- Day 71: 4am wake up & Bright Future’s bright beginning
- Day 72: Rosa Parks & Retelling Jokes
- Day 75: Faults & Adaptability
- Day 79: Good nights and bad nights
- Day 80: Good England & bad sci-fi
- Day 81: Trapped feet & freed words
- Day 82: Jobs & processes
- Day 85: Mattresses and eleven o clock stop
- Day 88: Spreadsheets & bare minimum
In preparation for Sophie’s birth, we bought a cot. Duh.
For a cot, it was pretty big, because it’s one of those you convert into a toddler bed after a couple of years.
Given we moved only a month before Sophie was born, and at one point it didn’t look as though we were going to complete in time, Fay grew nervous and wanted to buy a crib, as she was worried the cot wouldn’t fit in our bedroom.
So out we went and bought a crib which was much smaller than the cot, and when we moved, we put that besides our bed and put the cotbed in the nursery.
The crib was great for almost three months of Sophie’s life but, for the past few days, she’s been getting her foot caught between the bars, because of how small it is.
To stop this happening, we decided to put her in the big cot.
The problem was, the NHS and Lullaby Trust (which looks into cot death) recommends you have your baby in your room for an absolute minimum of six months, with a year being the optimum amount of time.
As such, we weren’t ready to put her next door, which meant we would have to move the cot into our bedroom, and put the crib in the nursery.
One word: what a pain in the arse.
I had to dismantle it in one room, bring the pieces next door and remantle it. If that were a word, which isn’t. Mantle it? Or build it. Something.
This took up a fair bit of time I would rather have been writing but was worth it. Not because she sleeps better in the cot (no way of knowing that yet) but because it needed to doing. She has so much more room in the cot, and the mattress is much more comfortable. I think it’s going to work out for the best.
When I wasn’t building or reverse building cots, eating lunch and dinner, or playing with Sophie, I was reading Chase, the first Dean Koontz suspense thriller, and writing.
Chase I finished in a day. It’s not as good as his later works, obviously, but was a solid short thriller. I’d recommend, and I’m looking forward to moving onto more of his works.
In terms of writing, I have so far done the same as I have the last three days — 2,000 words on the first draft of Bright Future, and a thousand words edited on Bright.
As of yet, I’m undecided on whether to stop there for the night or do another thousand words of Bright.
Usually, I”d be happy to stop, having already done a decent amount, but I’m staring down the barrel of a few days where I might not be able to get much done. Fay and I are going to lose a bit of time tomorrow when we get Sophie weighed, then on Friday we’re travelling three and a half hours to see Fay’s gran who will be meeting her great-granddaughter for the first time, then we’ll be travelling back on Saturday.
I’m worried I won’t get much done on any of these three days and, as such, should I do an extra thousand now, so that I can feel a bit better about it?
Hard to say.
I think, given it’s only twenty to eleven, once I’ve spell-checked this and posted, I’m going to give it a try.
Finger crossed I don’t regret it after fifty words, because I’m pretty OCD and hate stopping anywhere other than an even thousand.
This would take me to 79,000, which isn’t a great number anyway.
Also my eyes are hurting.
Okay, I’m not going to do it.