Nesting

Renovations, Day 1.

Little (or Fairy) Penguins are creatures that always captivate people.  They are dainty creatures, with that adorable penguin waddle, only on an iddy-biddy scale.  One of the most remarkable things about Little Penguins though, is their courtship.  While they are credited as being a monogamous species (‘pairing for life’ for those playing at home), they will re-pair if one party becomes absent…or gains weight or something…  Anyhoo, the intriguing thing is that the female chooses their mate based upon the quality of the nest they build.  This makes Little Penguins both excellent nest-builders and talented wife-pleasers.

In this regard, Little Penguins and I share skill-sets.

The phenomenon of pregnant women nesting is well documented - I’m sure there’s a chapter all about it in “What To Expect When You’re Expecting”…or maybe it doesn’t cover the big issues like I do.  Well here’s the scoop – once women reach the point of no return (when there’s no denying that things are about to change…in big ways…for good), they start nesting.

Nesting, from my experience, can be defined as: “an overwhelming desire in a pregnant woman to create a living space that aligns precisely with her vision of perfection and the expectation that her partner will deliver upon it with appropriate time left before the baby’s arrival”.  It may begin small – a simple Google search for baby furniture, or a wistful gaze at the paint swatches in Bunnings.  But before you know it, you, too, may find yourself waist deep in asbestos-ridden kitchen cabinets strewn across what was once a lawn, while bulging Wifey stands on a stool somewhere above issuing directives.

Nearly every mother we’ve spoken to will tell that tale of renovating their first home while pregnant.  Rewarding though it may be, I certainly wouldn’t recommend it to one prone to stress!  Unlike regular renovations, where you can chip away at things little by little, with progress trundling on at it’s own merry pace; renovations for purposes of nesting have a clear deadline before which they must conclude (particularly when you take our approach of gutting your house in a weekend, rendering it uninhabitable and spending the next two months slowly, but surely putting it back together - in a manner that aligns with Wifey’s mystical vision).  Sure, you might say, “Baby won’t realise that mission-brown frames are hideous and would look much better in Princess Bling [white]”; but if you don’t do it before Baby comes, when are you ever going to get around to it?  Particularly when ‘it’ involves sanding off paint that (by colour alone) likely came from a lead-based era.  And I challenge ANYONE to tell a pregnant wife who’s just reached the cankles phase of pregnancy, that the baby doesn’t care about a perfect house!

So resign yourself to the fact that you are either going into slavery for an indeterminable length of time prior to Baby’s arrival (good practice for post-Baby’s arrival [PBA] I guess), or - in the case of those so-endowed – forking out a healthy wad of cash for someone else to ensure that your baby enters a nest that’s just right, according to her mother’s particular vision.  On that point – if you have any particular vision yourself for the kind of nest you think your child would appreciate (perhaps swayed by a personal preference), it is worth gingerly raising it (perhaps in a hypothetical scenario) to determine whether or not it aligns with those of the mother of your soon-to-be child.  If so, awesome!  She will be pleased that you had an input!  If not, lock it down.  Don’t be a hero: it’s not worth it.  Smile and nod, say, “Yes, I was just thinking that we should use Hog Bristle for the walls – what other colour would I want?” and “I agree, the bottom of a box under the house is definitely the best place to keep my surfing photos!”.  Accept the fact that this is going to happen.  Hopefully, like me, you find it to be a fulfilling adventure.  Exhausting though.  So exhausting.  Totally kiss sleep and energy goodbye.  I’m told that’s what it’s like having a baby, too…