Up until two weeks ago “nesting” meant spending as much time as possible with Hazel. We spent many, many days at the zoo, the library, the park, the pool, the beach, and anywhere else. I delighted in the fact that she wanted to go to these places, skip down the sidewalks, hold my hand, and practice jumping with me. I will have no regrets about not spending time alone with her.
The past couple weeks the nesting instinct has really gotten a hold of me. I washed the floors in our house twice last week, and I just about had a heart attack when I found dust in our living room yesterday. Nesting is just crazy. Why in the world do we feel like we will be the worst mother if the laundry isn’t done and there are dust bunnies behind the fridge? I know in a matter of days I wont care, and the baby certainly wont care either.