Nesting Syndrome

At 34 weeks pregnant and everything proceeding as normal, it would be only natural that I have started "nesting".  This, mothers around me tell me, is typical at this stage. I'm not working anymore but I have to find something to fill the days otherwise I may lose my mind from boredom alone.  So, I decided to start on a few projects.  One was putting the crib together. I couldn't wait to get it set up and put the pretty bedding in there and picture a little one sleeping inside it. As usual, I thought I could do it myself until I about pinched off my finger trying to hold up one end while screwing on another. In the end, good old mom had to help out.

I thought I would share with you the process of my main project though - because I'm rather proud of it and because it may be helpful for any of you that might be interested in beginning a project like this of your own.

I decided I would distress an old dresser rather than re-stain it to the original look or buy a cheap, new piece of furniture from IKEA. It's a technique I had seen done a few times but never tried on my own so I was a little scared I'd ruin my dad's old dresser for good attempting it but, through the help of my very handy Aunt Kathy, I think I'm on the right track with this.

First, here is what I started out with. Solid maple. I had to use a palm sander to sand off the varnish which was really rather relaxing. A, hitting a punching bag kind of relaxing. When distressing wood, some people like to really make the piece appear old and well, stressed, but that wasn't really the look I was going for. So instead of using extra harsh sandpaper, chains or screw drivers to add extra character, I simply used 150 grade sandpaper on the palm sander and gave it a quick sanding.

Once that was done, it was time to prime. This was the only part of the process that I couldn't participate in since I was using an oil based primer and that can cause brain damage in unborn babies. So, I let my brother in law do it. You're going to want to use the oil based primer so that it properly covers up the varnish on the wood.

Next came the fun part! I had decided to do a vintage color combination that I am kind of obsessed with at the moment. I picked up a gold metallic paint by Martha Stewart. It required two coats and I loved the color so much as it was that I almost didn't want to finish the technique and just leave it gold. The paint man at Home Depot told me that it was a perfect choice for this type of furniture because it wears really well. Since I am going to be doubling this dresser as a changing table, this is good. It certainly will be getting a lot of use over the next couple of years! As a side note: you will need to purchase a special type of roller for the metallic paint. It cost me around 7 dollars on top of the 19 I paid for the quart of paint (of which I used about half - looks like I have enough for another project!!).


The final painting part of the process was to put the white overlay on top. This too, required two coats as the gold bled through more than I had expected. I tried to use a different type of roller that was recommended for this coat but it was going on streaky and I just didn't like the look so I opted for a nice brush instead. There is one more piece to the technique but I haven't gotten to that yet. That is my project for tonight! After the paint from the last coat has dried to the touch but hasn't fully cured (this can take several days), I will be sanding off some of that top coat so that the gold underneath will show through.

The project itself has taken me a few weeks. Once you wait a day or 2 for every layer to dry (and several for the primer itself to dry as that takes longer) it takes longer than you think (kind of like waiting 16-18 weeks to find out if you're having a boy or girl). But, since I have nothing but time and plenty to worry my mind about, having the distraction was nice. I remember growing up how my dad would always cut the lawn or chop wood when he was frustrated or stressed out about things and I can understand why. It really is therapeutic to work with your hands. I tried to picture putting all her cute little outfits into the drawers I had lovingly worked on for her and all the times I would dry her up from a bath and get her dressed for bed. This process for me was therapeutic in that it made me think less about all the stressful things like re-finding a doctor in the Buffalo area, getting in to a pediatrician, making sure my NYS healthcare was all in order, etc. It became more about thinking about all the lovely things about being a mom like, completing projects for her that will let her know someday that I was anticipating her coming and wanted pretty little things around my pretty little thing.

You'll have to wait a few more days for the final reveal as I will still have to wait another 6 weeks for her final reveal but....I think it will be worth it.

I so wish there was a handbook on how to manage all of this on my own.

