'Tis the season

JANUARY must have been a very boring, yet busy month, as I’m surrounded by people having babies.
For me, this is not necessarily a good thing, as some of you may guess.
A colleague came in with her little bundle of joy today and I swear I almost ate it. Dogs three miles away were the only ones who heard my squeals.
I think for someone of my age I may be uncontrollably and unhealthily broody. All I can think about is getting married and having babies. Even stories of two-day births and stitches don’t put me off.
And before anyone says it, yes I know I need the man first, at least for the marriage part.
I was never the little girl who dreamed of exactly how her wedding would be; I didn’t even want to be the bride when my neighbour and I were dressing up.
However, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to get married to our other neighbour, who is now a very attractive young man, but because this girl had seriously affluent grandparents, hence her superb hand-me down dressing up box.
My favourite was a long-sleeved emerald green dress with gold braiding around the neck. It may as well have been real gold I loved it that much. I’d probably think it was the most hideous thing now.
I, on the other hand, had the hooped petticoat of my hired flower girl dress and a fuchsia pink nightie belonging to my dear departed grandma.
I thought for years that I would never get married, but I’m coming round to the idea that every marriage is different, and it’s what you make it.
I know someone who has a ‘wedding book’, with details of where she wants her wedding, details of the reception, what her dress will be like, and even keeps a guest list which she updates every year. She doesn’t have a man either, and heaven help the one she does get if he even mentions marriage. “I’ve got something to show you....”
I’ve been at my friends for a while now to do a ‘Muriel’s Wedding’; and just go and try on wedding dresses for the day. Unfortunately, like Muriel, sorry Mariel, there is no ‘Tim Simms’.
Details for my big day are pretty sketchy. I would want a wedding that would reflect my character rather than what was expected.
I really don’t think that my friends take me seriously that I want to fly off and get married by Elvis in Las Vegas, then come back and have a big party.
And I can just see their faces when the band leader says: “Can we ask the bride and groom to take the floor for their first dance,” and they hear the unmistakable first few bars of Walk of Life.
Most marriages end in dire straits, so why shouldn’t mine start with them. No self-respecting family function is complete without that song.
Other than that I know what my dress won’t be like, and that I wouldn’t follow a traditional path.
So, you can imagine my delight when I read that Robbie Williams is of my way of thinking.
He said recently that a big traditional wedding was not his thing and that he too would rather get married in a Las Vegas wedding chapel instead of a big Jordan and Peter Andre type affair.
He just wouldn’t be with someone who would want a traditional wedding.
He’d just say: “Babe, finish lunch. Do you reckon we should get married?”
And I would say: “Babe, you had me at babe.”
I don’t really need to have much of an excuse to have a party — granted getting married may justify it.
At college, the student union’s Hallowe’en party always doubled up for this poor student’s birthday ‘do’. When I left, I carried on the tradition, albeit on a slightly smaller scale.
So for the last few years I have always had some kind of get together, which usually doubles as a reunion for my far and away friends. They usually have a theme — I’ve been a pregnant Posh Spice, a bunny girl and Minnie Mouse amongst other things.
This year will be no different. And it’s happening all too soon. And they’re all staying with me.
I realised with panic, that despite me doing lots of other little jobs, the ones that were started in time for their last visit haven’t yet been finished.
I now have a detailed plan of what’s to do in each room. I’m getting there.
Saying all of this I’ve realised my marriage wouldn’t really be that traditional either. I wonder if Robbie would mind doing the chores if I took care of the DIY?
I had to laugh when I heard Corrie’s Jack Duckworth say last night: “First there is the engagement ring, then the wedding ring, then the suffering.”
Like me, I’m sure a lot of people spend a lot of time thinking about the actual wedding day, and not the marriage years after.
Maybe for my next party I’ll just have a wedding theme to get the whole big dress and mass attention out of my system. No groom required.