Fit to be Tied

Let me just say that over the past several days, my two youngest children have started conspiring together.  Conspiring to kill me.

That’s right, Sophia Diane, who can now finally take the title of “Bitter Middle Child” and run with it, and my Kidney Bean baby (as he or she appeared to be on ultrasound Monday, a kidney bean with a heart beat!) are trying to do their mama in.  The “morning sickness” has really set in this week, and by “morning”, I of course mean “all freaking day and night”.  I’ve been fairly miserable and non-functional, and slightly bitter about it.  Yesterday Kidney Bean treated me to a new pregnancy experience: the “Splashback”.  That’s right, I vomited so violently that it splashed back up out of the toilet and into my face. Kind of ruins the 30-second relief you usually get from nausea after puking.  I was in our teeny-tiny half-bath when this lovely event occurred, and when I whirled around to get to the sink to, you know, wash the puke off my face, I hit my head pretty good on a part of the wall that sticks out where our laundry chute is. It hurt like a mother for the rest of the day, and still hurts this morning, and I have a lovely bruise over my left eyebrow.  Which is great, because I was looking a little pasty.

Anyhoo.

To add insult to injury, Sophie-pants has decided that starting last week, she is A) not going to take a nap any more and B) start getting up about 45 minutes earlier in the morning (HOW do those two things go together Sophie?? HOW??) and C) not go to bed any earlier.

Being that by late afternoon I am dying to lay down for a bit, this is very sad news for me indeed.  And since the only time I don’t feel like CRAP is when I’m ASLEEP, it’s a double-whammy.

Blargh.

I’m pretty sure the two are in cahoots.  Perhaps Sophie already has the older-sibling power of manipulation over this baby even as he or she is still floating in a pond of amniotic fluid.  Who knows?  Maybe it’s a coincidence, or maybe I’m just doomed.

One thing is for sure, though. I am fit to be tied.  And so are my tubes.

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The Name Game

Today my famous Uncle Paul wrote a very funny diatribe post on what I should name my wee little baby. You know, after I find out it’s gender.   (I have an ultrasound today to determine how far along I am and all that jazz, and I’m gonna ask ’em to look real close and see if perhaps my child has developed it’s genitalia early.  Just in case.)

What Uncle Paul may not have realized as he was writing said post was that once again, I have got this wrapped up.  Both my babies were named MONTHS before they were born.  Bobby and I had that all wrapped up and nailed down.  We called the babies by their names as soon as we found out whether that kid had a pee-pee or a vajayjay.  As a matter of fact, when we had our 20 week ultrasound with Sophie, and found out she was a girl, we didn’t quite have her name finalized yet, and I told Bobby we could not leave the doctor’s office until we had decided what our daughter’s name would be (we were pretty sure, so fortunately it didn’t take long.)

So, that’s  how we roll.  We already have a couple ideas that we (well, I) really like for this baby, but it’s not decided yet. However you can bet your sweet bippy it will be engraved in stone by July.

Then, there are some people (read: EMILY) who not only don’t find out the baby’s gender, they also have no name picked out before the blessed child arrives.  Even though they have had NINE MONTHS to think about it.  I will say in Emily’s case, that with both her babies, she at least took a SPREADSHEET of possible names with her to the hospital. While this is totally nerdy, at least she had it narrowed down to more than the entire contents of the Book of 10,000 Baby Names.

Now, continuing with her sister’s maddening tradition, my beloved cousin Anna is also carrying a nameless child.  HOWEVER!  She does know that it’s a GIRL, which is very exciting for me, because it means that I also know it’s a girl, and I am not DOOMED to wonder until she gives birth.  But although she and her hubby have known the baby’s gender for um, EVER, they still haven’t picked a name.  As you may have guessed, this is driving me bonkers.  So I thought I’d take a page from Uncle Paul’s book and suggest a few of our family gems from Emily, Anna’s and my shared family history.  At least you can add these to the spreadsheet, Annie.

America – our great-great grandmother’s name.  Patriotic!  And since the baby’s gonna be born in July…I think it’s a lock.  Or, you could name your daughter what America named her daughters -Florida and Alabama.  (Florida was our great-grandmother.)  That way your kid’s name can represent family history, Disney World, and the deep South all at once!

If you don’t like those, you could always name her after Grandma’s Aunt Shin.  Everybody loves a good baby-named-after-a-body-part.  Elbow, Clavicle, Uvula, I think you’ve got some good options there.

And of course, there’s always Jenny.  I mean after the late 70’s, I am pretty sure no one is ever gonna name their kid that again EVER, so at least she’d be unique for her generation!

But if you don’t like any of my suggestions, feel free to check out Uncle Paul’s post and steal some name ideas from the other side of the family!

How about you my dear readers?  Did you name ’em months in advance or not ’til you saw their perfect little faces?

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Inquiring Minds Want to Know

It has been really fun, and funny, over the past couple of weeks, for me to see Joshua’s curiosity about my pregnancy growing.  He wasn’t all that excited at first (direct quote: “That’s nothing exciting. It’s about a new toy or anything.”)  but now he is on Team Baby.  And at six, he has some good questions.

He asks me pretty much ever day “How big is the baby now?”  And he’s never satisfied with the teeny-tiny dimensions I make with my fingers.

“How will we know when it gets bigger?”  he asks.

“Well, mommy’s belly will start to get bigger,” I answer.  “Just like cousin Anna’s.”  (My cousin is 7 months pregnant and we just saw her Sunday, on Mother’s Day.)

“What? I didn’t know cousin Anna had a big belly!”

“Joshua, we just saw her Sunday at Grandma’s!”

“I didn’t notice!”

Oy. Boys.

Yesterday he patted my belly and said, “How will we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Uhhhh….I thought we had this figured out LONG AGO, kid!!

“Well, you know how your pee-pee looks different from Sophie’s,” I explained and he nodded, “When the baby’s born, the doctor looks at what kind of pee-pee it has, and that’s how you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Ohhhh, right!”

I then explained to him, that if you’re not CRAZY, like SOME PEOPLE, the doctor can sometimes take a picture of the baby in the mommy’s belly when it gets big enough, and see what kind of pee-pee it has in the picture, and you can know if it’s a boy or a girl before it’s born. He thought that was pretty cool!

And also?  If it’s a boy?  He likes the name “Scar”.

It’s going to be a fun 7 1/2 months!

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