A Word On NestingMonica Bielanko
KID B’s room is almost complete. Crib set up, brand newish IKEA dresser purchased off Craigslist (at a fraction of the retail price) that matches crib and changing table, and I’ve been scouring secondhand stores for tons of clothes. I don’t think I’ve purchased a single new outfit this time around.
When you’re expecting your first kid you’re an idiot, you know? At least we were. Went all nutty and bought not one but TWO pair of Converse All Stars in size newborn. OMIGOSH, lookit the itty bitty lil’ shoes that look like grown-up people shoes!!! What is it about the miniaturization of everyday items that makes them so irresistibly adorable? But adorable or no, do you think we put those shoes on Violet once in her first six months of life? No. Also, do you know how hard it is to put All Stars on tiny feet? What with the laces and such it’s akin to dismantling a bomb. A sweaty, curse-inducing task, to be sure. And once you get over the first week of, Look how cute this outfit looks on her, you’re all about ease. She’s just going to puke on it anyway. You should know this.
So, no shoes this time around. For that matter, no “outfits” this time around. No tiny jeans and mini grown-up looking attire. It’s all onesies up in this crib. Utah is mecca for secondhand baby clothes. Brand new stuff. We’ve got babies coming out our ears in this state. And with dang near everyone in the Mormon church attending baby showers, Moms get more than they know what to do with so you end up with better options at the thrift stories than you would at Babies R Us. At one percent of the cost.
Nesting. Yeah. I am currently being struck with the impulse to get both cars detailed and clean both car seats with cotton balls and Q-tips. And hang pictures. And pull out the fridge and disinfect everything behind it. And paint the entire house.
Would that be going overboard?
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