Resisting my nesting instincts

I have a lot of pregnant friends at the moment. As I facebook-stalk through people’s photos, I see so many lovely houses with nurseries all set up to go for the up and coming babies. However, living in an apartment can pose some nesting problems.

First of all, the baby is going to sleep where the drum kit is currently set up. And there is absolutely no way that I want to deny Zac his last few months of smashing away on his kit before it has to be boxed and stacked out on the balcony. But I find myself having to hold myself back from getting in there and packing it up myself – just so I can spread out my baby things.

So, this is one reason why we haven’t bought a cot yet – because as yet, there’s nowhere to put it. However, yesterday we bought a changing table top that sits on top of the rails of a cot. And I think I’ve asked Zac six times about when we can go to IKEA to get our cot. Poor guy. So, for now, the changing top is sitting in it’s box, leaning against the sofa bed, glaring at me everytime I walk past the study. I’m starting to understand how my Dad feels about ironing. Nobody tell him that, please.

I also keep buying dragon toys (we’re having a dragon baby) and I’m dying to put them on display – along with the cute second-hand baby clothes that I’ve picked up. But alas, no space strikes again.

My body clock, and wriggling bubs, also haven’t been helping as I keep waking up at 7am on weekends. With an urge to do something nesty. Anything nesty! But yesterday, I think I may have the answer – baking! I started at 7am, and by the time hubby rolled out of bed, I’d made 1 french earl grey birthday cake for Michelle (incl. icing), 1 cranberry, sunflower seed and coconut rye loaf and 1 apricot, raisin and cinnamon rye loaf. And by then, I was over ‘nesting’ and just wanted to rest. Success!

So, let’s hope baking can keep these urges at bay for now. Any other nesting distraction suggestions are welcome though – just drop them below!

Things I love about being pregnant in China.

1. My co-workers arguing over whether it’s a boy or girl in there.

2. The delicate way that my friends rub my belly, until I make them poke it properly to see how weird it feels.

3. Everyone leaps up for me on the bus.

4. My co-workers insist that if I’m tired at work, I should just have a nap on the sofa in the office next door.

5. My co-workers insist that I should go home early to avoid crowded public transport, where I might get pushed around (they haven’t seen evidence of no. 3).

6. The principal doesn’t want me walking down the outside stairs because they can get slippery.

7. The looks of confusion at my belly on the street. “Is she pregnant? Or just fat? It’s too hard to tell with these foreigners…”

8. The advice. Especially about computer screens and microwaves.

9. The way my students have never directly asked me whether I’m pregnant or not. They just secretly ask the Chinese teachers.

10. The excitement when I tell people that I’m bringing my baby back to Beijing, and they will get to meet him/her!