Nesting

    When I was pregnant with my first child, I attended a prenatal class with my husband at the hospital.  Kim, the nurse educator and later friend, began to explain the signs for the husband to watch to predict an impending labor.  She explained that the soon-to-be-mom will begin to nest.  She will clean the tile with a toothbrush, fold baby clothes and sort them by color, and other orderly activities in preparation for the baby's arrival. 
  My hubby raised his hand and honestly asked, "What if our wife already does those things on a regular basis?"  In the end, Scott didn't need to watch for warning signs as my delivery arrived five weeks early when my water broke expectantly.
   As I prepare for yet another surgery, I nest.  Yes, I have had enough surgery in the past 18 months that I skipped the dusting coining it good enough to last two weeks.  But, yes, I vacuumed and mopped.  I will not be able to do these things for a month so I had to do them well enough to last.  Of course, the irony always lies in the fact that my dear son is always first to soil a fleshly mopped floor.  Like a good boy, he removed his shoes when coming inside from the backyard and the floor was still wet.  Yes, he tip-toed across to the bathroom in his bare feet, very dirty, wore sandals all day, bare feet.  And, the funny thing is that I left these little muddy prints on my kitchen floor.  They make me smile.  Maybe this slightly OC housewife is growing up a bit.
  So here we are on the night before my laparoscopic appendectomy.  My house is cleaned and mostly organized, the bags are packed, the scheduled outlined, and the magazines set out by the couch.  I think I am ready.  My colon is all clean, and I have new blade in my razor for a fresh shave in the am.  I will sip one more Vitamin Water and take my regular morning pills before the mid-night absolute fast, not even water.  And, the last thing I have to do, as it has become a ritual, is to paint my toes with a fresh lacquer of pearly lavender.  Hey, if I am going to lay in my birthday suite, at least I have something on my toes.
   Yes, I nest.  There is something quite sane about order.  There is a distraction in the action and comfort in the clean.  Good night as I rush out as I just remembered I forgot to pack my advanced directive and charge my i-pod.