Power Nesting 2.0

Forgive the lapse in correspondence, dear reader. I've been busy. No, "busy" is an understatement. I've been nesting. If you don't know the difference between the sudden urge to clean stuff and actual nesting, here's a real-life example from the field guide:

When you see a box of miscellaneous items in need of sorting and placement and make a mental note to take care of it the next weekend, you're experiencing a garden-variety urge to tidy up. When you see a box of miscellaneous items in need of sorting and placement, level your gaze at it and warn it in a low growl, "YOU'RE ON MY LIST," you might be nesting.

If you recall, I went through something like this when I was pregnant with Little Man too -- but the onset has begun far earlier than last time... and with a vengeance, too. In the past two weeks I have begun carrying out strategic raids on the boxes, bags, stacks and piles of things in my closet (and my son's) (and my kitchen) (and the play area) (and the hall storage) (and my garage) (and the bathroom) that I've just been manuevering around since we moved into the Abbey nearly two years ago, passing them along on Freecycle and Craigslist to the people who asked the nicest and/or could get them out of my house the soonest. I've done laundry every day for these two weeks, and now --alas -- I'm left with nothing to wash but spare cotton blankets and random yet-to-be donated articles of clothing. 

Today's exploits will include finding a home for about half of my sizable yarn stash, returning to my hall closet only the things that actually belong there, donating all FORTY POUNDS of half-used bottles of shampoos, soaps and lotions to someplace where they'll be better appreciated, retrieving the last box of my son's infant clothes from the garage to see how many of them his sister can wear, and... doing a little happy dance because it's only taken me two weeks to undo clutter that it took years to accumulate.  I think only a house fire could have done the job faster, but they're known for being undesirably thorough...

I'd like to take this opportunity to offer public thanks and accolades to the guys who live with me -- five of the bravest men I know -- for not conspiring to kill me in my sleep after all this. Or at least not going through with it.

More later. There's a big box of stuff in the other room taunting me, and I'm off to go rain down hellfire on its misbegotten ass. I mean, um, sort and recycle it.

Comments

[cheryl]

Theory #2: Maybe it's the 100F+ weather bringing + latter pregnancy bringing this on (a bit earlier). This weather seems to either induce ice tea slurping lethargy or intense whirlwind-like "summer cleaning" activity.

I'm glad things are more relaxed this time around (pregnancy-wise). You all will be in my prayers.

:)Cheryl