Nesting...I AM.

Pregnancies with my girls can coax out the obsessive compulsive in me. With Grace, I had the constant fear that something was turned on when leaving the house: the stove, the clothing iron, the curling iron, etc. Feeling the constant urge to check if my worries were founded. With Faith, I have seen my compulsions manifest in new ways:

I was excited to use my newly created kitchen inventory sheets (all four pages) last Wednesday at the grocery store. All was going well, until I noticed that I could be even more efficient if I coordinated the order of items on my inventory sheets with the aisle numbers in the store. In this way, if Ken ever had to go shopping for me, I would be able to hand him a map to the store that he could essentially follow and pull checked items off the shelf along the way. Sickly obsessive, I know. But I was already so close with my original order, that I found myself going down all of the aisles marking where each section on my inventory sheets could be located, and then coming home after a very long day and reorganizing the Excel spreadsheet. It doesn't stop at the inventory sheets.

I'm beyond nesting. I'm BURROWING.
After tackling my kitchen cupboards, I moved on to the boxes and boxes of medicines in our house - placing in labelled freezer bags various types of medicines. I had my "General Pain" bag, "First Aid" bag, "Stomach Problems" bag, "Cold & Flu" bag, "Childrens Medicine" bag, and the list goes on.

After tackling medicine, it was off to the children's room to winterize them, and reassess storage of their clothing and shoes. With shoes, I couldn't just pack up the shoes. No, that would be too easy. I felt the need to WASH all 40+ pairs of shoes we've gathered since the day they could first walk, and then sort them in small bins according to size. OCD fully in operation. Grace is now complete, and I am waiting for my winter order from The Children's Place for Jack, so that I can winterize him next.

The good news is this type of behavior happens only during pregnancies, and the results gain me one highly organized house. The bad news is my pelvis is paying dearly for this type of activity, but burrow I must. With the decision to go birth control free from here on out...this could either be the remaining few months of organization in the next 10 years of my life, or the start of a continuous cycle of OCD behavior.

BURROW...BURROW...BURROW.