Some more girlish nesting

I sewed a few extra diapers for the stash.







They are super soft minky. I love them. Inners







And a couple covers. Just don't look too closely at the stitching! My machine decided it didn't want to sew zigzag anymore and I had a big fight with it.



Which look the same but are different on the inside






So I can still be that proverbs woman yet, right?

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This is the way we build a nest...

As I approach the final stretch of this pregnancy, the nesting urge is kicking in big time. You know, like when you get the feeling that you simply cannot have a baby while the closet is this disorganized.

So, thanks again to Ana White and her fabulous ideas and easy to follow plans, I did some nesting with power tools.





And built some laundry basket dressers






They're not lookers, but they're functional. I did stain them a nice dark red oak and it's quite purdy. I don't have a pic of that though.

Anyway, we cleared out our closets and put these in there to store our clothes, which is much less annoying than dealing with overfilled dresser drawers with broken handles and the bottoms keep falling out etc. I feel much better about the closet.

I've also done some more traditional nesting; scrubbing floors and couches, cleaning appliances, cleaning kitchen cabinets, scrubbing bath tub, sewing diapers and post partum pads, washing walls etc etc. I don't feel like it's quite good enough yet. Which is ok, since I have a few weeks to go yet, so I need to keep busy. I don't know how my house will ever get a deep clean like this when I'm done having babies...this seems to be the only time I ever get it done.

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Help me not fall in love...

....with this little beast we found on our kitchen floor this morning.



In case you're getting judgy - my house has been extremely clean lately. I'm in that nesting stage and my kitchen has never seen cleaner days. But we are out in the country and mice happen. I know there is a population in the garage and I guess the mom came in to make use of our air conditioning or something. Rene found what he thought was the beginnings of a nest in a previously empty drawer in the kitchen this morning. He checked it was empty and then cleared it all out. A few hours later I almost stepped on this wee vermin who was simply splattered out on the floor after a long journey across the kitchen. It looks to be about 4 days old.

We called the wildlife rehabilitators but they said they won't take in baby mice because they have such a low survival rate. She said we could try, but there's not much hope and they require a lot of time and care. I'm sorry but this 8 month pregnant, pro-life, vegetarian mother is not leaving any baby anything to die without giving it a fighting chance, no matter how ugly it's going to be when it's all grow'd up.

So Rene ran out to get kitten formula and I started boiling water (to sterilize equipment) while the kids made a make shift nest. And until it weans or dies it looks like I'll be feeding it every 1-2 hours. Just as well I don't have much of a social life anyway. I guess it's good practice for what we'll be doing soon enough.

And I'm telling myself not to fall in love. But the wee thing latches on to the dropper and puts its little paw up, then buries its head into my hands for warmth and comfort. I'm such a big ball of sentiment right now. I know this is going to end with a broken heart. But I can't help it. Darn it. *Sigh*

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A couple of embarrassing stories

I know, I know. I haven't written a blog post in for-ever. But I wanted to share a couple of embarrassing stories from over the weekend, and they're too long for a facebook status, so I figured I could dust off this space and maybe start using it again.


EXCUSE THE HORMONES, PLEASE

We were already running late, but couldn't resist the opportunity when we drove past a yard sale full of baby girl things. We don't know if Baby Chicken will be a boy or a girl, but so far the pregnancy seems to have gone a lot like my girl pregnancies did. With my boy pregnancies, I seemed to have an extra edge, ambition, angst, energy. I definitely seemed to be full of testosterone. My girl pregnancies softened me up; I'm sensitive, emotional, feminine. I kind of like it. I've been feeling that way lately, so we have our suspicions of sugar and spice. Time will tell, I suppose. I've been wrong every time other than Zoe, so I don't really trust my intuition.

Because of the time constraints and because it's so darn annoying to constantly unbuckle a gazillion (or so it feels) car seats just to redo them five minutes later, Rene and the kids stayed in the car while I ran up the drive to do some baby girl shopping. I don't get five minutes alone very often, it was a treat! I picked out a bundle of beautiful babygros in pinks and purples for 50c a piece and found myself getting emotional imagining my sweet little Chicken filling them out in the not too distant future. I fought back the lump in my throat, as this was certainly not the time nor the place to start acting all "girl pregnant".

I figured I'd buy myself some time to regain composure before purchasing my items, so I stooped down to look through a tote of children's books. Seemed like a good idea at the time...

I quickly discovered this was no innocent tote of children's books. This was a tote chock full of unexpectedly over-sentimental, potently tear inducing, heart string tugging words and illustrations that I was utterly powerless against. Books about "Grandma loved you before you were born", were sweet enough, but I could handle it. The book explaining Heaven and how to deal with loss of a loved one, aimed at 5 year old had me pulling out all my defenses. I was certainly choking back tears at "I Believe in you", a beautiful book full of a mother's encouragement to the little tots. But when I reached, "Let Me Hold You Longer" by Karen Kingsbury, and read the first page,

"Long ago you came to me, a miracle of firsts:
First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
a sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave me to your past,
And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts."

I was a bawling mess. Heck, I'm crying again now typing it.

So I there I squatted, in some stranger's driveway weeping my eyes out, dropping baby girl clothes all over the ground, sobbing into my hands while my husband and kids waited patiently in the car. The lady of the house came gently over to me, offered to carry the clothes and help me up while I apologized in between sobs and scolded her for having such sentimental material sitting there with no warnings when there are clearly hormonal people around here. She was very polite, but kept the transaction as swift as possible and as I jumped in the passenger seat of our car and began explaining myself to Rene, I was filled with gratitude that I would never have to meet that woman ever again. No dignity in that, whatsoever.




SING IT OUT

The following day we made a trip to Lowes. I know I'm getting a bit uncomfortable in my third trimester, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to handle some power tools and make myself some furniture. I'm going to try anyway.

It's always inevitable that any Lowes trip will involve at least one multi person trip to the restroom and water fountains. I guess it's the highlight of the excursion for the little ones. Being the good mother that I am, I thought I'd make a mundane event a little more cheerful, by singing to my 5 year old in the cubicle beside me while we carried out our necessary duties. I don't remember exactly how it went, as I was making it up as I go along (jazz style), but it was something like this,
"Oh yeah
we're going to pee, pee, pee
it's so fun to pee, pee, pee
can you pee with me?
We all need to pee
every day
we can pee every day."


I made sure it was loud and enthusiastic to keep her interest. Imagine my horror when I heard the sound of a high heel shoe hit the ground under the cubical wall, instead of my daughter's little sneaker. Turns out Zoe had chosen not to go in the one next to me, but rather had headed for the large wheelchair accessible one way at the other end...and apparently we weren't alone in the restroom after all.

I did what any self respecting person would do - rushed Zoe to wash her hands and get the heck out of there before the lady was done. Unfortunately, Rene needed to go when we were done, and the moment the lady walked out of the bathroom, smirking at me, I happened to be half way through a silly song about driving in a car, sung to Ally. Otherwise maybe she wouldn't have known it was me?? *sigh*. At least I'll never have to see her again either.



So there you go. Two embarrassing stories, too long for a facebook status, but worth sharing nonetheless.

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