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Rita's Pregnancy Pregnancy

Week 32 ~ April 6, 2005
~ One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest and Cleaned it Out

It's official, I've lost my mind to the nesting urge, and I am now completely insane. Oh yes, nesting has begun, and I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. I'm 32 weeks this week, and I have big plans for fixing up my house! This weekend, Tim will be away for the Army Reserves for four full days. At first I was disappointed, but now that I have big plans for his absence, I am really looking forward to the time apart! What are my big plans, you ask? I am going to build shelves in my basement. Sounds fabulous, doesn't it? Try to contain your jealousy as you read on.

This past Saturday, my in-laws were visiting us. We'd had an awful lot of rain, as had the entire Northeast, when Tim checked our sump-pump in the cellar. We were lucky in that, even though the pump was dead, the basement hadn't flooded yet. We were about 2" away from flood stage, but we caught it in time to act. We bailed out the sump using buckets, and then hit upon the idea of using my neighbor's pool pump to drain the sump until morning (all this occurred at about 11pm, long after Home Depot was an option anymore). Poor Tim had to stay up all night, babysitting the pump, although I didn't go to bed until 1am, and I got up at 4am to offer to take over pump babysitting duty for a while (he refused). The pump had to be turned on for 15 minutes every hour to drain the sump, thus keeping the cellar from flooding. At 8am on Sunday morning, he went and bought us a new sump pump plus an emergency stand-by pump, which we successfully installed in about 15 minutes, and we're safe from the threat of flooding. All of this is a long lead-up to my current state of excitement: The new shelves in my basement.

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On Sunday morning when we installed the sump pump, we brought Norah into the cellar with us, which she loved. I got the idea to neaten up and relocate our haphazard Christmas supplies, skis, empty boxes, etc. into one segmented alcove of the cellar so that Norah could have the run of the main part of the cellar. She had a great time running around, chasing us, being chased by us, and exploring. So this weekend, while Tim is gone, I'm going to have my niece over to babysit Norah and I'm going to build some shelves with my mom. I can't wait! When that's done, I can move all our gear over into the alcove, sweep and clean, and then, this is the best part: lay down some indoor-outdoor carpet for Norah to play on, sit on, ride her tricycle on, you name it. I am so excited to make this empty space into more of a play space for her. In preparation I have even washed the cellar windows, and begun stacking up empty boxes for the recycle guys to take away.

That's where the absolutely crazed, irrational nesting part comes in. You may have read this so far, saying to yourself "That's not so bad" or "She IS weird" or "That's unusual," or some other sane-thinking-person variant of the basic sentiment that this is slightly odd behavior but not totally out of the mainstream. But I'm here to tell you from the depths of my insanity that only I know how truly excited I am to be cleaning out my cellar this weekend, buying stacks of lumber, cutting it, nailing it, screwing it in place, and then moving all my stuff onto it. To say I'm gleeful is an understatement. Thrilled. Delighted. Tickled pink. I'm even thinking of taking a vacation day to start work a day early. It's all I've been able to think about since I hit upon the idea. I'm so excited to have my cellar looking good, I'm even going to the hardware store tonight to scout out shelving options in advance of actually beginning the project. Fascinating window into the mind of an insane woman, isn't it? And I am usually a pretty run-of-the-mill normal person.

Ah, the insanity of a nesting third trimester woman is completely evident in me. I vacuumed behind my bed, pulled the headboard out and vacuumed it, plus underneath the bed, and under all my dressers after work last week, immediately after cleaning my home's 2 1/2 bathrooms on my hands and knees. Why? Because I knew there was dust and dirt back there and it was making me bonkers. I couldn't rest another night knowing that dust mites were lurking nearby. So if anyone ever asks you if nesting is for real, please refer them to this journal entry. I am totally out of control. I feel such an overwhelming urge to straighten, clean, and dust; I know this isn't just normal cleaning. It's nesting. And I'm obsessed. This baby better get here and soon.

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