Not waving, just DIYing

An ex-boyfriend once described me as the clumsiest person he'd ever met. With this in mind, I probably shouldn't DIY.

Today I have:

- poured boiling water over myself (twice) (wallpaper steamer)
- tried to dismount the side of the bath while standing on my own trouser hem (twice)
- attempted to use an empty paint can as a step and fallen over
- sustained carpet burn to my arse while attempting to move a massive pile of planks with my legs
- had to remove paint from my eye
- trapped my arm in a clothes airer (not strictly DIY)
- sealed my armpits so that paint won't ever flake off them

and generally turned my poor husband's hair slightly greyer with my frequent shrieks and squeals. If we had more money then men would be doing this, not me.

First children are best

To be honest, I've always suspected this was true, but if you tell people that you are pregnant with your first child then they are about two million times (rounded up) more excited than when you tell them about your second. And it's all so disproportionate. First pregnancy: got drunk, job done. Second one: over a year of trying, carefully orchestrated shenanigans, gave up booze, moved bedrooms, peed on sticks, took my temperature every morning, overshared on the internet, and all for some slightly half-hearted congratulations.

Also:

- apparently I can only get pregnant if I sleep in a different room to my husband; and
- the quickest way to get back to my pre-baby weight is to get pregnant again.

Who knew?