Our whirlwind romance flourished into a new, exciting engagement in just 5 months – an engagement which dragged on for a painful 14 months. And then, on the most perfect day this May, McDreamy and I tied the knot.

The wedding day passed so quickly, I don’t think I truly appreciated the day until I sat and looked through the pictures for the first time.  We floated through the day, buzzed on surreality, overwhelmed with emotions. At the end of the day, after we had climbed into our getaway car, it hit me that I would never go home alone again.  Goodnight no longer meant a long, lonely drive or hesitant moments before finally hanging up the phone.  I would start and end every day with my McDreamy.

I don’t think anything truly prepares you for what it means to be a Mrs.  You can read every book, attend counseling sessions, get advice from well-intentioned friends and family.  But every marriage is made up of two completely unique people that have never walked the earth before. It’s a new adventure – a book that is yet to be written.  I’m glad that we unplugged from society and spent two glorious weeks basking in the Mexican sun, learning what it meant to share space with each other.  Still, no matter how lovely the vacation, it doesn’t prepare you for the routine, daily grind you must navigate together.

As Mrs. McDreamy, I’m still learning which vegetables my picky husband will actually eat.  I’ve almost weaned him off potatoes, but I don’t have a prayer of makings our home a pasta-free zone.  I drive him nuts by separating the laundry by color – instead of two loads of darks and everything else.  I try to stay up late with McDreamy.  He kills himself trying to get up when I do.  We’re still trying to figure out what “normal” is for us. Still, I sneak spinach into the lasagna, he turns off the TV earlier than he used to, and we’re loving every moment of it.