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.
So I looked through my scrapbook stuff.
I went to the basement and may or may not have tore the place up.
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.
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 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.
What if. That's all I keep thinking.
So the box is neatly packed, back into the basement.
Just in case.