Seestar

My sister came home for a long summer visit (is it still home if she calls 'there' home, too?).   She's a pretty bad-ass lady and I love her dearly.  Shortly after her arrival, she broke her arm.  I'm under a vow of secrecy, but there may have been arm-wrestling?  and a grizzly bear? with a moose for a moderator?  *shhhh, don't tell!

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And so we made a pretty bad-ass team.  The cripple and the pregnant lady.  Third trimester, no less.  And so we did the most rational thing imaginable.  We worked on construction projects!  She with one hand, me and baby: skill saws, drills, hangers, shelves and more shelves! 

Pantry Shelves : There's a place for things now!  No digging through ridiculous messy piles in cabinets to fish out the toaster, no more inaccessible blenders!

Pantry Shelves : There's a place for things now!  No digging through ridiculous messy piles in cabinets to fish out the toaster, no more inaccessible blenders!

Media Shelves.  We have a VCR as well as a DVD player, and the Transfer Sites have been very very good to us over the years.  We have a zillion and 12 movies (a great thing when the internet and the 21st century have yet to reach one's house!) that are no longer in teetering stacks that kittens and huskies can knock over.

Media Shelves.  We have a VCR as well as a DVD player, and the Transfer Sites have been very very good to us over the years.  We have a zillion and 12 movies (a great thing when the internet and the 21st century have yet to reach one's house!) that are no longer in teetering stacks that kittens and huskies can knock over.

And we spent plenty of time in the kitchen.  I don't know anyone else in my life who breaks her arm and then proceeds to bake (and frost!) a few dozen gourmet cupcakes and a large pan of lemon bars singlehandedly.  'Cause that happened.  And it my baby shower absolutely delicious.

Blueberry muffins for breakfast.  Clearly necessary.  Twice as often. #wildakblueberry

Blueberry muffins for breakfast.  Clearly necessary.  Twice as often. #wildakblueberry

Sister visits are always lovely.  There is talk of dreams and plans and science fiction and fantasy novels and art and life design.  There is so much companionable time in the kitchen.  There are late nights and mornings that begin at noon.  

This time we talked about language learning and early childhood development, how to simulate immersion learning when the parent isn't fluent in a foreign language.  We talked about baby blankets and wall murals.  About tree forts and onesies. 

We had river walks and husky cuddles.

Borscht.  Garden beets.  Cheesy scones with garden chives and garden parsley.

Borscht.  Garden beets.  Cheesy scones with garden chives and garden parsley.

I was sad to see her go.  But oh so glad she's coming home over winter break!  Neicphew visits!

I'm so excited for my kids to know their Tia Rhi.

Hashtag Extreme Nesting

Today I built shelves.  A few days ago I was ripping out carpeting.  It seems that my pregnancy nesting process as I enter the third trimester entails a whole lot more power tools, hammers and trips to Lowes than it does adorably tiny baby clothes.  I mean, I've got a pile or three of teensy onesies, and a handful of a few large bags full of slightly larger adorable clothing for this child that just need to be re-folded and sorted by size.  Its not like I'm immune to the charm of the tiny clothing.

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But man, the siren call of shelving!  As a child I always thought the "a place for everything and everything in its place" motto was laughable.  Increasingly, I like the idea.  Especially as I embrace the lifestyle changes that I hope and expect this child to bring with it: fewer long days in town, fewer days in town at all, more time on the homestead, more homebaked bread; I find myself less and less tolerant of the general malaise of spreading stuff that two adults –packrats at that!- living in a too-large house are prone to create.

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It’s all a metaphor, really.  Symbolic.  The renovation and interior design work that preoccupies my mind of late is a way of making physical the spiritual and emotional and energetic process of this pregnancy.  Of making space for baby.  Of dreaming forth the mom I want to be, the woman I want to be.  As I embrace this shift, I realize more and more just how much I've told certain dreams to wait, just how many aspects of myself I've tucked away for later.  And their time is now. The baby's time is now.  And baby deserves a space to live in that will nurture baby's growth, that will nurture baby's parents so that, as parents, we can do our best by baby.

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And so my nesting process entails skill saws and screws as well as shuttles and yarn.  It means undertaking renovations both major and minor to create functioning systems in this home of ours.