Proof of Pregnancy (3)

The nesting has commenced. Not only have we started the great migration (shuffling beds and furniture from here to there), but I have become a purging machine. A machine, I tell you. Nothing shall escape me, no matter the amount of dust it kicks up, the sentiment it stirs, the potential it once held. Nothing should feel safe.

I've started purging the boy's room of all manner of flotsam and jetsam. Toys, trash, old books, old homework, parts of science experiments, rumpled up lego blueprints, all of it is out of here (or will be soon). And we've begun purging the "Man Cave" of it's (what we shall lovingly refer to as) shit. ToxDrop, here we come. Trash men, be ready. It all must go. And as if that wasn't enough (and believe me, it is,) I've been purging my studio right along with everything else.

We must find room for all the fabulous stuff I bought at IKEA this week. And buy I did. A loft, a mattress, a recliner, a shelving unit, bedding, toy bins, and a lot of random little goodies. (Apologies to my sister who graciously rode for 2 1/2 hours with her knees under her chin and tried to convince me it was actually quite comfortable. I know. I have the most incredible sister ever.) Once the purge-a-thon is over, we will have to start assembling said furniture. I swear my kid is going to have the coolest room on the block. But until then, I would recommend keeping your valuables behind closed doors.