Hobson's Choice
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Lists
I've been making lists. The state of the house, after three weeks of enforced bedrest for this injured leg, is slowly driving me mad. Chris has been doing a fabulous job of, well, doing all the jobs around here: he's been wage-earner, caregiver, preschool entertainer, dog walker, errand-runner -- including taking the cat to the vet for kidney stones. And oh, yes, he served as a line to reality from my bedrest/period/pain/clomid/migraine-induced freakout on Saturday evening.
But there's only so much one person can do, and the house is suffering. It was already suffering before I fell down the steps. It was eagerly awaiting tbe spring cleaning.
So I started making a list tonight of all the things I needed to do once I'm entirely back on my feet.
And that reminded me of the time shortly before Eleanor was born, a cautionary tale about list-making. For the week that I was on bedrest (without cable television -- a true act of heroism, believe me... although not as heroic as breastfeeing a premie for 16 hours a day without cable tv. We remedied that one pretty damn quick. There are only so many times you can watch _Reading Rainbow_ in your 29th year of life).
Anyway, while lying on the couch for a week in July 2002, I started making lists of all the things that I wanted to get done after I was released from bedrest. I made a list of the casseroles I wanted to make and freeze before the baby came. There was a list of Christmas presents I needed to make, a list about washing the baby's clothes, a list about any remaining baby-related shopping that needed to be done. I remember a list that detailed exactly how each room in the house needed to be cleaned before it would be pristine enough for a baby to arrive. I made lists for work with a timeline. I now understand that, since my body was in fact threatening to go into full-on labor at any minute, I was "nesting" while I was making all those lists. Lists are how you nest when you're not supposed to get out of bed. I think I went through an entire legal pad, making and revising my lists.
Here's the moral of the story now. I was released from bedrest after a week. After the ultrasound, I went grocery shopping, cooked three or four great dishes for the weekend, and cleaned the house. I even scrubbed the little gross corners on the kitchen linoleum. More nesting (in retrospect).
As we sat down to supper that evening, I went into serious labor. Eleanor arrived three days later.
I didn't do one thing on those lists myself.
So you can understand why I'm just the eensiest bit worried about the house-cleaning list I made today. Let us all pray, children, that I shall not wake up tomorrow morning with an ankle swollen to the size of Mars.
9:34 p.m. - 2006-04-24
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