bringing baby home
The first time around we did all the baby things.
I created a Pinterest board and painstakingly chose materials for the changing pad and mattress cover; a rug for the hardwood floor; artwork for the walls. I spent a Sunday afternoon painting a mural of trees on one bedroom wall. Drew built a bookcase which I filled with adorable baskets packed to the brim with soft muslin blankets and burp cloths, stuffed animals, and children’s books. The top drawer of the changing table held a variety of brightly colored, washed cloth diapers. By the time Lukas arrived, his room was picture perfect and waiting for him.
This time…things are shaping up a little differently.
For one thing, I completely forgot to put things aside for the baby back in December when I was packing up the house. Maybe it was because I was still in shock over being pregnant. Or maybe it’s because the flu of the decade decided to show up and hold me hostage for two, truly horrible weeks. Either way, the baby stuff (i.e. newborn clothes, bouncy chair, swaddles, burp clothes, all the stuff a mom likes to have around in her first few months with a new baby) is in storage and I have no clue where: probably all the way in the very back. So there’s that.
After we fly home, Drew, Lukas, and I will be moving to our third house of the year: a furnished rental we’ll live in for a few months while we hunt for a house to buy. On the one hand, that makes me feel slightly crazy if I think about it too much: yet another, unfamiliar house to call temporarily home and to Lukas-proof.
But (surprise!) there are perks to this strange, nomadic lifestyle we’ve adopted. I’m rather obsessive when it comes to organizing and cleaning and maintaining a comfortable, clean space. I could see myself stooping to all sorts of extreme nesting shenanigans if I was back in our house on Sprunt; the sorts of things only crazy (or crazy pregnant) people tackle.
Cleaning the trim on my hands and knees with a sponge: check. De-cluttering and organizing the closets: check. Wiping down the microwave and de-greasing the inside of the oven (gross): check.
But in a rental…it’s not my space. I can’t paint walls, buy accessories, or worry about the cats shedding all over the furniture (a very real concern, since Trixie thinks shedding is her life’s purpose or some nonsense like that). Sure, the house should probably be cleaned on a semi-regular basis, but I feel absolutely no desire to organize closets, scrub floors (or trim), or re-arrange furniture in a rental (this theory has been tested here in Alaska, in an attempt to Lukas-proof, with great success). For whatever reason, if it’s not MY space, I don’t care. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not a slob. I’ll clean the toilets and vacuum the floors, but I’m not about to expend extra energy doing someone else’s spring cleaning.
I have an amazing sister and a friend (my sister’s sister-in-law–are you confused yet?) who graciously said they’d lend me the newborn essentials our wee baby boy will need. So as long as I can calm the anxious, oh-my-gosh-you-plan-to-bring-a-newborn-home-to-WHAT part of my mind…it’s all going to work out just fine.
All photos taken by my extremely talented sis, Giedre, of Walking Dot Photography.