The weekend I decided we could do 142 projects in 48 hrs, and throw a birthday party.

I'm going to blame it on pregnancy hormones.  It occurred to me at approximately 11:30 on Saturday morning that we might not have enough time/energy/capable people (since I only count as maybe 1/2 a capable person on a good day) to complete what we have planned.
As of right now I have a wallpaper removal steamer that I cannot lift, yet alone use heating up in the bathtub, one giant willow tree chopped in pieces covering the backyard, and one more that is half way there, a birthday party to prepare for, fairy wings to sew for said birthday party, a little girl's bedroom I promised to paint by a birthday (hence the wallpaper steamer), and counter tops and a back splash that need to be removed so that the new shiny, not covered in three colors of paint, counters can be installed on my daughter's actual birthday.  And did I mention I really want to get started on the nursery?
And I'm strangely happy about all of it.
And people act like pregnancy hormones are a bad thing.