Nesting

I don't think the 'nesting' phenomenon is so much based on a burst of energy as a burst of panic.

With Aine, I kept waiting for this month or two of energy and motivation that I'd read about where I would make amazing, unprecedented strides in the way of organization and cleanliness.  
It never happened. 

This time, I think I've been 'nesting' since I peed on the stick.  It is 100% panic-driven.  I have been driving David and Aine nuts with my demands for cleanliness (which apparently still aren't quite strong enough).  I have channeled my little sister as list-maker extraordinaire.  I can see one-day-old dust under the kitchen table and it haunts me like a thick blanket of ash has infiltrated my living space.  I took a shower yesterday and didn't get out until I'd scrubbed the entire inside of the stall with bathroom cleaner.  I am buying washcloths, sponges, and scouring pads like an NRA member stocking-piling ammo.  I graze the 'storage solutions' aisles at the home stores dreaming up uses for all the stacking bins and rolling drawer towers.  Nearly every door in my house has some sort of organization device hanging behind it.  I think the guest bathroom and Aine's bedroom closet are the only ones left-out thus far. I glare at my sofa, wanting to take it outside and give it what-for with a pressure washer.  

This morning, I managed to wash dishes, scrub counter tops, make french toast, clean up from that, freshen the water jugs for the chickens, hang shoe bags from Aine's bedroom and guest room closet doors, fill said bags with random hard-to-find-a-place-for things, model and instruct Aine regarding their use, make a hairbow/barrette organizer from a hanger and some ribbons, organize Aine's hairbows/barrettes using her new hanger, and make a new barrette to match her dress since I couldn't find the one she already had that matches - all in the midst of getting out the door for church.


This is an obsession.  And it has not, I repeat, has NOT been accompanied by any extra energy.