Let the Nesting Begin

My third child is due in 11 weeks. I think this means I'm officially in my third trimester, right? It's funny how I followed my progress religiously the first time around, and now it's all about going with the flow. No books, no weekly e-mail updates. Perhaps this means this child will be a bit more laid back? My first child is very concerned about rules and schedules, but that could be a first born thing.

There are two obvious signs that I'm in my third trimester. One: heartburn. Two: nesting! Last week I purchased a new (to me) 1-shelf bookcase from Pottery Barn Kids off of Craig's list. It fits perfectly under my bedroom window and next to the bed. It's so nice to have my books and the millions of kids' books neatly organized instead of spread all over the floor, avalanche style. Who knew that a simple book shelf could change my life so radically?? But it does not end there! Oh, no. On Sunday, my husband took the boys to a local skating rink to find out about skating lesson. While they were away, I spent an hour on my hands and knees scrubbing the wool rug in the living room. It looked so good that I decided to take the scrub brush to the navy cotton canvas-covered chair in the room, too. The arms of this chair were DISGUSTING. So bad that every time I walked through the room I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. So bad that I had completely stopped inviting people over for fear that they would see this chair. You see, this is what happens when you don't limit where a 5 year old can eat. Why did it take me so long to figure out the logic behind only eating in the dining room? Now if only my partnern would get on board...

Well, the blue chair still looks very worn and shabby compared to its original state, but at least it isn't filthy anymore! What a relief - no more massive feelings of dirt shame (or fewer, anyway). Now I need to conquer the rest of the house. The dining room chairs are next - I just need to find a miraculous fabric that looks nice and repels every stain imaginable. I love this print called "Veronique" by Alexander Henry, but I fear it will never survive the wrath of messy little boys.

Okay, time to get back to nesting. Laundry awaits.