Nesting
Daydreaming in a house that is yet to be built
Hello Friends,
I have officially entered the stage of pregnancy where I constantly daydream about all the things I will get done when I’m no longer pregnant. I forget that not being pregnant will mean the baby is now on the outside and will need some attention.
This week I looked up the schedules at yoga and pilates studios. I’m planning running routes. I want tennis lessons for Mother’s Day.
I read Stanley Tucci’s food memoir and imagine all the beautiful Italian meals I will make. I have a long list of books I will read, and I signed up for two weekly writing classes.
Nick and I are considering giving the kids experiences like tickets to plays and NBA games for Christmas. I assume we will all go together, and everything will work out just fine because, basically, life will be exactly the same, but with a baby, right?
This is my fourth pregnancy, and it’s the same every time. At this point, I’m just accepting my delusional form of nesting.
But above all the to-do lists and planning, the thing I think about most is our home remodel and, more specifically, the quiet nooks I want to create. These are reading spaces, thinking spaces, writing spaces, baby snuggling spaces…
It will be a long time until I will inhabit any of my dreamed-up nooks. The baby could be way past the snuggling stage, though I hope not.
Sometimes when I am writing, reading, or cooking, I feel like I am already in the new house. I spend so much time visualizing the kitchen, my office, or the shelves I will finally have to house my favorite books that it feels like I’m already there.
Where I struggle is the baby’s nursery.
There are still remnants of Aiden in Aiden’s old room. His clothes are still in the closet. His name is still spelled out on the wall. It has never felt sad or heavy to me to have these things around. I like that we still call Aiden’s room Aiden’s room, but I was looking forward to having an “out-of-my-hands” reason to put it all away. Moving out for our remodel was a perfect excuse.
But things move slowly when it comes to bureaucracy and the permitting process.
When this little Zucchini is born, we will still be in our current house. Sometime in her first few months of life, we will move into a rental not far from here. The renovation will take anywhere from eight months to infinity.
According to my What to Expect When You’re Expecting app, Zucchini is as big as a butternut squash, and I have seven weeks to go.
Friends are giving us gifts and hand-me-downs. I have become obsessed with boho rainbows. Seriously, truly obsessed. The nursery is taking shape in my mind and in real life, but where will all of it go?
The urge to nest is a real biological thing, and I am struggling to contain it.
In my teary, stressed out, illogical delirium of Covid, Nick and I decided to get a dresser and put it in Aiden’s old room. This way, I can wash and organize the baby's clothes, set up a diaper changing station, inventory the things we have, and make a list of the things we still need.
I don’t know if we will take down the letters that spell out Aiden’s name. I don’t know if it matters. But a dresser feels like enough right now.
It feels like the beginning of a nook I can picture myself in.
This is where I am today. Thank you for listening.
xoxo,
Emily
Your Journal Prompt for Today
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Read This Week
Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus
How do I describe Elizabeth Zott? She is self-aware in a way that is completely divorced from any societal or social influences, and I'd expect as a woman chemist in the 1950s and 60s, that would be a hard thing to do. She understands what is expected of her: marry and have babies, but she refuses to conform. She fights back when confronted with a sexist society's brutal and violent nature. (more)
Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Tucci
Staley Tucci makes me want to dress in tailored clothes, wear perfume, buy cut flowers, listen to classical music, stand straighter, recite poetry, and of course, cook and eat delicious food. (more)
Do you have a reading tradition?
Last year, I read a delightfully light holiday romance and decided it was just what I needed. I’m continuing the tradition this year with this fun “bromantic” and just hot enough series. I’m also adding in a fun mystery thriller. I’m looking at reading one of these.
Links to Ponder
Black Santa (Washington Post)
I just started reading this newsletter. I don’t understand half of it, probably because I’m too old, white, or straight, but it makes me laugh. (Now That I Mention It)
What is a butt for? (Radio Lab Podcast)
Write your own obituary as an exercise in living (Catapult)
I told the kids I wanted to start composting. They ignored me. I’m not giving up. (Washington Post)
The most specific gift guides on the internet. This one is for Your Outdoorsy Sister Who Can Have a Gossipy Phone Chat While Running. (!) (Cup of Jo)
Comedian Rob Delaney's 2-year-old son Henry died of brain cancer in 2018. He just published a book about his experience, and I've been following his book tour closely. I've read all the articles and listened to all the podcasts... I think about him, and I'm in awe of how he speaks about this very real but somehow unimaginable thing. I will read the book and probably listen to the audio. I look forward to the exquisite pain it will cause. You should read it too, or just buy it and don’t read it, because he is giving all the money he makes to Children’s Hospice. Here are a bunch of links:
“I wanted to ruin people’s day,” he said. “I wanted to ruin their week or their month. I wanted people to feel like they’d picked up a book, perhaps for entertainment, perhaps for enlightenment, and I wanted them to be punished.” (New York Times)
NPR host doesn’t know what words to use (Up First)
“My son died? He got sick, and they couldn’t cure him, and he died? And now he’s dead?” (New York Times… again)
If you only have time for one thing… Rob Delaney has human experience with Gayle King
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