My nesting instinct is out of control. What's my evidence? I've always taken pride in home and hearth, but my to-do list is bubbling over, and my domestic activities have fallen outside of the normal realm of tasks.
To wit:
1) Over the weekend, the family and I went to Lowes to pick up a variety of annuals to plant in the flower boxes on my deck. Am I an earthy person? Nope. It's not like I have a black thumb or anything like that, but pressing plants into pots has never really been my thing. But there I was, smooshing little purple and pink plants into black soil.
2) Two nights ago, I dreamed about a lock on our sliding glass door that hasn't worked since we started hanging our hats in our lovely little townhome. Well, it worked long enough not to be included in the "seller must make these repairs" list when we bought the place. Anyway, when we found the lock was more of a non-lock, Hubby and I jury-rigged a solution (also known as a fireplace poker lodged in the base of the stationary part of the door), and that has sufficiently kept prowlers at bay. So it wasn't exactly paramount that I solve this not-really-a-problem. And locks do not often take center stage in my theater of dreams. But there I was, in a semi-conscious state, thinking, "I bet if I just took a look at the locking mechanism, I could figure this out."
Sure enough, the next day, all I needed was a Philips head screwdriver to loosen and reposition the catch, and VOILA! A functional lock. We'll still use the good ol' iron bar, of course, but there's something reassuring about a lock that, well, locks.
3) For my birthday, which is in a scant few days, I have requested gift cards to various home improvement stores so that I might procure some of the items after which I've been lusting: roman shades for the living room, room darkening shades for the little ones' rooms, and, if I really score huge, new bathroom sinks and/or fixtures. But this isn't the limit to what I want to do to my home. Here's a sampling of what I'd like to do to prettify (or at least update from 1979, when the original everything was installed):
- Paint the master and guest bathrooms, and the downstairs rec room and hallway.
- Rearrange the furniture in the rec room so that the Boy can run his little legs off without running into sharp wooden furniture.
- Add a border to the walls in the master bedroom.
- Install new floors in the kitchen, foyer hallway, powder room, and both upstairs bathrooms.
- Refinish the hardwood floors in the dining room.
- Re-paint (maybe even replace) the handrails and guardrails on the steps to the bedrooms.
- Install new light fixtures for the kitchen and the dining room.
- Install sconces in the dining room.
- Pick up some ART for crying out loud, for the big blank walls in the kitchen, dining room, and basement.
- Install a chair rail in the dining room to set it slightly apart from the conjoined living room.
- Install a new front door, one that lets a little light into the hallway.
- Install new kitchen counters.
- Paint the door to the basement to wipe out the scrapes from some of the Boys' dolls' heads (this was during his "knock on the door with whatever's in your hand" phase).
- Shave down the width of the door to the storage space under the stairs in the basement so it shuts all the way.
- Purchase bins that fit on our built-in bookshelves where we can subtly store the Boy's sundry toys.
- Replace the door knobs on all of the interior doors.
- Deep clean and, if necessary, replace the grotty tile and shower door frame in the master bathroom.
- Oh, and I want to install the last little pull knob in our kitchen.
THIS IS NOT A NORMAL AMOUNT OF TASKS TO CARRY AROUND IN YOUR HEAD. The irony is that I can't really DO most of this myself because pregnant women should not mess around with, oh, let's see: paint fumes, heavy lifting, plumbing, bacteria nests, and electricity. Among others. And I can't really ask Hubby to do this stuff either. It would cost us thousands to hire contractors to do it. So, the likelihood that most (if not all) of this stuff will be completed is, oh, I don't know, nil.
You'll note that all of the sentences in that last paragraph started with "I want," and not "I need." As a self-actualized, mature human being, I recognize that there is a slight priority difference between, say, cute new doorknobs and groceries. So I'll bide my time. But I warn you, I can't even watch HGTV without the green-eyed monster invading my sensibilities. Candice Olson, feel free to ring me up and invade my house ANY DAY.
4) At last count, I've spent three hours trolling websites looking for the perfect bathroom sinks. I like vanity sinks, the kind that have cabinets underneath, because storage is a premium for me. And when I say "storage" I mean real, honest-to-God storage. Not wicker baskets posing as storage. Baskets should be used to transport things, not house them.
5) I'm twitchy unless we have a stocked fridge and pantry. Like there's a chance we'll be housebound in July or something...
So, yeah, I think the nesting instinct has kicked in. Just a little.
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