I have seen few nests which, in fact, contain extraneous materiel. They seem, each to its species and resources to hand, models of economy and wisdom. So getting rid of Stuff is Good Nesting in my book. But as I get rid, I also wonder about how much I'm ditching my life. I can't yet ditch my pink and silver Patagonia fleece: it's from when I was 23, 24, when I used to go cross-country skiing on mountain trails by moonlight after a full day at work, and ran 10k races at lower altitudes just because, well, I could, and going down the mountain gave me a competitive advantage even though I have short legs.
It's threadbare, almost, but it still has a hanger.

Those baby-chair thingies are widely dis-advocated by various folk interested in posture and development; bad for baby hips and lower girdle strength, too encompassing a set of physical constraints. A small playpen is grand; even an inflatable ring, like a little paddling pool with a cover, does a great job.