What's in a name?

When I found out I was preggo one of the first things I did was go out and grab myself a baby name book.  I was so excited to talk about names.  I would spend hours with my name books and a highlighter.  It was like I was back in middle school.  I would surround myself with sheets of paper, lovingly writing out names over and over.  The only thing missing was my New Kids on the Block Trapper Keeper.  Full names, just the first, the first and the middle together.  I would write notes to the names, just to see how it looked in a sentence.  I would imagine my little one writing their names at the top of a spelling test, on an art project.  I was in love with the naming process.  I was in love, but at the same time this was a heavy responsibility- naming someone.  They are going to have that name for the rest of their lives!  I will say there was a wee bit of headiness that went along with it too. Someone should have told me that would be the last thing I would be able to control about the baby.   

Now, I am a girl who likes an unusual name.  My own name, while not unusual by any means, does have a semi-unusual spelling.  Growing up as a kid there was no getting "Kari" on a personalized key chain.  Of course looking back I am not sure why I wanted said key chain.  But I digress.  My point is when I started the naming process with my son I "tried on" several names.  I would go around for weeks at a time calling the little guy something new.  All of them unusual names and from this I learned a very important lesson.  Don't tell anyone your baby name unless you want to come face to face with the stupidest comments you will ever hear coming out of strangers, your friends, your loved ones, your family, or the mailman's mouth!  I mean it.  If I were you I wouldn't even tell your family members.  People will say the most awful things and not even realize they are being offensive.  It is amazing.

When people find out what you are having or even that you are pregnant they will inevitably say "have you thought of any names?"  Sure, it is the next logical question after "when are you due?"  And I get it, they want to know who this little person is going to be.  What I don't get is why they feel it is okay to tell you how stupid or ugly or unusual (note- this is the same as stupid when they have a pinched look on their face while saying it) your baby name is right to your face.  I mean, when they walk into a meeting at work and someone introduces their coworker- "So and So I would like you to meet my friend Wynter (one of the "strange" names I tried on for my son)."  Do you look at the person and say "Uggh, Wynter?? Really??  Wynter?"  NO!! So why on earth would you look at a pregnant, highly emotional woman, (one who could possibly bite your head off, pour a concrete slab over your insensitive body and lie straight faced to the police without blinking an eye) and say "Ugghh"  about her baby name?

I wonder.  Do people think it is okay because the name is not set in stone?  Do they think that because the baby is not here, that it is not real yet?  Better give them the benefit of the doubt and say they are not thinking at all.  Yes, better to look at their pinched faces and say "Yup, Maddox (insert your baby name here).  Uggghh, right?  But you know we really thought that torturing him with a unusual name was the way to go."  Then tuck your napkin into the front of your shirt and bite their head off.

The Stinky Eye gave him the Pinky Eye

It has finally happened.  I have been saying it was gonna happen for months now.  Mr.  Can't Keep His Hands Out Of His Pants has given himself PINK EYE!  Is there a dirtier child anywhere?  No, I don't believe so. Joy of joys, the poor boy cant go to school or see his little friend Evan- which is like water to the monsta.  Should make for an interesting week.

On a side note.  I am currently unsure if he has transmitted the dreaded gooey eyeball to me or if I am having a psycho-somatic response and that is why my eyes are itching. Just wait until he gets a load of the burning eye drops that I will be picking up from the pharmacy later.  Perchance this will get him to keep his hands from constantly fondling his junk?  Huh, long shot there.  It is going to take two parents to hold Mr. Thrashy Pants down for the eyedrops of doom.

One question.  Why is it always my kid?

Its been a hell of a day at sea sir!

It was one of those days.  Maddox has a sinus infection.  It is on the mend with antibiotics and he is better each day but still having some crankiness.  So on Friday, the day of his class Valentines Day party, it was a struggle to get him dressed and into the mindset of leaving the house.  After a couple of fits he and Daddy were off to school toting a box of heart shaped cookies and some Mickey Mouse valentines for his fellow students.  Unfortunately his day didn't pan out so well.  It went something like this...

Once at school Maddox fell on the playground and scraped his face incurring a large bump on his forehead.

If that weren't enough he proceeded to stuff a Cheerio up his nose.  It took his teacher quite some time to coax it out again.  

By the time Mommy came to pick him up he had reached his thresh hold and was OVER it all.  Several fits later he was home and out for the count.  

