Nesting

Must…find…something…to…clean.  This week it’s been the windows inside and out as well as light fixtures.  Windows weren’t as dirty as I thought but the light fixtures went from grey to white and I took great pride in that.  It’s this darn nesting thing that’s making me all anxious about puttering, cleaning something, going shopping, preparation of any kind.

We don’t really need much for the baby considering we’ve been pretty well set up with Zizi by family and friends.  If the baby is a boy, then he might have to be snuggled in the odd pink blanket or something (not a crime here where there doesn’t seem to be any colour associations for sex).  But I still have this urge to shop.  It’s the foreigner in me.  Or “my culture” as I like to say.  Shopping is definitely something that defines western culture…it’s not normal to shop so much! I have shopping dreams sometimes where I’m in my element in some mall somewhere.  Sad.

Anyways the nesting thing has kicked in large for me this week.  Even today, we went out on our usual family Saturday outing of lunch (pretty much my excitement for the week.  Again.  Sad.) and I just wanted to go home and putter.  I felt so much better about sweeping up the back of the compound rather than dragging my family around lame kids stores.

One thing that’s really bothering me is that I can’t make any extra meals ahead of time because freezing them is a problem with all the power outages we’re having lately.  The past four years I’ve been here they’ve started rationing power (usually beginning around April and lasting through September) due to low water for the dam that generates electricity for the country.  It can be as simple as interrupted power throughout the day or as bad as no power every other day (7 am – 11 pm).  Of course, in the grand scheme, my need to nest is minor compared to businesses that can’t operate, etc. 

[As a ranting aside, the ever constant reminders that you’re life isn’t really so bad can be exhausting.  Like the other day, I stepped down off a sidewalk, missed the edge, my shoe went flying and I scuffed up my foot and twisted my ankle.  Which meant bigpregnantforeignlady in a heap, crying.  But hey! At least I had shoes to walk in, right?]

I have written a list of things I want to get done in the next few weeks some of which includes but is not limited to: wash curtains, fix lamp, pack labor bag, etc, etc.  And then I have a mental list of things that is almost too tedious to write down: scrub pots with steel wool, wash Z’s toys.  Stuff like that.  I wouldn’t exactly say I’m normally this kind of housewife but making lists and cleaning things seems to ease quite a bit of mild anxiety at the moment.  It can’t be such a bad thing.

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