Breaking all previous agreements with those wonderful men and women who helped us to move last time on the condition that we wouldn’t move again any time soon, we’ve crossed the city into a house on Bransholme, within shouting distance of Kingswood.

I wonder why they call it “shouting distance”… really, it all depends on the shouter and the shoutee. Does the shouter have a particularly loud voice? Does the shoutee have super hearing? There are too many variables to define what “shouting distance” actually is.

Anyway, the logic behind this year’s moving story is that we want a place to settle and bring up a family. The house is a three bedroom property in a very quiet part of Bransholme, and it’s great. The moving process went quite well, albeit it took seemingly forever, with many a late night car journey between the house and flat.

After we looked at one house on Longhill that was sort of promising but not really comfortable, Chantelle went with her parents to look at this house in Bransholme. I got a call at work, and she was falling over herself trying to tell me how great the house was, and how her parents loved it. I was told that it was very old person-esque, but that there was furniture there, it was double glazed and had central heating, it’s in a lovely area and so on. We decided to go for it, in spite of the fact that I was yet to see this property, but I completely trusted Chantelle and knew that she wouldn’t choose a place that would be anything less than a place she would want to bring up a family.

Turns out the tenant’s uncle lived in the house before moving back to Pakistan to take up his medical practice again – he’s 74 and UK authorities wouldn’t let him work past the retiring age!! – and everything that was left in the house had been there when he took residence, after the previous couple had moved into a residential home. So, all the furniture, curtains, carpets etc were all left behind. It’s all very old people-esque, but it means that we didn’t have to worry about moving the sofa or table and chairs, and we can always replace the stuff later on when we can afford it.

So far so good.

After nearly three years at Comet, I’m now moving on…to another department at Comet. Moving away from the Specialist Web Team where I’ve pretty much exhausted all career options, I’m heading to “proper” Comet to work on the Business Services Management Information team which looks after all sorts of reporting and analytical stuff, looking at trends in sales and refunds, and also reporting to Comet’s insurance clients on what they’ve spent their money on, and so on. In some way it’s a kind of “growing up” work wise, dealing with time and cost sensitive information, and working to strict business guidelines. Whilst it’s not realising any long term ambitions, it’s providing an opportunity to try something completely different, and there are more opportunities for development around the Business Services department.

As was mentioned in my review with my team leader yesterday, I’ve had “itchy feet” for a while. Apart from the Police, which is more of a long term goal, in the short term my ambitions are pretty basic really. I want a job I’m comfortable in, where I can develop myself and be really good at it, without having the responsibility of being a team leader or manager. Some people are good at managing, but it’s not for me, especially when it involves working longer hours or taking work home for a job I’m not totally enthusiastic about.

On reflection over the last six months – it was our half year wedding anniversary last weekend!! – I’m grateful for how mine and Chantelle’s relationship has grown and strengthened, and I look back through events and moments before and after our engagement and wedding, and I can see how we’ve become more understanding of each other. I might be seen as the Patriarch of our family and the one who should lead by example and guide with love and wisdom, but my goodness she’s the one that shows me what I example to set! In fact, it’s been with her help – that is, gentle nudging and showing “an increase of love toward him whom [Chantelle] hast reproved“  – that I’ve experienced slow but sure moments of growing up-ness, and I appreciate her for completing me in such a way.

Chantelle has also had her cooking and baking fire relit, which always warrants reams and reams of approval from me. Over the last few weeks I’ve enjoyed Chicken Parmigiana, a fantastic Curry, Quesadillas, Barbeque Chicken, a Greek Salad, and more. I have a week off in April, and I’m determined to try my hand at cooking and creating my own wonderful culinary disasters masterpieces. I had to take tuition from Chantelle in peeling an onion, and I still couldn’t manage it.

So far so good.

Chantelle will of course tell you – and I freely admit - that I still have my childish moments. But the main theme of this philosophical insight today is my “growing up” somewhat since getting engaged and then married.

I guess my thoughts started a few nights ago, when Chantelle advised me that the toilet seat needed fixing. Under normal circumstances, a trivial matter such as this would not particularly arouse much thinking or pondering. But, this is Shaun’s world. It got me thinking about how domesticated I’ve become, how I’ve started to get a bit more house proud, and how I’m starting to like this whole taking care of my family stuff. I’m starting to feel more responsible, and a little more adult – in the grown up sense that is, and not in the R-rated sense.

It’s simple things, such as learning how to put a duvet cover on properly. When I lived with my parents, I would happily strip the sheets and pillowcases when they needed washing, but somehow, the next day, the covers would just magically appear back on the duvet and pillows. The secret? Mum. I recalled the first (and probably last) time I attempted to put the cover back on the duvet myself. I wasn’t particularly au fait on how to put a duvet cover back on. I was blissfully unaware that the most effective way is to turn it inside out, wrap it around the duvet, and then let gravity take its course. So, thinking that the duvet was simply a giant pillow, I attempted to pull the cover over the duvet from one end. I then proceeded to continue dragging the cover and duvet around my bedroom floor for a good three or four minutes, before I realised that it wasn’t working and I gave up.

What ties taking the duvet for a walk around my room and growing up, I hear you say. Nothing really – Chantelle was particularly amused by this story, and I thought it might make an amusing waste of two minutes of your life that you now can’t get back. Me, on the other hand, took great care and pleasure in creating this story.

The whole point to this seemingly mindless waffle is that marriage does something to men. I think. Well it has for me. It’s made me grow up just a little bit, just so I can start to appreciate what Chantelle appreciates – a good clean home, taking pride in our family, and a clean, warm, well made bed.

I’m 24, married and Mormon, living in a funky little riverside flat in Hull city centre. I live with my uber-wife, Chantelle, work in the Comet call centre in the city, and as described above, I’m pretty useless at blogging. But, I’ll try and pick my brains, organise my thoughts and tell you what’s happening in as organised a way as possible……

I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes or so trying to track down a half-decent WordPress  theme – I can be very picky sometimes – and I reckon this sort of look and layout suits me pretty well…..at least it has Chantelle’s approval..! I had a faff around with WordPress when I first bought this web site, but got annoyed/bored/fed up and left it alone, but upon seeing Chantelle’s funky and revamped web site I figured it was time to have another go, so tah dah! I’m not bored yet, and as proof here’s my first post!

“Confessions of a New Husband” will hopefully be a place to catch up on what’s going on with me, work, church, marriage, family, friends, and any other stuff I feel to be worthy of comment here – don’t be a stranger…I’ll try not to be!

Shaun