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Nesting

I am slowly but surely tackling those items on my list of “things to do before Rerun arrives.”

Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa came over Monday with the basinette. This is a family tradition – and probably too old to be considered “safe” anymore, but three generations have slept in it. Ane loves hearing the list of who has slept in the basinette (which includes her, naturally). Anyway, it is here, but I really had to vacuum out the spot in our room where it is going to be. And then vacuuming wasn’t enough, so I got out the portable vacuum with all the attachments, and sucked up all the dust bunnies living right around the molding on the floor.

Later that evening, well after the great-grandparents had left and the Webmaster got home, I got back to my vacuuming. While Ane and the Webmaster played another game of Princess Yahtzee, Tad followed me around with a couple of attachments, pretending to vacuum, while I continued getting into little corners, nooks, crannies, and other spots that were showing a little too much dust.

All the continuous noise finally got the Webmaster’s attention, who came into Tad’s room to find me vacuuming off the valance curtain – something I had just finished doing in our room.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he hollered over the vacuum.

“NESTING!” I yelled back.

Apparently, that answer was good enough for him. He backed away as if to say, I’m not messing with the pregnant woman with the long-handled vacuum attachment in her hand.

Not everything is done, but I am trying to keep up with the “regular” chores as I work on my punch list. Tad has been “helping” me do the dishes each night that we have time – which means he stands next to me with three or four items ans plays while I wash, but he enjoys it immensely – and the ironing board just came down… again. The Webmaster did some of his own ironing Monday, and I finished some up yesterday. And I gave the bathroom the once-over yesterday, too.

I am also packing for the hospital – Rerun has his own little bag packed already, which is now in my large duffel bag, along with a couple of wrapped presents. Rerun has been shopping off eBay from the womb, and he has a present each for his big sister and big brother. They, in turn, have a present for him – but they don’t know that they’re getting anything yet. Shhh…

I’ve even wrapped Belle’s birthday present and taken it to Grandma’s house so we can combine shipping and send it off on time. Belle’s birthday is three days before Rerun’s due date, and I have a feeling that I might be a little distracted around that time.

In the meantime, life continues on as normally as possible, even with my nesting, especially now that the kids are back in school. Tad keeps trying to smuggle home a sandbox of his own in his shoes, Ane’s first reading chart is almost full, and both kids keep trying to beat on each other.

I did catch Tad in the basinette already, though. Scared me to death – he had crammed himself in there and it’s not meant to hold a four and a half year old, wiry though he may be. I informed him that that was a “baby bed” and NOT for big boys like him.

It was the first time that I’d seen him make a connection between my “baby tummy” and anything else. He patted my middle, kissed it, and said, “Oh, nice baby tummy,” and then contemplated the new piece of furniture that I had just pulled him out of. “Baby bed,” he proclaimed.

He might be starting to connect the dots. Who knows? I still think it’s going to be a cold dose of reality for him when a newborn shows up in the house and doesn’t leave.

2 Responses to “Nesting”

  1. Aunt Lynda
    February 24th, 2010 07:39
    1

    Thanks for the reminder. I had forgotten nesting. Guess I need to pretend I’m expecting so I will clean house. I don’t seem to really care any more.
    Anyway, I loved your nesting blog.

  2. Ressis
    February 24th, 2010 07:42
    2

    First off, I don’t know why the Webmaster would even question the vacuuming, it means he doesn’t have to do it.

    Second, girls are pretty predictable with babies; they love them and want to mother them (I said, “mother” not “smother” but they kind of go together). Boys are always a mystery until the baby’s arrived. I’ve heard about boys wanting to fetch diapers, but not help care for them in any other way. I’ve heard about a big brother pulling his infant brother out of the crib but his neck so that they could play. I can’t even being to guess with Tad, he might surprise us all.