delayed nesting? going stir crazy? maybe just going crazy? yes.

Brad realized today that he made a very big mistake. When I told him I was lonely without him during the day, he suggested I try to get the house the way I want it. I replied with, "Are you sure you want me to do that?" He nodded, obviously not remembering the kind of "clean" that I like.

(*Disclaimer: My husband doesn't normally tell me to "busy myself" with cleaning, however, it's been way too cold to take Noah out anywhere, and I don't want to go to the mall, because I'm not masochistic enough to look at all the pretty things that I can't afford.*)

I then proceeded to engage in the same kind of insanity that my mom has when she cleans. We don't just do your normal style dusting, vacuuming, the occasional wiping-down-of-the-baseboards.

When we organize, we take the house down. My office looked like it had blown up, spilling out into the loft area, complete with Christmas boxes, bows, candles, printers, picture frames, my husband's brain scan...

yes. we apparantly, are the world's worst packrats.

You could totally tell I'd been pregnant last summer just by looking in our pantry. Everything had expired in June, July, or August of '09. This was when I was doing well to stand on the swollen cankles I'd managed to get. I was obviously not really concerned if the organic cardboard crackers I'd bought had expired (during my initial excitement of being prego, I'd decided I was going to only eat healthy organic food so my baby would be a totally organic baby. Yeah. That was until said baby decided he wanted cupcakes, with LOTS of icing... and NOT the organic kind).

Like I was saying, I have definitely inherited my mother's crazy cleaning gene. After we've disassembled, thrown out worthless junk, reorganized, and seem to be somewhat finished... oh no... we're just getting started.

This is when the flashlight comes out. Because how else are you supposed to see the spiderwebs that have formed underneath your bed? You can't see webs in the dark. And this is when our husbands have decided we're nuts, as they walk into the room with our rear ends hanging out from underneath the bed, flashlight in one hand, vacuum hose in the other.

And guess what. It doesn't stop there. Suddenly, we realize that those shelves need to be hung. That shower rod that we've been asking our husband to put up for the last month or so? It has to be done today.

It was at this point, as he was finally taking down the garland from our porch, that Brad realized he had totally stuck his foot in his mouth and will never suggest I clean for fun ever again.

Even so, I've never been happier with the way our kitchen looks. It's spotless and organized and gorgeous.

Now on to the rest of the house...