Nesting

I have decided that Sunday is my laundry day. Well, I didn't really decide - it has just happened that way since we moved. I have never done all my laundry on one day before but now I guess I do. And this Sunday was definitely laundry day. 4 loads when it was all said and done. It was also a baking day. I baked a total of 16 dozen cookies. 8 dozen of which were from-scratch-M&M-cookies but all for the returning single soldiers' barracks. When the boys were napping, and the laundry machines were going, I took on the garage. The insane, horrible disorganization that was the remainder of a very badly packed move. And I did it. I opened every box. I sorted, I tossed, I put aside donations, I marked items for a garage sale, I unpacked and consolidated, unwrapped and put away. I lifted a very large, very heavy, seven-foot, artificial Christmas tree onto a very high storage shelf and didn't get injured in the process. I broke down boxes; I sorted packing paper to be recycled. I finally found my bathroom rugs in a box labeled "Candles". 


I started to pin a potential slipcover.


I finished painting the garage-sale-find-dresser for the boys room and went out to set up the pool for my boys. I pruned my flowers and made an arrangement with the fresh cuts. I cooked dinner and then we headed to LOWE'S. 


I bought more paint : ) ... and tape, and rollers, and brushes ... 


And - get this - I did it without any coffee.


I guess you could say I'm nesting. The week before Eli was born, I was on my hands and knees scrubbing grout lines with a cleaner and a toothbrush until C insisted he take over. I didn't nest with Logan. It's hard to nest when you aren't allowed out of bed. But I am most certainly nesting now.

I want things to be perfect. For the house to be done. For it all to be put away. For every little thing to be put in place. Perfect. Because I want things to be "home" when he walks through this door.

And then it hit me. It will be perfect - no matter what I do and don't finish - it will be perfect. Because he will walk through the door. And all the rest will follow.

I can slow down.

Because we will build a home as we go. And if I don't paint the rest before, he'll paint with me - because he knows how much it means to me. If I don't finish my slipcover before he walks through that door I will while he takes our boys to the park or brings them to look at the tanks around post. I don't have to decide which fabric to make curtains out of right now because I can ask him his opinion in just a few days. (Which he will roll his eyes at).

These things can wait.

But again, I'm nesting.

And C did have to physically take that toothbrush out of hand and pull me up off the bathroom floor the last time.

It can wait. Really. But then again ...

Where's that blue painter's tape? I may just start taping off the trim in my room ...