I think this might be nesting. You know, kicking in overdrive. But when I think of nesting, I think of a cute little birdie gathering sticks and twigs, gently weaving them into place, adding a feather or two for comfort and warmth.
What I seem to be doing is the equivalent of a rabid wildebeest trying to perform such a delicate feat with its four crazy hoof-hands. But somehow it's all working out. Take yesterday, for instance. I woke up at 2am with crazy hearburn, nausea, contractions, and the intense urge to shop for shoes on the internet. I was unable to go to sleep after that point.
How I thought the "first" dentist visit would go: screaming, flailing, gnashing of teeth, and me sitting helplessly in the corner, begging the poor dental technician to just give up because there was no way I could really calm these hopelessly frightened children down.
How it actually went: there was some trepidation, but as soon as the nice doctor came in and announced there would be balloons afterwards- they were putty in his hands. My kids will do ANYTHING for a balloon. They opened their little mouths and let him examine their teeth. (no cavities- yay!) They were the picture of cuteness! I left the office completely astounded at how wonderful they both were.
Since my girls were the best, most well behaved children on the planet, we went to the grocery store to pick up things. Food, namely. Because in that moment of having great kids, I thought that called for cooking an actual meal for dinner. Not the fast food we have been living on for the past nine months, or my other attempts at actual cookery. No. All the food groups were going to be represented. There would be side dishes. Watching Worst Cooks in America really gave me the confidence- or the interest to cook something real!
And it worked! I made pork tenderloin with orange sauce, steamed broccoli, and made brown rice the hard way! (no instant rice for me! I never knew rice took 45 mins to cook!) It was amazingly yummy. And because it tasted like "fruit," the girls gobbled it up.
After dinner, the girls ran around the house with their coveted and well-earned balloons, Logan surfed facebook, and I was in the kitchen scrubbing pans and packing the dishwasher like there was no tomorrow. I was an actual cooking housewife for a second there! Barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. And it felt good. (but will probably never happen again- I'm very tired today- did I mention I didn't get a nap in that day?)
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