When I was bringing my first daughter home I would say that some artificial adoption hormone kicked in and I felt the need to fluff up the nest. I painted about 3000 sq. feet of wall space that summer of 2002. God forbid that 8 month old child have to see builders paint, oh no only Sherwin Williams Arts and Crafts collection Buckram Binding for my baby. She has, by the way yet to notice and its been 4 years, damn it. I'm still politely waiting for her to one day look up from her frozen waffle and calmly state, "What a lovely shade of light straw you selected for our home Mommy."
I think I honestly thought if I made some slight upgrade to the crib, she'd be happy and I'd be the "better" mom. That must be why the better "crib" is now being held together with Muffin Man's creativity and a few extra euro style screws. Ragazzi Italian crib my ass, I should have gone to Goodwill and popped the 1700 clams in the 529 plan.
Jump ahead 4 years and I'll give you the real skinny on nesting for been there done that parents. It has absolutely nothing to do with being a better or cleaner Mommy. It has to do with the fact now you know that if you don't clean it, paint it, or landscape it NOW it ain't gettin' done for another 3 years. You think it looks grungy now? Whooo wait until it has a layer of rice cereal added.
This explains my Saturday antics. Early this morning I easily convince my better half a trip to Lowes is necessary to landscape the back portion of the yard ripped up earlier this season due to the addition of the new playroom. He eagerly hops on board since it includes a family trip to Lowes and he is all about dragging Ava and I through every aisle, I exaggerate not. Extra time and energy is spent in the grill aisle. He casually works in how we are eating off rust since his grill hasn't been upgraded in 7 years. (Whatever buddy, we are going to China and that's your grill this year, asbestos or not.)
We purchase 15 bags of stained black mulch and various perinnials that are marked 50% off. It was only 95 degrees here today so working our asses off outside was pleasant! I realigned my c3 and c4 vertabrae planting copious amounts of hosta, lambs ear, and butterfly bushes. He followed behind with mulch. It was a symbiotic dance of husband and wifely team.
Then I realized that all the toys in the house needed to be cleaned and re-organized. Muffin Man begged me not to move any furniture because when I decide to clean toys, usually it means a trip to the chiropractor when furniture gets moved from point A to point B...for whatever reason. Oh, pisch I tell him, "Keep mulching something." Inside I make sure to carefully measure the new playroom for a train table that has been sitting idle in Ava's room for over a year. Ottomans are lifted overhead, chairs are hoisted into the kitchen. That train table will fit or else. Since the Muffin Man is now hiding out in his workshop refusing to play any more reindeer games, I decide to lift it all myself. Yes it fits and yes I'll be calling the chiropractor at 8am Monday.
I sit down to chill a bit and have a Saturday glass of vino while corn on the cob cooks. Since I have no time for a nutritious dinner for my clan, corn on the cob will do for Ava and I. Mulch Man will probably stab something that was bovine 24 hours ago anyway, ugh. He's on his own.
I sit and breathe deep in my productive day. I'm sipping chilled chardonnay watching my child's renewed interest in the moved toys. I revel in the fact that in 6 short weeks there will be no more home improvement for approximately 3 more years. The time it takes to grow a child into "entertain yourself for an hour" maturity.
Then I look up....damnit if the crown molding doesn't need repainting. Now there's a job for tomorrow.