If you give a mom a chore, she’ll likely find three other things to be done before it.

If the corner of her room has to be cleared to make room for baby’s changing table, she’ll first vacuum the floor. She’ll move the bed to get under there. If she moves the bed, she’ll see the mangled metal blind she’s been meaning to put back in its bent brackets. Before she can replace the blind, she’ll need to wash the windows behind it. If she’s washing the windows, she’ll need to pull out the screens that need to be replaced. Saving the screens for another day, she uses the ball of clean sheets waiting on the side chair to change the bed – after she hangs the kids’ clothing that’s been waiting on top of the sheets. Chair clear, she turns to the writing desk she’ll eventually need to move as well. The desk itself will need to be dismantled and saved for another day, but first she’ll need to sort through and separate the absolutely essential papers and supplies, putting them in the smaller cart nearby. She needs to do that before the cart can be moved to a new corner in the dining room. To move the cart, she’ll have to move the tray table holding the sewing machine. Before she puts away the sewing machine, she’ll need to mend the fastener on the tankini top that won’t fit her right now anyway – and make that roman shade for which she’s been saving that fabric. When she moves the typewriter table and its antique occupant, she’ll have to clean the window behind that, too, adding its screen to her pile of replacements.

Are you as exhausted as I am just thinking about all this?

This is the way my anal-retentive, procedural, obsessive, perfectionist, over-achieving mind works. As I described an abbreviated version of this undertaking to a friend, she said I sounded liked the main character in If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. We both burst out laughing, as it was the perfect description. I am the mouse. Coo coo ca choo. Or something like that.

Though the mouse has a much more fun trajectory.

Do all these chores need to be completed before the simple placement of a changing table? No. But, in my mind, do I feel that they all need to be? Yes. Is it a chance to complete tasks long overdue? Yes. Is there a modicum of guilt and desire for redemption in finally completing them? Yes. Do I see the arrival of baby as a waypoint closing a window of opportunity at this point in my life? Yes. Is this a completely arbitrary creation of my mind? Yes.

A rational working through of it may help me realize the origin of such mouse mayhem, but the animal instinct driving it remains. I. still. need. to. follow. protocol. Whatever need for self-preservation I have – and physical exhaustion that comes with pregnancy – does keep me from manically pushing through the entire process at once. Well, that and three children, a husband, and a house to run.

But I’ve started the process. It’s well on its way – thank goodness – which means it’s almost done. Well, hopefully.

Hopefully, there’s also a cookie for me at the end of this trail.