Z-Day. We talked about it forever. Worked at it hard. Spent countless hours here, there, doing this and that. Upgraded the soundproofing in the windows. *(Soundproofing -whaaat?)
You know what Z-day is- every man that has ever walked into the bathroom and seen his wife holding a little white thingy with a big cup of apple juice knows instinctively what Z-Day is.
Z-Day is the day you find out you're going to be a father. That the woman you're looking at is going to be a mother. And that the two of you have created something that, should all go well, come kicking and screaming and disrupting everything you know in about 9 months.
My Z-Day was yesterday morning at 5:30am.
I knew she had the test- had had it for a week. I wanted to test earlier, but she insisted on waiting (hilarious because usually it was the other way around). We had been disappointed each time that caution served as a buffer for fears. I smiled and said we'd try again... and she'd put on a brave face and look like she wanted to cry.
I have had a list of home improvements that had to get finished- I even had it spec'd out as to their order, their approximate cost (based upon early improvements and adjusted for inflation), and the order that they had to be worked in. It also included how much time each would take.
Guess what hasn't been worked upon for a few months? Guess what got started this morning at 1020 am?
Step 1: The bedroom ceiling has been sagging slightly more each year- and the nail pops were becoming visible. Since the bedroom was the first room to be done in my new house I took a few shortcuts- I only repaired the nailpops I could see instead of the entire ceiling and I did a crappy job about it- all to save a few days of effort and get my bedroom in order.
So today I spent screwing, punching, and screwing some more until the entire ceiling would have been easier to have been replaced with new drywall (just kidding). I also have to rip out the tape in one corner- the ceiling must have fallen by about 5mm- which means feathering it in at half the distance in the room.
Step 2: Re-organize all the wall positions of all the furniture. This has yet to be accomplished because, frankly, I don't want to try and navigate a huge bookshelf while I'm trying to paint. There's a futon in the spare bedroom (soon to be the nursery!) that needs to be moved to the Den, and the den needs to be completely cleaned up to the point that one can put a baby puppy in it and not have anything lead based sucked up. Since the Den is my techno-haven that means lots and lots of spare equipment has to go out to new homes.... good computers in need of good lovin ;)
I've watched young parents with their little children- smiled profusely when one little girl (Z-Day -1) kept shaking her head 'no' when someone would offer her a balloon. It was cute.
Cute. Aren't all kids cute? I don't know. But I'm going to find out.
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