You're Going to Name Her What?

I thought that naming my child was going to be pretty easy.  After all, I'm a pretty reasonable person and I usually can find a mutually agreeable compromise to almost every situation.  Picking a name......NOT so easy.  Not only do Ashley and I have completely opposite views on acceptable baby names, we both were very passionate in our assertion that the baby names each of us picked out were the only names that would produce an astronaut or a Grammy award winning recording artist.

After countless negotiating sessions in which we both played "the avoider" or " the accommodater" we both sat down with our problem solving hats and each of us came up with our top 10 names.  After 30+ minutes, ZERO matches.  Ashley had her "different" names and of course I had my "traditional" names.

Finally, THE NAME just came up on us.  No list, no haggling, no yelling, no negotiating, just a name that we both agreed upon.

The last problem, releasing the name.  If I said that nobody knew the name I would be lying.  Ashley told a random doctor at work, the lady who did her makeup at Ashley Bergen's wedding and a couple of people in the grocery store.  I told the girl who cuts my hair.  And we have only told one person who is a member of the "friends and family" program.  That person is working on a piece of art work for us, so we sort of needed to give it up.  

It's very hard telling people.  I feel like I'm in a constant state of gauging whether people are judging the name that we chose.   The very reason that we decided not to tell people is the reason that I struggle so much every time I say it.  So there I was last night putting up aluminum foil over her name in her room because my parents were coming over.  I even covered up her ornament with her first initial on it.   It looked pretty stupid, but I cracked a smile.  

Another Scoop For Me Please!

So after I ripped through a half package of bacon because Ashley wasn't really in the mood for dinner, I got the ever familiar statement "You know what I want? Ice Cream.  And not that Dairy Queen junk!  Like, REAL Ice Cream"  So there we were, trekking up to Oberweis for a REAL Hot Fudge Sundae.

I think I am going to miss these random cravings.  There is nothing better than rocking a round trip excursion for cheese fries at the local (25 miles away) Fuddruckers only to hit up Taco Bell a couple hours later.  I learned early on that the best way to keep my wife happy during this whole baby making thing is to just go along with whatever crazy idea she can come up with.

All this reckless eating has really done a number on my waistline though.  My wife might have gained a few pounds, but I am officially 25 pounds heavier than pre-baby.  Maybe I'll be able to lose some weight January 1st, but until then you'll hear me say "One scoop? Another scoop for me please!"

Boredom

One may ask, "Why would you make American Flag desserts in November?"  The answer is simple, boredom.  I'm not talking about that kind of boredom where you are just plain lazy and you can't think of anything possibly better than watching TV.  I'm talking about BABY BOREDOM.  My wife is tired. VERY TIRED.  I have to be honest, I can't blame her.  I can think of nothing worse than a foreign object that decides to grow (at an exponential rate mind you) inside of you, while also deciding that it might be a good idea to kick, jerk, and lodge itself wherever it seems fit.

All of this discomfort is extremely hard for me to watch.  I feel so bad that my wife feels the way she does and I have no objections to her sitting and sleeping all day.  All of this sitting around does cause a very inconvenient problem for me though.  It's like asking a bike messenger to take up a desk job, it's just not in my nature.  So tonight, at around 8 PM, I gave up the notion that I had to be up at 5:15 AM for work and I made cookies (in the shape of brownies) that look like American Flags.  My wife's best work friend became an American citizen today.  That may not seem like a big deal to most of us, but for her this was a dream come true.

So I thought it would be nice for her work crew to sit around and be proud Americans today.

All the Stuff

Countless people told me about all of the baby "stuff" we would accumulate.  I think they should make a store full of baby "stuff" for condo dwellers.  If I had a 2,000 sq ft house, I would have no problem with with the bottle drying rack, sanitizing station, breast milk storage containers, etc.

Let me tell you, in 750 sq ft condo world, the only "size appropriate" item I've seen is the Baby Bullet.  God bless the makers of the magic bullet that, for some unknown reason, decided to make the world famous "Magic Bullet" only smaller.  I would like to say thank you baby bullet, not for your size, but for your intuition that not everyone has an endless supply of cabinet space.

One Month

So I think reality sunk in today. Forget all of the showers, the room decorating, the little outfits, and countless hours of advice that I've received.  It was a text message from my wife that simply wrote "Hi. Happy 'one month till your a dad' Day."  I'm not quite sure why it really scared me so much, but all I know is that everything is happening so fast and God knows I have absolutely no idea how to raise a child.

I guess I'll figure it out along the way.