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August 15, 2010

Not sure if (and don’t really care to ponder too hard) whether nesting represents some deep biological instinct or a simple practical recognition that a new baby is about to atom bomb your life so better get cracking.

Whatever the reason it’s in full swing round these parts.

For once I have channeled my dear husband and decided to clean by literally making a huge (and I mean HUGE) mess. I tend to normally stick to the clean one small area, check, done, move on to the next small area school of housekeeping. Instead I’ve been in a weeklong frenzy of flinging things out of closets and cupboards right and left and piling them on the floor to rebuild rooms piece by piece. I actually watched Jarah attempt to slide down a pile of clothes in our bedroom yesterday…and succeed quite nicely.

Then came the furniture hauling…I asked Nick to move out a double wide dresser in the Jarah/Baby room and bring in a 6 foot hight shelf set. After giving him about 7.3 hours to accomplish this task, I decided to do it myself and felt pretty badass. Nick then came home from work wondering why I felt the need to do what I asked him to do over breakfast when he came home. Because… Because? Just because.

So time to go. Have a diaper spray potion to concoct, a playdate to commence in 15 minutes, a (nother) pile of cloth diapers to sort, laundry closet to excavate, tomatoes to repot, a small country to conquer and a patiently ankle tapping toddler who is currently over Elmo’s World and ready for some Duplo.

T-minus 3 weeks…

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