I was lying on the couch with a book the other day when I heard a roaring noise. As it got closer I identified it: My best friend downstairs, whose second baby is due in early March. I began to piece together the story from the sounds I heard: it sounded like she had vacuumed her apartment, then gotten on a roll and vacuumed the hall, then, unable to stop, had headed up the stairs.
Great, I thought, Steph must be nesting! The clean hall is a bonus, but mostly I’m just glad to see that after two and a half exhausting trimesters working full-time and caring for her one-year-old, my round-bellied friend is perking up. In fact, she just bought a 24-swim card to a nearby pool. She’s not leaping about all day and night, but I do think some energy has kicked in and something is telling her to get ready.
Coincidentally, Leo now insists on hearing the same few stories over and over again every day, and one of the better ones in rotation is The Best Nest, in which a hormonal Mrs. Bird crushes the exuberance of Mr. Bird as he stands outside wharbling “I love my house, I love my nest, In all the world, This nest is best!” “I hate this old place,” Mrs. B snaps. After various house-hunting adventures, the Birds end up where they started, but Mrs. Bird is the one singing the “I love my nest” song. Showing off a big blue egg, she claims “a mother bird can change her mind.”
I’ve been nesting too, even though I’m not expecting anything bigger in my personal life than a happy end to the really good novel I’m reading. I nest frequently. For me, changing the pillows around, giving the living room a new splash of color by draping a throw on the back of the couch or finally finding the right place for that cool pottery vase Steph made is a way of reminding myself that we’re always changing.
Aaron likes to joke that every time he leaves me alone something changes, and it’s sort of true. Making a nice home is one of the fulfilling things that I love to do during my me-time. I love to look around at our colorful, cheerful home, either from the couch as I take a rare moment to relax in the quiet house, or once Aaron and Leo are back home and we’re all playing in the living room, filling the floor with Lego towers. Whenever I catch sight of that vase in its new spot I have the feeling that our life is a work-in-progress in the best way possible. I love our nest.