Nesting

Nesting. It's what they call the compulsive need to clean out every nook and cranny of your living space prior to the arrival of a child (by arrival, of course, I mean birth.)

We had been out-of-town and busy for the last two weeks or so, and when Monday morning hit this week, I was ready to nest the day away. It's easy to forget, however, in this stage that your body is toting around an extra person and about 20 random pounds that hopefully will go away quickly when aforementioned extra person no longer needs internal toting.

So anyhow, yesterday morning, I eagerly emptied out closets and cleaned things up that haven't seen a cleaning in two years or so. It felt great. I was going strong. Moving. Lifting. Crates of canned goods couldn't stop me. So I just kept plugging away at it...feeling good about how much progress I was making. Until about 7:00. Crash doesn't quite describe the wall that hit me or that I hit when I sat down to eat supper. Pregnancy does some strange things to you, and apparently, I don't have quite 9 hours of straight through cleaning in me these days. Every part of my exhausted body began to cry out over the injustice done to it during the day. Needless to say, I spent the evening lying on the couch and hobbling back and forth between it and the bathroom.

So, a word to all you women out there who are 8 1/2 months pregnant, your mind may tell you, "You can do this," but your body just might not cooperate.