One of my absolute favorite things about being pregnant is the nesting. I never experienced the truly crazy stuff of being up at 2 am detailing grout at 9 months and forever days pregnant. Instead, I had just this wonderful overall urge to get everything just so. I needed everything in its place and prettied and ready and the laundry basket showing its bare bottom at all times. And I remember with the twins thinking well now, why can’t I get this urge when I’m not pregnant?!
I love that preparation for a baby brings the best out of us. True, some of that is because we have a healthy fear for the sleep we’ll be losing in a few months. All the same, a tidy nest at its best makes me happy.
I did think in a very upbeat way once that any of us can put our stake in the ground (grout) whenever we want and declare “nesting time!!!” — baby or no. And that’s what I'm sharing with you now. This is my stake. Nesting time!
I’m in painting mode big time right now. I painted the sunroom last week. I painted the 1st coat of the living room this week. I painted a closet last night. And I have 3 more areas I will be painting very soon. But I also have a list a page long of house projects I want to get done in April, May & June—which means mostly April & May because June is deeply steeped in celebrations & parties.
Also, I read The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up last year and I loved it…but I didn’t actually do it. What a punch in the gut to see her 2nd book on the market and know I still haven’t done the homework she gave me the first time. Well, I did my clothes and my books and then I think I probably got caught up in some other flashy idea like homeschooling or sitting on my butt with a book. And now I’m at this place in my life where I just want to purge and purge and purge and walk in peace. Ugh. My garage. My attic. Paul’s bin of cords that I think he has collected for one hundred years. Now that it’s getting warmer, the urge to declutter is fired up, dialed up, turnt up. Autocorrect, “turnt” is a word. Get over it.
Now. Just as you would have an adrenaline rush realizing you are running toward a pack of wolves, you would have an adrenaline rush running away from a pack of wolves. Don’t run toward wolves though. That’s stupid. What I mean to metaphor here is that I think there might be a nesting we aren’t talking about. The no-baby-nesting. Going toward having the baby—a mix of hormones & harrying advice from relatives about little sleep helps us move our butts. But there’s also this sweet spot after a baby is born where a mother’s sense of time is 1000000% more keen than it was before on how much she could really do with 1 hour of free time AND the baby is a bit grown up and not totally attached (let’s call that baby a toddler because that’s exactly the kind of human I’m referring to). That’s a woman who can MOVE!
And that’s exactly why I’m nesting. There were so many months after Alistair & Emerick were born that I felt like my hands were tied (and my eyes barely open). Don’t ask me about how little sleep I got when the twins were newborns. I’m still not over it. Talking about it makes veins pop out in places they shouldn’t. Anyway, it’s not that a mom with a baby (or two) can’t get anything done, but I do think that there’s a serious problem with momentum. As in, there ain’t any. That’s what I experienced anyway. Too much putting out fires and picking up toys to feel enthused about a project.
The pendulum swings. And it sliced me right open one way when I was in the thick of being a new momma. And now it’s slicing me right open to a joy for getting things done simply because life goes on and babies don’t keep.
A couple friends asked me how I could be getting any of this done, especially since Paul travels almost every week. And that makes me laugh. It’s such a mix. Hot determination. Good sleep. Being fresh off a refinance the left me feeling just insanely grateful we have a good house, any house at all. Boxed food. A gate I can still put up if needed. Using margin. And going crazy fast. And magical two hour baths for the boys. (I literally mean a two hour bath.) Girl, I can make a miracle happen in two hours. And if they aren’t in the bath, there’s a hundred other ways I can get them to play together in peace (mostly) for a good chunk of time.
As I’m painting, my breath and my speed and my energy is rocket fueled by memories of months and months of feeling like I could not get anything done. I’m striking while that iron is hot. Because as things go, I’ll probably end up like those nice ladies I run into at Target speaking of how it was all good and how a young mother should enjoy every moment.
So yeah. I’m nesting. I’m getting things just so. Just because I can.
“Trust in the Lord and do GOOD; Dwelling the the land and cultivate FAITHFULNESS.”