Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Name That Baby!

Perhaps you have heard that I am working on a new baby. In all fairness I’m sure no one is surprised. Yes, it’s true. I am 28 weeks today. I believe it is the first week of the third trimester. You know what that means. Time to start getting uncomfortable again! But for the last time…presumably.

If you were not previously aware, this baby is a girl. I always thought naming girls would be easier than naming boys. That doesn’t seem to have been the case here. Both the boys had their names as soon as we knew what they were, or earlier in the case of Sully. Lily took a little longer. This one is proving much more problematic.

I had a girl name I liked picked out before we knew she was a she. Dave went with it, I guess not thinking that it might actually be a girl. As soon as the ultrasound tech told us and left the room he vetoed it. So uncool. That name was Estella Grace, to be called Ella. I still like it and it’s still what Connor is stuck on as he seems to be telling everyone that’s her name. Never ask a four year old to keep a secret.

From there we went to Isla Odessa. I like it, but unfortunately there are some issues with each of those names. If your spouse can’t remember how to say the baby’s name, that’s a red flag. It’s supposed to be pronounced ‘EYE-la’ but mostly he says it ‘EEE-la.’ He still spells Lily with too many l’s to this day so let’s not have him saying his next kid’s name wrong. The problem with Odessa comes from my mom who knew an Odessa, but she was the hired help.

Or maybe she was the ill-tempered poodle. Either way, bad connotations there.

Dave keeps suggesting Bridget. My mind goes straight to Bridget Jones, which I like as a book. However, when I see my new baby I don’t want to automatically see her as a slightly overweight, alcoholic British woman. I think that’s fair.

He likes it, though, so I was open to compromise. I told him that we could use it as long as we didn’t call her that. He seemed ok with that. And also I got to pick the spelling. Deal. So our latest incarnation is Brigitte Indiana whom we would call Indi. I liked it at first. I have wanted to name a girl Indiana for a long time. Unfortunately, it never occurred to me that it just might not work, maybe because I never thought I’d get to do it. Now that I have, though, I don’t really like it. It doesn’t flow, it doesn’t fit with the others’ names. It’s just kind of…off.

So now I’m back to, hunting for the right name. There are a few that I like, but there’s always a problem. Maybe somebody already named their kid that. It’s her middle name, but I do not want them to think that they had any influence whatsoever in the naming of my child. Just trust me on this. If anything I’m mad at them for taking my name before I got to use it.

Or it’s the name of a girl that Dave knew once who used to do, well, let’s just say she did bad things.

Or it’s somebody’s ill-tempered poodle.

I’ve been sending Dave lists of names today via text and I’m sure every time his pocket quacks he’s cussing me. He’s at work. Most of the names I’ve picked are fairly classic, but then there’s a few that are definitely ones you’d remember. They would lend themselves to good nicknames, though. I’m sure if it continues like this for much longer I will be forced to poll the audience. So stay tuned!

Also it has occurred to me that while I’m sure no one wants to buy more of my offspring MORE baby shower stuff, I sure do miss the food that comes with the gathering. So I have decided that it would be most awesome if there was a kind of you-don’t-have-to-bring-a-gift baby shower. There would still be food, but more people would come because it’s free cake and punch, dude! And also no stupid games that I can’t stand. It’s win-win! Of course, if someone just WANTED to bring a gift I wouldn’t refuse it. That’s just bad manners, after all.

The invitation would probably be via Facebook, but not in status form. I’m not real sure about a Facebook baby shower open invitation. There’s no telling who might show up as you’re essentially inviting everyone on your friend list. How many of those people do you really know? One would assume that only the people you intend to come would see it as a clear invite, but you never know. Maybe that piercer/tattoo artist guy has a day off and wants to score some buttercream frosted goodness and some fizzy pineapple punch. Hey, you invited him…and 462 other people. Hope you ordered a big cake.


Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Hey, The Tooth Hurts

Hey! Let's try this again shall we? I was told by a few people that this post didn't make a whole lot of sense so I fixed it. It should make total sense now. As much as it ever did.

Believe it or not I have actually written several blogs posts over the last month. However, I cannot actually prove that because I have posted approximately none of them. For whatever reasons, after having written them they just did not seem worth putting up. That’s comforting, right? I have actually been saving you from subpar writing in the month of October. October held Halloween, which spawned almost a full week of stomach viruses, and my 29th birthday, which went by almost totally unnoticed. So I guess I’ll have to wait another year on that full day at Spa Sydell.

