Mi Casa es .... Umm, How Do You Say Baby In Spanish ?

I’m nesting. Kind of like a giant, watermelon-bellied bird.

Yes, until now I’d always thought it was an old wives tale or one of those funny things pregnant ladies say to explain away their craziness, but I have the “ nesting instinct “, and I have it bad. Basically, its this intense feeling of wanting to clean and rearrange and generally get my house for ready for the arrival of the baby. Like I said, I’d heard of women saying they were nesting before and I just thought it was a load of clap trap. But over the course of the last month or so this need to have my house in tip-top shape has taken hold of me – and its getting worse. Its not just cleaning ( that’s how it started ) – its decorating too. I purchased my little duplex earlier this year, and moved in back in July, but its only now that I’m obsessed with having all the decorating finished.

Mr Gil and I have spent a good amount of time in the last two weeks painting. Its with good reason – the previous owners had thought it a brilliant idea to paint the walls garish, circus clown colours and, pregnant or not, there is no way I could live with a Kermit the Frog green bathroom. ( I would find a Kermit the Frog bath mat appealing though ). So now all the walls in the living area are a nice, neutral sandy/green colour, with a slightly darker hue for the architraves. I’ve made it my personal project to paint all the doors ( the same colour as the walls, only in a gloss paint ) and I only have three doors to go. Mr Gil is fervently working on the baby’s room – and knowing that we are having a boy guess what colour we went with ? Blue – yes, no-one could ever accuse of being original. I liked a seafoamy green colour but Mr Gil was set on the blue, so blue it is. It’s a lovely aqua blue and the trim will be a darker navy colour and we’ve ( ok – I’VE ) chosen to go with white furniture.

I never knew decorating my home would get to me so much. Sure, I knew what paint colours I was and wasn’t willing to live with, but I wasn’t prepared for how emotionally attached to the choices I would be. I want the house – my first own, non-rented piece of property – to be an extension of me. A visual interpretation of what image I have of myself, and want others to have of me. I want to say “ of us “ because we’re almost a real family now, the three of us ( Mr Gil, The Bump and me… ) but aside from really wanting to have blue in the baby’s room, Mr Gil has been happy with my décor suggestions. Or at least, he hasn’t voiced any objections. So I’ve gone with what I like, whats “ me “ and i’m just hoping in some way its “ him “ too, and he’ll be comfortable living with neutral paint colour and black and white photography on the walls. I want our space to be classic yet contemporary, but I don’t want to feel like I’m living in some kind of art museum. You know ?

Maybe you don’t. All I am sure of is that there is crazy, overwhelming desire within me to get it all finished before the baby arrives. Its not just some idea of practicality – “ It’ll be much easier to do it before we have a crying baby to look after “ – but more of a “ I cannot possibly be a good mother unless my walls are painted/pictures are hung/bathroom is sparkling !!! “.

Yes, triple exclamation mark – its that nuts.