There are many pregnancy phenomena, myths and general opinions I find fairly questionable. The old wives' tales about girl or boy ("All that sickness - it'll be a girl!"...well screw you, it's another boy), 'Baby Brain' (pretty sure my brain is just more occupied and therefore less focused), the pregnancy 'glow' (see Lesson 18 for my thoughts on this, though I could just be bitter....)
There are, however, other documented pregnancy quirks which are proving amusingly accurate. One of those is cravings (I'm crunching my way through four trays of ice cubes every day), and the other undeniable pregnancy-induced behaviour is obsessive cleaning. OBSESSIVE.
'Nesting' they call it. I fear the term is somewhat misleading. Nesting to me conjures up images of making a comfy sleep space to keep my offspring warm. Not pulling out the fridge to bleach behind it.
I guess I am nesting if the agreed objective is to disinfect the nest. Clear it of all clutter, dust, grime and odours. And leave behind the soft scents of Cif Cream (original) and Windowlene.
GOOD GOD cleaning products at the moment. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH. They smell so good. My kitchen worktops get sprayed and scrubbed at least three times a day at the moment. And that is the most ordinary of my cleaning activities.
Skirting board bleaching.
Door washing (yes all internal doors have been Cif Creamed and wiped. Mmmm Cif Cream....)
37 weeks pregnant and I keep getting asked if we are 'all set.' Well granted on paper we are - the hospital bag has been half packed, the Maxi Cosi has been dragged down through the loft hatch and I have just finished work.
But inside I'm screaming: NO!! I HAVEN'T FINISHED CLEANING.
I haven't pulled the TV stand out to dust behind it and germ-bust the floor. I can see dust. I want so badly to address the situation but the stand plus TV is too heavy for me to shift (I've tried twice). Definitely a weekend joint activity - yes, he's a lucky husband.
I haven't washed all the cushion covers yet. Clearly I can't bring new life into a house with unwashed cushion covers.
I can't let others loose on the fridge. Last pregnancy, The Husband bunged a leftover lasagne dish, slightly leaking, into the fridge. This time, boiled eggs have been left uncovered. In both instances I CRIED. Then got the Flash kitchen out.
I am not being irrational, am I? It all feels very rational. It is instinctive. I really NEED to clean.
I hope post-birth I will be able to walk down the cleaning aisle in Tesco without attempting to sniff how citrus fresh the products are. In the meantime, you can leave me to my Cif, Flash and Cillit Bang, and try not to worry too much that Barry Scott's declaration of 'Bang! And the dirt is gone!' continues to be my biggest turn on.
Lesson 25 : at times enjoyable, at other times worryingly all-consuming, nesting is some serious shit. Be prepared.