Nesting

1 Jun

Something I least expected happened to me when I turned 30. Something I had known and loved as a child, but an activity I would never have considered during my 20’s suddenly returned. Well, I may have considered it in my 20’s if I suddenly found myself with a lot of time on my hands and an unusual amount of flour to use up, but this never seemed to happen. Also, I’m not sure if you noticed, but if you leave flour in the cupboard for long enough things start living in it.  Or maybe that’s only if you live in a house share. Either way I’m pretty sure this is why said activity never really happened again.

That’s right. The morning after I had enjoyed my last night as a 29 year old, I woke up feeling all grown up, with the strangest urge to bake. I’m not sure why this is and I’m not sure why it happened overnight, but all of a sudden I was obsessing over cake recipes and 20in loose bottomed cake tins. I was turning into my Nan. I even started wearing a pinny. Unfortunately my pinny was plastic and from the Sunderland FC shop.

I guess this is what one would call nesting. The urge to make a home. And boy was I wanting to nest.  I had cakes coming out of my ears. Chocolate, Orange and Almond, Carrot, rocky road, shortbread, the list goes on. Hubby loved it, he’s got a massively sweet tooth and is also one of those annoying people who can eat whatever he wants and stay rake thin. I’m not that lucky, well I certainly don’t think I am, so cue much bickering where I tried to get him to share the cakes with his work colleagues so I didn’t eat them all and he became all territorial, refused to share them and hid them in random Tupperware around the kitchen. Now it was my turn to get territorial. No one, I repeat no one messes with my Tupperware.

So, anyway, back to this nesting thing. I thought I had it bad when I hit 30, but nothing compares to being preggers. Cake baking is a mere drop in the ocean compared to what I’m like now.  In the last few months I’ve thrown out 12 bin bags of clothes, sold various bits on ebay, turned what was the spare room with a bed into a spare room with a sofa bed and a week later a dining room with no bed. I’ve redecorated the bedroom, bought a new bed, mattress, and mirror and I’m not even finished yet. I spend days pouring over nurseries and can’t look at a wall without thinking what I could add to make it look more stylish/colourful/tidy.

Apparently this is very common and is thought to be caused by both biological and emotional factors. I have no idea what the reason is, but I do know I want to move into Ikea. On a recent trip hubby looked terrified as I rampaged around the store demanding that we “definitely need this water jug/vase”. “Do we really” says hubby. “What will we use it for? “We need it. It says ‘homely’ it looks vintage, we can fill it with water whilst we sit in our new dining room eating cake and drinking tea”.  “I’m pretty sure we can make do without it” he says, rather painfully.

I’m starting to panic. I need this. I want nothing more than this vase/urn/jug in the spare room /dining room. I can feel it slipping through my fingers. How can I convince him?

“I think I might make a cake later” I say. “A massive cake, but you’ll probably have to take some into work as I don’t want loads of cake in the house”.

I am now the proud owner of a vase/water jug that has sat on my kitchen counter gathering dust for the past few weeks.  Ebay?

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