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Stay Away From Suzanne!

I'm warning you to stay away from Suzanne. Even her blog smells like bleach. She's in a cleaning frenzy. Any friends who live nearby maybe they could set up an intervention. She's making all of us non-pregnant bloggers feel guilty.

That red wax mark on the wall by the boys' bedroom that taunted me for the last month? Got it. The one on the ceiling, too. My outlets and switches are streak free, and the toaster shines. I've washed walls, many walls, I still have more walls to wash. Bring 'em on. I don't even feel pregnant anymore, except that there's this thing in the way when I reach under toddler beds and try to squeeze--dust pan in hand-- behind a half pulled out fridge. There's more to be done and thought of it thrills me. I'll get some brushes and touch up paint. I'll get to those closets and unpack the last of the books. I'll winterize the back porch furniture as I've been meaning to, finish up the Christmas shopping, and baking for Thanksgiving. If you're a part of my life, chip in or get out of the way. Should you cross my path and I accidentally comb you, bleach you, or completely reorganize you, I'm sorry.
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