I’m not quite sure what’s going on this week, but I like to think my brain’s shouting ‘nest Greg, NEST. You have a baby arriving!’ while my testosterone battles on valiantly, flexing it’s biceps bellowing ‘NO. Man want to build FIRE’ or at least something along those lines. Whatever the hell’s happening I ended up spending nearly an hour in B&Q a few days ago, playing with power tools (which Suz loved) and then another two sanding and re-painting an old chest of drawers (which is now pride of place in our bedroom, housing lots of lovely pants and socks). It’s all been very productive and successful. Which, when it comes to D.I.Y, just isn’t very me.
Last year, on what was possibly the hottest day in the history of sun, I decided to build a couple of shelves from scratch. After an hour of sweating and not doing much else, I brought that down to just one, solitary shelf and then down even lower to one, solitary shelf which looked awful and sat like a depressed, wonky see-saw in our bedroom. A blind jellyfish could have done better and it was soul destroying. My dad’s a trained carpenter and can turn his hand to anything so being completely useless at making what’s essentially a piece of wood, I was quite disappointed.
Now a little human’s on the screaming horizon though, bam! I’m suddenly a flame-haired Handy Andy! Only I’ve never been on Big Brother and don’t have a Scouse accent. Along with the chest of drawers, I’ve built a bird box from scratch (I’m aware that sounds terribly uncool but we have a lot of birds in our garden and what with having wings I’ve heard it can be a struggle for them to fashion anything themselves) and have come up with designs for a workshop I want building at the bottom of the garden.
Also this week, I heard my baby’s heartbeat for the first time which was incredible. Thanks to being away training in America and missing the first scan I’d only been going on second hand information, so hearing lots of whooshing and ba-booms for myself was really, really amazing. And I definitely didn’t well-up despite what Suz says so if she tells you otherwise just ignore her because she likes to lie a lot. Next week we get to find out if we’re expecting a mini-willy or mini-minnie so it’s safe to say I’ll probably combust with excitement.
Seeing as Suz isn’t from around these here parts in Milton Keynes, her parents are moving up to stay in our annexe when we have the baby. It’ll be lovely, except it does mean we now can’t use it as the dumping ground for my endless amounts of clothes/kit/golf clubs/PVC knee-high boots (that last one’s a joke) and I should imagine the next few months are going to be taken up with us desperately sorting through everything. We’re giving a load of stuff away to numerous charities/events, so if you see anything up for auction then you know it’s a) because I do like to think I’m quite charitable but also b) so my mother in law doesn’t have to sleep on a mound of lycra leggings. We’ve also decided to sell a few bits and pieces and put the money aside for a trust fund for our new arrival so it’s got a little nest egg for university/travelling/quest for worldwide domination. I just already have a strange, all-consuming urge to make sure the next 18 years are covered and my future son or daughter is a tiny bit prepared for life away from me once the time comes.
(I would just like to add, for the record, should they wish to spend my hard-saved cash on anything I find unsuitable then I will probably just use it to buy myself a a really awesome motorbike thank you very much).
Other fun things to happen this week; endless moments of making sure no-one’s on the horizon when Suz has her mid-exercise wee in the bushes on our runs in the woods and tryyyying to work out what theme we’d like for the nursery (seaside or safari?).