Or, rather, denial?

I swear I am not nesting. But I know that's what it looks like. Yesterday I did all the laundry (not that there was THAT much), the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, floors and counters, vacuumed the whole house and took down all of the garbage and sorted recyclables. That's a lot for me. Usually I am lucky to get one or two household tasks done in a day. Oh - AND I got Amaris to take a nap. Which was like a gift from above.

When I was pregnant with Amaris, I distinctly remember nesting. It was an odd sort of nesting. I cleaned and reorganized my kitchen pantry. It took me a good 2 hours. I even took pictures when I was done because I was so darned proud of my hard work. Looking at those pictures now I feel like it was really just an cleverly arranged MESS but whatever. I think maybe that is only because here I don't have as much stuff as I did when we lived in Camarillo. Which I blame on Sam's Club - I used to totally abuse that store. My pantry here is smaller and significantly less stocked. But I've already cleaned and reorganized it a couple of times in the past couple of weeks. I didn't feel like I was nesting then. I just felt like I was trying to maintain my sanity.

Last night, though, I was thoroughly exhausted when I laid down in bed. My bedroom was clean, I had witnessed Mark folding and putting away a shirt, Amaris was tucked in and [mostly] peaceful, and my kitchen wasn't a disaster. My floors were all vacuumed... It was a good feeling.

But did I really do that for me? I think I did. Not that there is any way to find out for sure at this point, but I can continue to insist that none of this was nesting, all of it was pure necessity. I'm pretty sure this is the same line of crap everyone gives when they are nesting. Which makes me feel like an idiot.