Nesting...Part I

Confession: house cleaning is the bane of my existence. No, really! Especially with two little ones running about. As soon as I get something cleaned, it's a mess again in less than 5 minutes. (Just lucky, I guess!) Anyone who knows me--and not even very well--knows I don't profess to have any kind of house keeping prowess.

Over the last 3 weeks, however, my nesting instinct (and hubby Jon's) has kicked in full force. Normally, my nesting instinct appears as irritation at the general clutter and disorganized-ness of my abode and I shove piles of books and folded laundry aside to make room for a bassinet.

As I mentioned before, this time around we've been doing a lot of re-arranging. Today, we finally got the computer desk moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. I had hoped to be able to take it outside and paint all black to hide just how entirely hideoderous it is, but no such luck...it snowed off and on all day today. Guess we'll just live with the "ug" factor for now. Hopefully, having it located in the Center of Guest Reception will force me to keep it tidy. *knocking on fake computer desk wood*

Unfortunately, we remembered today that rearranging a space that's already a mess makes an even BIGGER mess. And so I present my shame to the world...

I swear it was only half this bad when we began today!

But we DID get the leaf in the table (and shattered a glass in the process). And look at the lovely print we FINALLY got on the wall! We've had that thing leaning up against the wall in the corner for over a year just waiting to be displayed.

The smaller, calmer part of myself is trying to keep the crazed "have to have this mess cleaned up even though it's almost 1 in the morning" part of myself from hyperventilating. I just have to keep telling her, "Rearranging makes things worse before they get better." Right? RIGHT?!

New-ish

My favorite word today is "new-ish." We've been doing a lot of rearranging in the house lately...our nesting instinct is revealing itself through this intense desire to move our furniture around. :) A couple of weeks ago, we rearranged our bedroom--took us 3 days and we're still only mostly done. Our project this week was our living room. The thing I love about changing the set up of these rooms is money...or our lack thereof. As my friend Jennifer said on Facebook the other day, "...it makes a room feel all clean and new-ish!" Great word.

We hadn't moved any of our furniture in the living room (save to make space for the tree at Christmastime) for three years. So you can imagine the amount of dusting and un-cluttering we had to do! But in the process, I rediscovered several decor items right when I was wishing I could go buy something just for some kind of change! My front bathroom feels completely different with the help of three small "new-ish" seaside prints on the wall. And I love the fact that I didn't have to buy new furniture (or finally get curtains to go over the blinds) to get that "new-ish" feeling in my living room. My too-thin purse-strings are heaving a sigh of relief. :)

Once the room is finally complete, I'll try to put up some pics...not to demonstrate it's new-ishness, but because that was a frickin' lot of work and, dang it, I'm going to show it off, man!

Just three of the new-old items I rediscovered. Don't ask me what the silver thing is...I have no idea. I just know it's vintage and it's silver...and a pain in the NECK to clean!

Strange spa

I've been thinking a lot about child birth lately. Probably because I'm expecting for the third time and three months away from delivering. But my oldest son's birthday a few weeks ago might also have something to do with it. His delivery was pretty horrific. I'll spare you (if you're there at all, friend reader) the gory details. Suffice it to say that I went in Sunday evening to be induced and then 21 hours, a full course of magnesium sulfate, and a C-section later, BAM! he was here!

Reliving the experience, it plays out something like a horror movie...that's a little blurry around the edges (that was probably from the magnesium sulfate--worst stuff in the world). Panic and hyperventilating coupled with shock makes for a somewhat unpleasant first time experience. My gorgeous boy made it all worth it, though...just so I'm being clear.

So what's the relevance of this somewhat graphic reverie? Well, thinking about the birth of my first naturally led me to think about the birth of my second. And as I was reflecting on the much calmer introduction of my daughter into the world, the thought occurred to me that it was almost like going to a spa.

I know what you must be thinking: "...........???" Allow me to elaborate. When I was pregnant with my second baby, my doctor asked me if I wanted to try a VBAC. Naturally, in that moment, it all came screaming back to me. "No," I said, "I'd rather do another C-section, if that's okay." So the big day came, we got all dolled up, and off we went. We were cheerily led into the operating room where some pleasant music was playing in the background. I sat on the table and the doctor gave me a spinal block, which was awesome, by the way...And then there she was! No whisking her away to NICU, no stress...no hyperventilating.

So you see, it's much like going in for a treatment at a spa. "What are we doing for you today?" "Oh, I'd just like to have this baby removed so I can take him home." "Splendid! Will that be debit or credit?" I will admit, the operating room is a little colder than the rooms would be at a spa. I'll have to take it up with the manager.

Hind sight...

I was looking back today, approximately 10 years back...ish, and reading the Class of 99 insert for The Buzz at Bonneville High School. It included a senior class will & testament (things we left to the underclassmen), seniorly advice, our addresses (for that correspondence we were sure we would keep up!), and of course a little blurb about what we hoped to accomplish.

Mine read:
"Amanda Love
6613 Orlinda Lane
Plans: Utah State University,
marriage 101...lots of BABIES!"

Awesome. Actually, upon reading this, I think my actual response was, "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Oh, Eighteen-year-old Me! No "loftier" dreams like recording an album or writing a book? Or designing a high-end spring line?! Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to diminish the roll of motherhood. Not at all.

But the things you know now, little girl! *snort!* The phrases you never thought you'd say. Stuff like, "Please don't color on your bed," and "We don't touch Mommy's boobies." And WHO COULD GUESS, at a time when you were into the latest fashion trend and top single on the radio, that one day, you would squeal over the latest...Diaper Genie...II!! (The one you DON'T have to twist so you really can do it one-handed!)

All joking aside, you had your sights set right, Eighteen-year-old Me. Though this job (and it is a job, as you came to find almost immediately) is difficult and challenging--and you constantly find yourself in awe of the fact that your mother, who had eight children, never drowned ONE of you, NOT ONE!--it is by far the most meaningful and rewarding thing you've ever done.

Now, go clean that poop off the floor. :)

(then and now)