A New Word for "Nesting"

It's after 11 pm here and I've just finished steam-cleaning my living room carpet.

Why? Because I'm "nesting." Ugh.

For anyone who is unfamiliar with that term, it's defined by Pregnancy Weekly as "an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world."

In my eyes, however, it's more like "a list of chores I do because I'm expecting company for like two weeks solid and my carpet, among other things, looks like ass."

Chalk it up to late (late, late) pregnancy crankiness, but the mere sound of the word "nesting" irritates me. You wanna know why? Because when I picture a pregnant woman nesting, I picture a clean, glowing, adorably-dressed lady with an equally adorable "bump," in a spotless, well-appointed nursery, folding teeny-tiny pajamas with a dreamy smile on her face. Nesting. It's such a froofy word.

(And yes, I realize that you probably won't find "froofy" in the dictionary.)

Here's what MY version of nesting looks like: frizzy, matted-with-sweat hair. Huge awkward stomach hanging over the waistband of the only pair of pants I can still comfortably wear. The stench of B.O. (my own ... gross) and bleach and various cleaners. Lots of colorful language (okay, the F-bomb) as I scrub things, spill things, and try-but-fail to reach into crevices I've never cleaned before. Huffing and puffing like a 450-pound man trying to run a marathon. Yelling at my kids to "stay out of here, I've just cleaned!" Finding half-eaten pieces of string cheese in strange places.

There's nothing cute about any of that.

I need to invent a new word for "nesting."