Yesterday, all of the stars in the world seemed to collide and remind me how much superfluous "stuff" I have in a couple areas of life.
It's not one of those fun feelings.
Actually, no...it's really not a fun feeling.
And if you think it's a fun feeling, you can just leave.
It's one of those "I'm pretty sure I've allowed certain areas of my life to get out of control" feelings.
Which is not. what. I. want. to feel. right. now. at. this. stage. of. life.
Ironically it's hitting when our house is at one of the cleanest phases it's had in months---Michael's crate making business has now been moved into our basement, for the most part, ad our upstairs is still relatively presentable from our home inspection last week.
Our laundry is all clean, folded, and put away. I have two soup bowls and spoons in our sink as our only dirty dishes.
Supper is made in the crock pot. I have a menu plan written out for two weeks. And life is the most "under control" it's been for a while.
It's not one of those "other people might see how out of control our lives really are" feelings.
It's an intimate "I know how much stuff I have lying around that I don't even like or that has been unused for years" feelings.
As a result, Million and I may be making a few donation runs to thrift stores this week, while I have the vim and vigor.
Some might look at this and call it nesting.
I think not.
If it is nesting, then nesting is an extraordinary guilt-inducing sensation and would not be an appropriate way to prepare for motherhood, if it is instinctual preparation indeed.
On that note, here are a couple of cutesy pictures of our activities from this last week.
Actually, no...it's really not a fun feeling.
And if you think it's a fun feeling, you can just leave.
It's one of those "I'm pretty sure I've allowed certain areas of my life to get out of control" feelings.
Which is not. what. I. want. to feel. right. now. at. this. stage. of. life.
Ironically it's hitting when our house is at one of the cleanest phases it's had in months---Michael's crate making business has now been moved into our basement, for the most part, ad our upstairs is still relatively presentable from our home inspection last week.
Our laundry is all clean, folded, and put away. I have two soup bowls and spoons in our sink as our only dirty dishes.
Supper is made in the crock pot. I have a menu plan written out for two weeks. And life is the most "under control" it's been for a while.
It's not one of those "other people might see how out of control our lives really are" feelings.
It's an intimate "I know how much stuff I have lying around that I don't even like or that has been unused for years" feelings.
As a result, Million and I may be making a few donation runs to thrift stores this week, while I have the vim and vigor.
Some might look at this and call it nesting.
I think not.
If it is nesting, then nesting is an extraordinary guilt-inducing sensation and would not be an appropriate way to prepare for motherhood, if it is instinctual preparation indeed.
On that note, here are a couple of cutesy pictures of our activities from this last week.
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| We've been busy enjoying life. And getting runny noses apparently. |
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| Million helped me pick the last of our wildflowers before our first frost of the year. |
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| Auntie Helen has the coolest toys. |
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