So today was Labor day. Not MY labor day, though. Instead of breathing through contractions, I put Kenny and myself to work. Fober needs a clean front porch before he comes home. And one that is seasonal. So…out with the old, summery flowers, and in with the new autumnal ones. Afterall, Fober demands it.

I really can’t explain it, but the whole “nesting instinct” has overcome me. So I’ll let an internet search describe this phenomenom for me:

The Nesting Instinct
Many pregnant women experience the nesting instinct, a powerful urge to prepare their home for the baby by cleaning and decorating. Or perhaps you'll want to tackle projects you haven't had time to do, like organizing your garage or closets.

As your due date draws closer, you may find yourself cleaning cupboards or washing walls - things you never would have imagined doing in your ninth month of pregnancy! This desire to prepare your home can be useful because it will give you more time to recover and nurture your baby after the birth.

Unfortunately, I’m too slow and round to be able to do much of what I really, really want to do. So, I’ve tired Kenny out on his day off of work by making him move things from the front porch, into the garage, from the garage into the yard, and from the first floor all the way to the basement. All I did was put some already-potted mums into the window boxes that he just cleaned out for me. Oh, and swept a few leaves off the front porch.

I’ve spent the last two weeks preparing the second floor for Fober’s arrival. Or at least ordering Kenny around with directions on how to make the house perfect for Fober’s arrival. “We” moved Rowan’s new crib and toys, books, and clothes into the guestroom. Then Rowan moved into it last weekend. “We” cleaned out the nursery and prepared it for an infant to sleep in once again – a clean set of sheets on the crib, freshly folded blankets and burp cloths in baskets right next to the glider for nighttime nursing sessions, and all his little tiny newborn clothes hung nicely in the closet or folded into his dresser drawers. Okay, I did all the clothes and organizing of baskets…because that’s what women do.

I’ve also been straightening and organizing the living room, dining room, and kitchen on a daily basis just in case Fober decides to come overnight. The fact that I haven’t vacuumed the dining room in over a week is beginning to grate on my nerves.

Fober needs the house to be orderly for his arrival. Otherwise, he might just demand to be put back inside of me, or be given to another family who actually files their recipes in notebooks, alphabetically. I hope he doesn’t notice that my recipes aren’t ordered. I hope he’s the kind of baby who notices things like potted purple mums and folded baby blankets right next to his feeding station.

So since the porch is autumnally (an Emilyword) prepared, this baby is ready to come as soon as tonight. Except for the fact that Kenny still needs to move the double stroller into the back of our van, bring the baby-swing up from the basement, take down a bin of clothes that Fober won't fit into until at least January, fix the mobile for the crib, and raise the crib mattress to the highest setting. After he does that, I’m sure I’ll just sit and twiddle my thumbs until that first contraction hits. Or until I undoubtedly find something else that Fober wants to be done before he's born.