Some good clean fun?

             Normally, this is one of my life mottos:

This weekend, I went on an absolute rampage, and I was all like this:

 I cleaned my house from top to bottom. I have never had the nesting thing happen while I was pregnant; I mostly tried to do as little as possible in the past. This time, I can't clean enough. I think it was a combination of the fact that spring break was ending, my kids needed summer clothes out, and I have never cleaned before in my life. In other news, one of the most dangerous features of The Money Pit was our front stairs. They were most likely the original wood stairs, leading up to the sun porch, and they were barely hanging on. It was like playing Russian Roulette every day, to see who would actually fall through. Since most of the time I'm not only carrying a baby in my tum but also in my arms, Mr. Wonderful decided that this particular Saturday would be the one that he designed and built new stairs. 
          I had to show the bastard up. I actually wanted to head to the shore house, and plant my ass and my kids in the sand, but I woke up on Saturday with a burning desire to clean the kitchen. After going to my first ever soccer clinic with Princess Particular- (definitely more on that another time, because it was hilarious) I scrubbed every inch of it, even under the coffee maker. I cleaned the spice rack. I cleaned the dish rack. I found an avocado pit in between the stove and washer, and I climbed on top of the washer to scrub the top of the fridge. How did so much crap get up there? Mr. Wonderful is the only one who can see the top! 

Now I realized I was a woman obsessed. I knew that the hormones have taken over, and I was nesting. 

                           
                After the first floor was spotless, I went to check on the progress of Mr. Wonderful and Uncle Gay. (Our completely heterosexual friend helping Mr. Wonderful- this is the name given to him by Princess Particular when she was learning how to talk) They had taken down the stairs and I saw a huge hole under the porch, leading what inevitably was the giant groundhog colony that has been living rent free and pooping under my porch since God knows when. Cool, how do we kill them? No, no, we love animals around here, so for now the groundhogs stay. I will however, be forwarding them their new lease. The guys disappeared to Home Depot for a few hours, and I tackled more of the house. 
              My darling girls share a room, and it is a princess freakin wonderland. One benefit of having two girls is that I only have to buy one wardrobe for the most part. I have buckets and buckets of clothes from Princess Particular that Squeakers can utilize, and after hours and hours of sorting, separating into sell, keep and give away piles, I had two summer wardrobes out, clean and put away, and also clothes on standby for all three girls for the fall, including our newest addition. I have never been so prepared for anything in my entire life. By this time, I know the wrecking crew is back and has had a few beers, so I figured that plus power tools warranted a check up. They were diligently hammering and leveling the stringers and insert construction words here.  I ran to the store to grab some dinner to feed these poor guys, and by the time we got back, we had stairs. We all took turns dancing up and down them, and while standing in the street, Uncle Gay looked in awe at our new, non wobbly dangerous stairs and exclaimed, "They look f*cking professional." Yes. Yes they do. 




Only 4,829 projects to go until The Money Pit is complete. At least it's sparkling clean. Yesssss.