Nesting

It's official.

My wife is pregnant.

Now, I know that I announced this joyous event months ago. But, last week, the official pregnancy began.

First, my wife is finally starting to show. And not in the way where she says "am I showing?" and you scratch your head and wonder if a "yes" answer will be construed as you thinking she's fat because she doesn't really think she's showing. It's the "I am showing now, aren't I?" where you know acquiescence is safe.

Second, nesting has begun.

We've been talking about projects that we'd like to tackle to get the house ready for baby for the past couple of months. Moving some furniture around, organizing some parts of the house, little things here and there.

When The Missus lobbied for the purchase of a lawnmower and some garden supplies, I mistook it for enthusiasm for the season. It turns out it was a precursor, a look at what was to come.

In the past couple of weeks, we've acquired several articles of furniture, we've started organizing our long-neglected laundry room, we've started re-configuring the rooms in the house, and it has become abundantly clear to me that The Missus is starting to develop full-on maternal urges. The nesting has begun.

It's nice, actually. The other day, for no apparent reason, The Missus made chocolate chip cookies. Last night, in a long break from the usual tradition, she opted to go grocery shopping while I was off dealing with another commitment. Tomorrow, just because, we're having friends over to eat dinner at our place.

It may not sound like much. But the changes are obvious.

Thursday we find out what gender our baby is. That night, we host a family barbecue to let the grand- and great-grandparents to be know what's coming.

And then Father's Day will be here, and I have it on good authority that I have a whopper of a gift coming.

Nesting, and preparing for what's coming, is fun. I think I'm going to enjoy this waiting-for-baby thing. At least, that is until my wife stops enjoying pregnancy, at which point I suspect that I, too, will just want it to be over...

Catch ya later.