and we made his dream trip to Japan come true.

That last one was a biggie (such a biggie that I haven't even started on all my Japan posts!) because it was a real honeymoon - exploring somewhere we'd both never been to before and relying on each other every step of the way. It also helped that we didn't get food poisoning this time! Hehehe!

Japan was amazing and I was so happy to see him enjoy everything I had planned out for him in our itinerary. I was so relieved that we got him his cherry blossoms, baseball games, samurai experience... and knives! I can't wait for our next big holiday away... even if might take a couple of years because of everything else we have planned.

And on that note... happy anniversary my darling husband.  I'm so excited for what our future holds for us and there's no one else I'd rather take this crazy shinkansen ride with. You are my partner in crime, my kindred spirit, my rock, my Batman, my everything in between.

Thank you for making me laugh with your silly antics, for always keeping me safe, for humouring my bouts of paranoia, for making anything my greedy little belly desires.... well for everything, really. I love you ten million billion gajillion.