Monday, February 2, 2015

Nesting. It's kind of a sickness.

So this weekend I had my first real surge of "nesting". I said this to Matt who demanded to know how that differs from every other day of my life and I refused to acknowledge that.

Mostly because he's right, and we can't let him think I'm slipping.

But the other day I got to wondering where my boxes of things I kept from Olivia and Jackson's first few days home. I could mentally picture the boxes- hers was pink and his had stripes and a green top. And I know I wouldn't have misplaced them, I'm pretty diligent. So I looked in my closet.

Not there.

Weird.

So I looked through my scrapbook stuff.

Not there.

I went to the basement and may or may not have tore the place up.

Not there.

I won't say panic set in, but it was pretty close. But then. THEN I remembered that when we moved in there was a weird, random box I didn't unpack because it wasn't dire and I put it way in the back of the closet in my office/scrapbook room under the stairs.

And I was right. Conveniently labeled "baby keepsakes". I kind of am a genius.
And when I opened the box, I found two boxes I was originally looking for AND I found my photographer's album from our wedding, a random plate with our wedding date on it and the stand, and a picture from my elementary school baton days, not sure why I even have that as it was on the wall at my mom's house.

But then I figured it was probably something the kids dragged home. Every time they go to my parent's house, they bring random things from there like little hoarders.

The important thing was these boxes. And then I absolutely had to open them up.
I mean, I'm nothing if not thorough.
Olivia's box had a LOT more stuff in it. I had her coming home outfit, which was Classic Winnie the Pooh theme (like her nursery) and it said, "Are you friendly, little bees?" on the top. I had her first rattle, which was a Piglet one. Her first winter hat and mittens, her hospital hat and bracelets (and mine). Her ultrasounds, first footprint, random pictures, a sweater and matching hat Matt's grandma had made her, her first birthday candle, her first pacifier and her first pair of teeny tiny yellow duck socks. Oh, and the Dr. Seuss book I was originally on the hunt for. More on that tomorrow.
Jackson's didn't have as much stuff but then he was a far easier baby and didn't require a pacifier or rattle and the like to keep him happy. He just wanted snuggles and food. Which, coincidentally, is very much like he is now. But his box included his coming home outfit, also a Classic Pooh ensemble because his nursery was the exact same as Olivia's. His hospital hat and bracelets (and mine), pictures, a sweater Matt's grandma made him. The little sign Olivia insisted we buy for his door. And the blue sweater someone from Matt's family's church made him that he wore until he was 3 (I'm not kidding- that was the miracle sweater that stretched!!). The best part is not only did it have his name on it (though I would have preferred it to say "Jackson" and I get pissy when people call him Jack because that is not his name.), it zipped in the back AND  the zipper started at the top of his hood. Basically made it the easiest sweater in the world for a little boy who liked to run. I could zip one handed and run with him.

I so wish I could remember who made this for him because I would love a sweater like that for Penelope. Seriously. He couldn't wear this until he was about 6 months old, and it was a bit big, but it was the best thing I had. I can't ever get rid of it. All of my favorite memories of him at the park for the first time include him in this sweater.

Which brings me to nesting, phase 2. In my tearing up the basement frenzy, I found a box of his old clothes. A few of each size, just a random box. Probably left over from a yard sale or something. But I had started folding it nicely thinking I'd sell it on a garage sale site on Facebook and then couldn't. On Saturday, in my dining room, I had a bit of a breakdown not being able to part with any of it. No, none of it would be Penelope worthy because it's all very boyish, but still.

What if I decide to get CRAZY and go for a fourth baby and it's a boy? What if? I can't rule that out yet. I don't know how I'll feel once Penelope comes. Maybe she'll get here and I'll be like, woah- three really IS company and we are done. But maybe I'll feel like we're still missing someone.

Of course, my absolute luck is that the next pregnancy would be twins, we'd then have 5 and we'd be uneven, not to mention, completely out of freaking room. Seriously. I have NO idea where I would house five children. None. I mean, Matt and I literally might have to move to the basement, which I would absolutely not want at all. Logistically, five kids would be a nightmare for a lot of reasons. So it'd be a real roll of the dice to try for four because nothing in my life works out nice and even like that.

But still.

What if. That's all I keep thinking.

So the box is neatly packed, back into the basement.

Just in case.

1 comment:

Natalie Busch said...

I love the idea of just a small simple box for the cherished baby items. They look so sweet. Also, you are brilliant for how organized you are and lastly, I CAN TOTALLY RELATE to not wanting to hold onto things, but then the what ifs, and the melt downs when you come across these things... I am not even pregnant! Anyway, sounds like you made the right choice for now. Congrats on the baby on the way.