nesting

i have been nesting the shit out of my house the past couple of days. (i could barely stop long enough to write this.) for those of you that aren't privy to this phenomenon, it is the instinct that takes over a pregnant woman's brain and body...convincing them that if they do not clean and organize to the point of exhaustion, the child inhabiting their uterus will spontaneously combust upon birth. (you may laugh, but this is truly what it feels like...at least to me) if i don't go back to work soon, the entire contents of my house will be posted on craigslist and freecycle. there is also currently a large desk in my front yard with a 'free' sign hanging from it, a boxspring on my front porch, and several bags of miscellaneous items in bags awaiting delivery to goodwill. not to mention the fact that i made my husband clean out the attic today, because 'it just needed to be done'. it's a sickness. i've talked to other pregnant people about this, and i'm so glad i'm not the only one. one of my friends at one point was cleaning the rings that hold up her shower curtain. (apparently her newborn baby was going to need an impromptu teether?) one morning last week, i was bent over the toilet scrubbing it with bleach before work. butch just stared. (at this point, i think i scare him...he doesn't say too much.)

so, after ella was born...i kinda understood why this instinct kicks in. after you actually give birth to the baby, you do not have enough energy to wipe your own ass let alone clean and organize your house. things kind of go awry and you are so damn tired that the thought of cleaning a bathroom or organizing anything is kind of scary. (frightening, really.) butch has put up with my crap for the past couple of days, but i know at some point he is going to really going to lose his shit and tell me to knock it the hell off. prior to painting ella's big girl room (our former guest room) on friday, i showed him the colors i liked. i held out two paint swatches and he goes, "oh my god, trish! we can't paint ella's room that color." i looked at the swatch and was thinking...what the hell? it's PINK for christsake! instead i said, "why!?" he said, "um, the name?? Pink Ballet STRIPPER!...we can't have the color 'pink ballet stripper' on the walls of our daughters room!" confused, i looked at it again and then yelled, "the color is called pink ballet SLIPPER you moron!" after a laughing spell, he agreed that the pink ballet stripper hue would be just fine. i figure it's a good thing to keep him laughing, because i'd rather not have him smother me in my sleep. (maybe this is why so many husbands kill their pregnant wives?)

you know damn well that you are acting like martha stewart on steroids, but you can't stop. i had butch so wound up on saturday, that after loading our car with furniture (that was being transported to my friend fen's house), he backed my car into his car that was also parked in our driveway. i heard a smash and looked out the bay window. he gets out (face chalk white) and sees me and i yell (through the window) "what the hell are you doing?!" he goes, "i didn't see my damn car! i didn't see it!!" (hands flying all over the place) judging from the array of shit on our lawn and porch, along with that glorious incident...our neighbors probably think we are goddamn idiots. (rightfully, so.) upon inspection, the cars weren't that banged up...and we laughed about it, but i know his breaking point is coming soon. again, i need to go back to work so that i don't have so much time on my hands to devote to this nesting business. i just got done dangling from a ladder (cleaning the ceiling fans) long enough to write this. however, i will say, i really hope that when i do go back to work after easter that i have everything cleaned and organized the right way...because i surely don't want my unborn child to bust into flames upon delivery.