Nesting

Call it what you will, but I don't think Mikey will want to move while his wife is pregnant ever again. But the end of move in day, I had every box unpacked but the boxes of books (and those were only still in boxes because we hadn't yet bought a bookshelf--which is another story. . .) It's fun to make a new space.

The night before we moved in we met our landlord to get the keys; make sure everything was clean and ready for us to move in the next day. The carpets were wet and smelled like cleaner and our landlord was just touching up a few former nail holes on the wall he had recently patched over. He gave us the keys and we left him to finish up.

When we got in the car Mikey knew I was not happy. It looked so small! How could we ever fit our lives and our new baby in there? The bedroom wasn't what I had remembered and now my dreams of having even a nursery corner were over. (Mind you, I had been kept up for days thinking about how we would arrange the furniture so we could fit the crib, dressers, bed . . .)

We came back later that night after he had left. I sobbed. Seriously? Yes seriously. And it's embarrassing now that things are moved in and I honestly love where we live. But I noticed things that set me off: no garbage disposal? No counter space in the bathroom? No place for a crib? I sat down on the only seat in the empty place--the toilet--and cried and cried. I went to reach for some T.P. to wipe my eyes with and when I saw where the dispenser was located and how I nearly fell off the john when I reached for it, things got ugly.

We left shortly thereafter. But moved in the next morning. And what do you know?! Sleep actually makes people rational, and happy, and able to deal with a toilet paper dispenser on the wall rather than right next to the pot.

My poor husband. I think he's anxious for this baby to come so a sense of sanity will be restored to his wife. (But I maintain that I haven't been that bad. Honest.)

However, the "Nesting instinct" that kicks in was a force to be reckoned with in me. It was after ten (which is late at our house) and there I was nailing and drilling coat hooks into the wall. I couldn't stop. It was weird. And while I have always been someone who doesn't like to stop until things are done, this was different. While I sat at church I got this twitch because I wanted to come home and hang pictures on the walls and the painting over the couch.

I have reorganized the few baby outfits we have probably half a dozen times.

I'm crazy.