The Gritty Truth

I promised to write often and alas, I have had trouble doing so. Not because there is little to write about because there is always something to say but, because what I need to write is hard and having other's read it is harder.

There is the practical side of expecting a baby that leaves me with constant questions and quandaries to my friends and family. Such as, how does one go about buying a Jogger that fits the car seat properly? Since I'm only 90% sure that I am having a girl, should I stick with neutrals so as not to grow attached to pretty things should that 10% overtake the odds? It's hot and I often feel immensely unattractive - how did you expecting mothers cope out there? (Feel free to answer these questions. They are not rhetorical.) I fill my days with finding answers to these questions. I spend countless hours searching online, reading the articles and thrift shopping for bargains. I eat the salad and the fiber to combat the "pregnancy side effects" and I wash my face multiple times a day to clear up the skin that dislikes the heat and the hormones. I occasionally wear the black maxi dress and heals with a splash of my favorite perfume and feel beautiful in my stretching skin. But, no amount of researching, pampering pedicures and soul centering yoga sessions/front of the mirror pep talks can reassure my deepest insecurities.

I always knew he would be leaving the area. Leaving for good. Not far enough away to limit access but far enough that all ties are figuratively severed by his move and consequently, my decision to let him leave. But he will never leave; the eyes or the hair or the skin tone or the quiet demeanor that will be my daughter will never leave. And the part of me that never wants to see him again will see him again and again in her. And the part of me that wishes he weren't gone will find him in her again and again. And there is no doubt that my heart will ache. Will there be any doubt my heart will ache? I won't really be alone.....? A part of him loves her.....?

I've never found words so hard to come by. I've never been at a loss for how to express my feelings. In the fact that this has taken me longer to write than anything since a 60 page Dr. B. IR paper in college tells me how deep the emotion is. Past what I can easily write and easily share. But, still not past the deeper instinct of motherhood that has already marked my soul.

dare i dream

of a deeper me

dare i dream

beyond what i dream

dare i dream

to feel more than i

dare to dream

at 24 weeks 4 days.

I Ain't Never Lookin' Back

I try to think back to my early 20's when I thought about what my life would by like once I reached my late 20's - where I am now. I remember being sure that I would be married young, because to have children too old and be an older parent just seemed abominable. I would have traveled to a few continents, met amazing people that shaped me and gave me knowledge from their own vast experiences. At least by 28 I would have 1 kid, a dog or 2, a picket fence (even if it was in my neighbor's yard and not my own) and a collection of books that filled the floor-to-ceiling bookcase my ever so handy husband had built for me in my dreamed-of library room. At 21, I was sure that 29 would look like the picture of every girl's dreams - full of love, home, stability and well...the inevitable.

I say inevitable and you'll probably start to think that I'm a fatalist and I didn't really believe any of those things would happen to me to begin with. In hindsight, I think my dreams at 20 were the dreams of a generation that believed that to be the path I should desire. To my own detriment at times, I am not one to follow a very well traveled path and at 29, I can tell you which part of that list has come to pass: I had a dog - I had to give him away to move home and finish school. I have traveled to a few continents - and each time I grow a little more and acquire a few more invaluable friends. I have not married "the man of my dreams". I haven't even figured out yet what that man really looks like. I'm definitely a little more jaded and a whole lot less optimistic; reality does that to one. And there is one more thing from the original list that I will be able to check off by the end of the year....

....and that is to welcome a little bit of joy to truly change my life forever, giving me something to love more than this single woman's quest to always love myself. On 15 November (or shortly before or after, you know how these things go) Grandchild Hill #2 is due.

I am excited, scared, worried, expectant, apprehensive (and the antithesis of yogi-esqu, hippy happy serene) and a million other emotions. It has always helped me to write and to read the thoughts of others who may be in similar situations as myself or have been there before so, I'll be writing throughout and I look forward to posting in a week or 2 the sex of the baby! It's the beginning of a lifetime's worth of journeys. And so it begins....no longer somewhere over the rainbow.