What's in a name?

A couple months ago before we knew the baby was a boy we struggled with what to call it. “It” seemed a little cold. On the way to one of the early appointments, we were discussing this. I vetoed terms like “bean” and “sprout” and certainly the conjunction of “bean sprout” – probably because at that point any food term made me want to run for the bathroom. Driving down Interstate 44 we came up with Fig. I’m not sure where it came from, I say that it was because Trent thought it looked like a Fig Newton on the ultrasound, but that might just be something I made up (and mostly it looked like a blob on the ultrasound, but Blob seemed awfully impersonal as well). Fig has stuck for the last couple months, and I don’t doubt it will be his nickname long after he has a different one on his birth certificate.

Even before I got pregnant we had started talking about real names. If Fig was a girl her name would be Kate. We had that locked up and both agreed on that from the start. Of course things are never that easy, and when we found out that it was a boy we started a list. Trent and his dad both have the middle name of Dean, so it seems appropriate to have Fig’s middle name be Dean. Easy Sneezy. Now we need a first name to go with Dean.

Trent wants the baby to have his initials … and why that is I have no idea. Aside from monogrammed towels (which we do not have) I cannot see any possible reason for this to be important. The only thing Trent owns with his initials is his Branding Iron. Now I can see a lot of good reasons for naming a baby a certain name, but to inherit a $100 iron to label cows is not high on the list. Men are strange.

So back to the list. The list of names is on a notepad in the living room and anytime we hear a name we like we write it down. Correction: Usually I write it down and he crosses it out 3 minutes later.  There are not a lot of T names I like so he humors me and lets me write down other names. There are probably 30 names on the list, and only three remain without a line through them: Brady, Chisholm, and Tripp.

Each name as its benefits and draw backs, but at this point I’d say Tripp is the frontrunner.  The irony of two people as clumsy as Trent and I having a child named Tripp is not wasted on me … but I think that falls under the category of things he can bring up to a shrink someday when discussing how his parents made his life miserable.

Then again, we just might stick with Fig. Figgero Dean Drennan has a nice ring to it.

On little boys and baby bumps

Saturday was a beautiful day in Oklahoma - the high topped out at about 75 and the sunshine felt wonderful on my arms as I strolled around the farm in a short sleeved T-shirt (and Trent's jeans!). I helped fix fence and haul hay, which is to say that I sat in the vehicle and discussed important life events with our nephew Konner (age 5) while Trent did all the work.

Konner is the coolest kid I know, and I actually asked Trent if there was a way we could somehow trade our baby with his sister and take Konner instead - until the baby was 5 - at which point we could take him back. Trent didn't think his sister would go for it. Konner and I discussed all kinds of important things, not the least eye opening of which were his statements that he would teach our baby to 1) pick his nose and 2) cuss. This, followed by a lengthy discussion of 'pooting' and burping at inappropriate times, made me think I was well on my way to doing just fine with a baby boy of my own. With Konner (and Cooper age 9) as cousins, this baby better be tough! I am thankful he will grow up with cousins close to him. My cousins continue to this day to be my very best friends.

Saturday evening we attended a dinner at the Alex school put on my the local stock club. This was the first time I had put on real clothes and seen people I know around here since I started to look pregnant. While there was a mini melt-down about pants not zipping before we ever left the house (and yes Trent, I saw you laughing) I managed to find some clothes and appeared presentable. Trent's mom, who I see almost everyday, was surprised that I looked pregnant. Other people asked if I had to wear maternity pants yet. I guess I'm at that strange stage where my belly is bigger than it was, but not yet pregnant big. Mostly I look like I overindulged at the All You Can Eat Seafood Buffet.

I do not believe in taking photos of the belly, so you will not see any of those here. If you want to see it, pack a lunch and head to Blanchard.  And I don't even understand that thing about people (strangers!) wanting to touch it, so keep your hands to yourself!

Bargain!

I hear we need one of these things ... not really sure why or what all it does but a Pack and Play was on the top of all lists of things we should register for. I saw they were $125-$175 at Target, found this Eddie Bauer one on Craigs List for just $40 and picked it up on Wednesday. It took us way longer than I will admit to figure out how to get it together (I found the instructions after it was assembled) but it seems pretty cool.

And if the baby doesn't like it, it seems like an excellent place to keep the dogs contained ...

Overheard

Trent: "I think you are starting that pregnancy glow thing"

Laurie: "Actually it is dried toothpaste. I'm trying to get rid of all these zits ... "

Half way there

Today marks 20 weeks of pregnancy - halfway to the finish. It has both been the longest 5 months of my life and has flown by so fast.

A couple of months ago, amid the throwing up and headaches and endless sleeping I vowed this would be an only child. Thinking back on times in my life when I haven't felt good, it has been a day, or two, or a week but never MONTHS at a time. Of course when I wasn't feeling terrible, I was worried that I wasn't feeling bad enough - that something must be wrong for me to actually feel like leaving the house. Between weekly visits to the specialists, feeling sick all the time, and constant worry, the whole first trimester was really rather unpleasant.

However, the second trimester is off to a much better start. For the past month, I have felt remarkably like my old self. I haven't been sick and stopped taking the nausea medicine at about week 16. That was about the same time my jeans started getting really uncomfortable (but almost like a badge of pregnancy honor I vowed to not give in to maternity clothes until it was absolutely necessary). When I did break down and buy maternity pants, I wondered why I hadn't done it sooner and truly think I will never go back to pants with a waistband. Ever. Working from home has allowed me to put together some interesting outfit choices, my favorite of which is a pair of Trent's overalls that I wear to feed (and no doubt scare) the farm animals. I love those pants.

When we found out we would be having a boy, I wasn't surprised as I expected it all along. I said that I didn't care what it was, just as long as it was healthy, but I suppose that was a bit of a fib. Truth be told having a little boy scares me ... I don't know a lot about little boys and I worry I won't know what to do with him. I don't know about bugs and trucks and gross things Little boys like. I guess that is why little boys have daddies. And now that I have had some time to adjust to the idea, I'm excited about a boy. He and I will learn to look at the world through his eyes together, and that is pretty special.

Given the troubles we have had getting to this point, the first half has been marked with stress and worry about something going wrong with the baby. A wise woman (mom!) reminded me that what will be will be, and I just need to relax and enjoy the second half of this pregnancy. That is what I plan to do ... starting the second half tomorrow with a better attitude. After all, I have always lived a charmed life, what makes me think that would change now?!

Getting started ...

I was hesitant to start a blog ... seems a little like a diary you invite the internet to read. However, with a new baby on the way and one set of grandparents 1000 miles away, it seems like the best way to keep in touch with people who care about that. I thought about using Facebook, but didn't want to be one of "those" people whose whole existence (i.e. Facebook profile) is defined by their kids. Seems more appropriate to have my blog defined by the kid - and only those people interested in said kid need to pay any attention to it.

So it begins, and we will see how it goes*. I am notorious for having grand intentions and lacking on the follow-through, so this may never get off the ground. I hope it does. I hope I am better about documenting things related to life here so that once a little time goes by I am able to look back on this and smile about all the changes happening in our lives.

*Disclaimer: Yes, I have a couple degrees in communication, but this is not my Master's thesis. Grammer will be incorrect, words will be misspelled, and it will not be clever or wity or insightful or groundbreaking (which really means it won't be all that different than my actual Master's thesis). If you want a professional blog, you came to the wrong place. I have a real job that requires proofreading, and it pays better.