Although it can’t be counted as happening in October, something somewhat big did happen. On November 2, I had a tooth pulled. That may not sound very big to anyone else, but it was huge for me. Over the last six or seven years I have seen Dave get a few teeth pulled and I also saw all the suffering that led up to said extractions. In the meantime, one of my molars was quietly chipping away in the back, the #31 to be exact. Oh, that’s right, I’m dentally literate.

After so long that tooth started to hurt on occasion, which led to my ultimate boycott of Kettle Chips. Damn, those things are crunchy. Then about a quarter of it just. Broke. Off. O holy Jesus. Luckily no one saw my imminent panic and freak out. So from then on I did my best to chew only on the left and keep all food debris out of said tooth hole. This led to my boycott of Milky Way bars. Damn, those things are sweet.

Time went by and I adjusted my eating to the gaping chasm in my tooth. Don’t ever let a holey tooth run your life. Then you can’t eat things like Kettle Chips and Milky Ways. I’m starting to wonder how I managed to lose twenty pounds.

With the onset of the Halloween stomach virus I had a thoroughly miserable week. First Connor got it and then Lily got it. Then Sully and Dave on the same day. That very night I chomped down on a French fry that would render me helpless and whiny for the next two days. Late that night as I tried to go to sleep I writhed in pain and I sobbed, having never felt comparable pain to what was going on in my lower molar region. I’ve heard people say that mouth pain is unlike any other kind of pain. They’re right.

Into the night I became the next to fall victim to the stomach virus. So I had two types of discomfort going on and I still managed to be mommy the next day while Dave went to work. Let’s face it, Mama has limited options. I ate nothing all that day. I just couldn’t. I can cope much easier with an empty stomach than with a throbbing face. That damn tooth made my throat and ear hurt right along with it. Misery loves company I guess.

I did not go to work the next day. I called around to dentist offices begging someone to fit me in. I ended up being accepted to the place I had intended to go to all along, as they had done Dave’s dental work and he loved them. However. There’s always a however. I had to have permission from my OBGYN for them to pull that confounded tooth. Written consent. So I called the doctor’s office and got a busy signal. I got that busy signal every time I called for almost two hours. This place has an automated answering system, there’s no reason for a busy signal. So I had to take Lily with me and actually go to the office. I told them I had been calling and they said yeah, their phones were down.

You don’t say!

They gave me what they would’ve faxed to the dentist, which just ended up being a list of medications I couldn’t have. Sigh. Shortly thereafter my mother picked me and Lily up and we went to the dentist. They worked me in and I was out of there within an hour and a half. They are awesome.

I could give a pretty long narrative about that hour and a half spent at the dentist, but I think I’ll save that for another post. I will say, however, that they really need to pick a different wallpaper in some of those rooms. It tripped me out, yo. But when all is said and done I am very proud of myself for doing the one thing I had been dreading for years. Now another tooth hurts.

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Today I am 26 weeks pregnant. Depending on which online birth calendars you are reading, next week will be the first week of the third, and hopefully last, trimester. If you’re reading a different one, that starts at 28 weeks. Why can’t they agree on that? I guess it’s in line with that whole nine months or forty weeks debacle.

I am finally wearing some maternity clothes, you’ll be happy to hear. Mostly just one pair of pants. I got them for my birthday, they are size small, and for some reason they blouse out in the back. Y’know how when you were a kid you would wear a t-shirt in the pool and it would get that Quasimodo air hump in the back when you swam? No? Just me? Well, it’s kinda like that. Like there’s supposed to be more of me back there to fill it out. Oh, well, they fit everywhere else. I’m not really complaining. A shirt almost always covers it.

Our still tentatively named baby girl is very active. Unfortunately, the shine is off the apple in that area as I guess Dave feels that you’ve felt one baby kick, you’ve felt ‘em all. I guess he’s right. But I am keen to remember that this will be the last baby occupying this space. It will! Don’t laugh!! I’ve never said that before!

I have still not gotten any pictures taken of myself. Even just the stupid bathroom mirror ones that let you see how extremely messy my bathroom is with the crayon on the walls and what looks to be a toothpaste handprint on the mirror. Oh, like your bathroom’s perfect. I’m going to petition Rosa to take some before it gets too cold, for that, too, is upon us.

As much as I love Christmas, it is wreaking havoc on my pregnant hormones. I have been turning on Pandora on the Christmas music station and at least one song per listening makes me cry. You all know how much I like to cry, let alone admit to it. I just love Michael Buble, apparently so much that I feel the need to weep over it.

One last interesting pregnant side effect: I no longer seem to have much control over my arms and hands. I have sustained about half a dozen bruises in the last two days simply from my hands, elbows, and arms just kinda doing what they want. I could do without it.