I think that, with the obsessive organizing and cleaning and OMG everything has to be scrubbed or replaced or painted STAT! we can safely say that I'm nesting. I think this is a little further than I would usually take things. Which is good, because it just makes sense to scrub, replace, or paint everything now, before Ariel gets here. The real beauty of it, though? Is the fact that my husand is nesty right there with me!
I mentioned this to Kanga the other day, and she nodded. "It's my fault. I always had him doing projects with me when he was little." I don't know about fault, but I will totally give her credit for it. She is the most crafty, thrifty, artsy woman that has ever lived.
And it is thanks to her that I have a husband who pulled into the driveway yesterday and said, "I love having a house. What do you want to get done on it today, babe?" And then hung curtains, lifted sundry heavy things for me, re-arranged the furniture in the family room no less than four times because I wouldn't be satisfied with it, and promised to get up bright and early today to assemble our new dresser from IKEA.
Kanga came over the other day to show him how to install a new light fixture in the bathroom (the old one defies description. Or sanity.) and now that he knows how, he's going to replace the one in the dining room, too. Even though he thinks the chandelier that I picked out at IKEA (This blog post brought to you by IKEA! Apparently.) is ugly and cheap-looking. I maintain that it is pretty, and costs $40, which makes it look perfectly fine until the day when I can afford to buy one of those $200 chandeliers at the boutique down the road.
And he breaks out the leaf blower and the hedge trimmer while insisting that I take a nap.
And he is hot.
And he tells me at random intervals throughout the day that I am beautiful or adorable, or some variation thereof. When in reality I am being whiny and/or bratty, and have not bothered to brush my hair all day.
You could safely say that I am thankful for my husband. I hope I am thankful for every minute of time that we have together, because each one is a gift.
And now I must go clean out my kitchen again. Because we got the family room COMPLETELY DONE* last night, at the expense of several kitchen counters, and I need to be able to find my way around so I can cook my offering of sweet potatoes for today's family meal at Gran's. And please rid your mind of all yammy, marshmallow-y images. My sweet potatoes are different. Or as my adored husband put it, "Oh, yeah, those potatoes. They were sweet." We have had no end of jokes from this (because we don't get out much!) about potatoes! That are strangely sweet! And also orange! Now I've seen EVERYTHING!
Which is probably what the Pilgrims said on the first Thanksgiving, right? I thought so.
*Except hanging pictures and such, the curtains for one window, putting the DVDs away, getting Joey's Big Daddy TV repaired and set up, cleaning the carpet (that has already been professionally cleaned, but obviously, if you want something done right...), getting the fireplace looked at and working, and collapsing into a quivering heap of gelatinous ooze because dear sweet Lord, it will NEVER END!!