I Love My Nest

Years ago, when my oldest child was born I enrolled into a children’s book club. Every month two new books came in the mail and after a few years we had quite the collection. Every Dr. Seuss book adorned our shelves and then a hodge podge collection of various authors made their way into our home. The favourite book for my second daughter was titled “The Best Nest”. The author is P.D. Eastman and it was read in my home thousands of times. And now, it resides on the bookcase of my 6 year old twin Grandsons.

The story follows the journey of Mr. and Mrs. bird as they search for the perfect place in which to build their nest. They already have a nest in a small birdhouse and Mr. Bird is very happy. Every day he sang his happy song. “I love my house, I love my nest, in all the world, my nest is best.” But alas Mrs. Bird is not content. She wants to find a new nest. A better nest. One fit for their children. And so Mr. Bird sets about to find a new home for his family. His search is fraught with every sort of stumbling block you could imagine but he pushes on. No spoiler alert here, but the book book has a lovely happy ending. For my husband and I it became a mantra of sorts. Because we loved our nest. It was the best nest.

Our house was purchased after our second child was born. We lived in a small two bedroom apartment for over 5 years and it was cozy. Home. And all we could afford. The master bedroom was huge. Two dressers, a deep freeze, a bench press with barbell and a sewing machine all lined the walls around a queen sized bed. There was very little room to navigate but we made it work. The second child created a need for a crib. It was wedged in between the sewing machine and one dresser but it was clear that we had outgrown the small nest we had loved for so long. On the ground floor right beside the laundry room, our apartment was perfect. A small private patio held some flower pots, a wading pool and a patio set where we had morning coffee. Around the corner was a huge grass area where my husband taught our oldest girl how to play baseball. There was a small playground and our cars were parked very close. We loved the community. It was our small town plunked down in the middle of a big city.

The community was a little out of our price range but I refused to look anywhere else. And so the search began. I admit I hated our house. My hubby picked it out. It was very dated and the yard was horrible. But it had three bedrooms and it was in our price range. Most importantly it was still in our neighbourhood and less than two blocks to the elementary school our daughter attended. As time went by the home and yard were both changed numerous times. It was an older small bungalow and throughout the years it was changed as the family grew both in size but also in age. Rooms changed designation depending on the family. A new baby had an 11 year old move to the basement. Eventually the second oldest also moved to the basement and the oldest moved into the large bedroom which had been a TV room. The playroom became the TV room with a play room until eventually the play area was dedicated to weights and a treadmill. A second bathroom was put into the basement and it has been gutted and redone. The main floor bathroom has been renovated 3 times. Currently only one of the 5 bedrooms has a bed. Mine. The others are a dressing room, a music room, a TV room and a yoga meditation room. The kids are all gone and the house fits me now as the old Grandma. I hate my kitchen but it is only 12 years old. I have had 3 different kitchens in this home.

Throughout the years my husband was always eager to go look at new homes. Brand new homes in new communities. I went a few times but I am not a window shopper. I go to buy. Frankly I couldn’t imagine leaving this neighbourhood. It is my home. I have lived in this community for 42 years. And so, I never gave into my husbands desire to move. Until we were both retired. We decided to downsize and buy a condo. Our home is pretty tiny. Only 1000 square feet so downsize really is more symbolic as we were downsizing the time and money we were going to spend on a home. After he passed away I found I really had no desire to move. He was here with me. My memories of our life together were here. How could I leave a place where I spent more than half my life with someone who shared the joys and the heartaches.

Yesterday I spent hours baking. Bread, banana bread and some chocolate zucchini cakes and muffins. My tiny kitchen was a chaotic mess. The freezer was filled and so was the sink. My dishwasher had some issues and so I just didn’t get around to fixing it. I don’t miss it, until I bake. And so as I finished the dishes this morning (hand washing is tedious), I dreamt of a new kitchen and then my mind drifted to the old dreams of renovating the entire first floor. Take out one bedroom. Move the dining room. Make a bigger kitchen. Put in sliding doors which lead to a deck. Which would then have to be built and the yard changed around. I don’t have the money for that but I could sell the cabin. But I love the cabin and the peaceful feeling I get while I am there. As I sit down in my cozy chair with my coffee and fresh baked banana bread, I dismiss all of those thoughts. I think about the book that my daughter loved so much. I am at peace here in my home. I love my house. I love my nest. In all the world my nest is best.

The message for parents in this book is much deeper and more profound than the silliness intended for kids. Contentment is so hard to achieve in a world where things move so fast and we are bombarded with ideas and images that make us feel we are missing out. The pressure we put on ourselves is so intense. We feel happiness is just around the corner. We will feel like we have “made it” when some arbitrary thing has happened. Some idea we formed based on what we saw others do. Mr. Bird had the right idea. His nest was best. No matter where he put his nest, he sang a happy tune every day. Because his home was his family. His nest was where they were. He understood he didn’t need bigger and better. He was content. And Mrs. Bird? Well, she got the message. And so did I. I love my nest. It truly is the best.