I've thought often throughout this pregnancy about how lucky I am. We are in much better shape preparation-wise than I was with my daughter 4 1/2 years ago. And since this baby is a boy, I have a lot of hand-me-downs coming my way from my sister and sister-in-law. I really am blessed with the things I have and will have.
However, I have also thought often of the things I need.
And of course, the things I want.
The things I wish I could afford but can't.
The things that other people have that I don't.
And while I absolutely love sites like Pinterest and Etsy, they do feed into this subconscious need of mine for MORE stuff. The perfect stuff. The clean, concise, orderly, beautiful, modern, timeless, vintage, bold, aesthetically pleasing stuff.
I feel bombarded by images of perfectly decorated nurseries.
With modern colors, patterns, and textures, designer cribs and furniture, custom bedding and artwork, handmade (by themselves or relatives) blankets and decor...
I admit to having fallen prey to the marketing that started this trend. I'm on Etsy far too much, wishing much too hard that people will ONLY purchase from my registries, and not on their own whims. Feeling let down when things don't match my "color scheme" or my "style" for the baby.
And feeling like that leaves me feeling greedy. And sad. And kind of pathetic.
I should be so grateful for everything we receive! Even if it's covered in footballs. Or puppies. Or whatever.
Especially since our financial situation is hardly anything to boast about.
But mostly, because I should just feel blessed that people want to give us something. Something they liked, or thought was cute, or that reminded them of us.
I should feel this way, and yet, I see footballs and think, "Why couldn't it have been a simple color, or pattern?"
Maybe that's a bad example, because I know I'm not the only person who thinks sports themes are tacky for a baby. But still. Be gracious Jess.
Sidebar.
I'm waiting to move into an apartment that is currently in shambles due to renovation.
This leaves me hoarding my baby stuff in a corner of my living space downstairs. Living space a term being used loosely, since I hardly use the space at all aside from storing boxes and gathering clutter.
I prefer to spend the bulk of my time upstairs in the common areas shared with my family for the limited time we are here, so while things keep piling up down there, I don't spend enough time in the area to worry about things being too orderly.
This leaves me both living in a mess, and also waiting anxiously to begin the actual nesting. An urge which I feel almost every minute of every day.
I'm also about to stop working. Which I'm super excited about, but without an apartment and nursery to get ready, I feel a little useless. Like, what will I be doing that is productive? So I'm feeling rather unproductive.
My current mode of transportation, my in-laws van, is also about to disappear. And we are shopping for a new car on a limited budget that doesn't actually exist. But the van will be gone on a specific date and then I will just be car-less. For who knows how long. Dependent on relatives and friends for rides, which includes getting my daughter to school.
I have numerous other stress factors that are more related to the people around me than myself, but that affect my life none-the-less, all of this on top of the fact that a baby will be here soon.
I'm feeling extremely....overwhelmed
Bringing me back to topic, I found the image above (on Pinterest of course!), which is a quote from our dear late President Teddy Roosevelt. And when I saw it, I thought, "Aha!" This is exactly what I needed to see and hear. I need to stop comparing. Stop comparing what I have to what these nameless, faceless strangers have. Stop comparing my ability to keep things orderly to people who aren't in my current situation. Stop comparing the things I have, to the things I imagine I should have. I need to stop wishing for more. It's not my style. And it's not something I felt during my last pregnancy (a pregnancy sans websites and friends with babies).
In the end, I need to just remember that this is me. And him. And us three almost four. And what we have is enough. And who we are is enough. And that our love is enough. :)