Nana came over to sit for him while Mommy and Daddy did date night (Yippeee!) and Maddox proceeded to lock himself and Nana in his room....for 2 hours.  Luckily Bodhi Mae was already down for the night and didn't wake up.  Mommy will take full responsibility for this one.  It was me who turned the lock around because I got tired of him locking himself in his room.  Yeahhhh, well now he locks other people in there.  

Turned out that Nana and he had gone in there to get ready for bed and my little man didn't quite feel like it so he turns, slit eyed and evil grinned, to his Nana and before she can shout "No!" he locks the door and slams it shut.  Poor Nana.  Locked in the room with the "monsta" and no way out.  Maddox evidently started to freak out after he told Nana not to worry about the locked door, "it's okay Nana, just open the door."  

"What?  Are you crazy?  You just locked us in here.  I can't open the door.  No, don't cry Maddie!  No, don't have any water.  Please stop screaming!  You are going to wake your sister!"

Like I said, two hours later and that poor woman has broken two hangers trying to jimmy the door and is contemplating peeing in the trash can.  She had to wait till Maddox had passed out to attempt her escape as everytime she tried Mad would push her out of the way, plastic screw driver in hand, claiming to be able to do a better job.  Why do I have a feeling of foreshadowing.....someday some woman is going to blame me for this behavior.  Ha! I have proof he was born this way Missy!

Well, just before Brian and I pulled into the drive she escaped.  It had been one stinker of a day.  I am wondering if she is going to come back???

Hug your babies

I just want you all to drop what you are doing and go hug your babies.  Go ahead, I will wait....now that you have hugged them tight be thankful they are healthy.  I came across this blog the other day, http://themcclenahans.blogspot.com/ and it has completely devastated me.  This couple has just lost their 11 month old little girl, Cora Paige, to cancer.  She was brought in for an ear infection and some other strange symptoms and diagnosed with cancer.  Two weeks later she was gone.  I don't know the Mcclenahans, but I can only imagine the pain that they are  in.  I haven't been able to think of much else lately.  So, all I can say is no matter how frustrating, whiny, or angry the kids might be I know that these parents would give anything to have that with their little girl.  I am going to try and remember that more often and practice more patience with my babies.  I am going to hold my babies in my arms and feel their weight and realize how fleeting these moments are.  I am going to remind myself when things are absolutely hectic and I am about to have a panic attack because I don't think I can take anymore just how empty my arms would be without my babies.  Just how much I would ache to hold them in my arms, to hear them cry, laugh or even whine...I am going to be more grateful.

Mourning sickness

Morning sickness.  In a way its wonderful.  It means you are on the beginning of a wonderful and exciting journey.  Your body is telling you that you are changing, you are fostering life.   Even your doctor will tell you it is a good sign, that your pregnancy is taking.  And then again... it is a misery.  Once the first flush and excitement abates you cant wait for this good sign to go away.  If you are anything like me you were sick to your stomach right up until you were 3 or 4 months along.  Maybe you were or are sick even longer.  My poor mother in law was sick all 9 months with both her babies.  

Bet you never thought you could be so ill that your toes, finger nails and even your hair would feel nauseous.  Even scent can even set you throwing up.  Smells you never even noticed before can make you toss your cookies.  Suddenly the world is a very stinky place.  I couldn't do the dishes without gagging, although my husband was convinced that I was making this up to get out of dish duty.  But I swear to you I could be on the freeway, windows rolled up, driving 75 miles per hour and smell the cigarette smoke from another vehicle  5 cars away!  So sick to your stomach that you cant think of anything else.  I refused to eat anything that wasn't white.  Don't ask me why, white food was the only thing that didn't sound like it was going to come right back up.  

And it really isn't morning sickness since you can have it anytime of the day or night.  I would venture to say that we should respell it mourning sickness.  Because in a very real way, no matter how excited you are to be pregnant I believe our bodies are in mourning.   We are mourning for the way our bodies used to look, our freedom, our sleep, we are mourning the loss of our sanity (damn hormones).  We are mourning because the minute before we peed on that stick was our last moment without worry.  We will never be alone again.  So our doctors can go on and on about changes in our chemistry and hormones, but I for one am under the firm belief that subconsciously we are mourning for the change in our life, no matter how exciting and joyful.  No matter how long we tried to get preggers.  

All of this being said...the minute you hear that baby cry, the moment you hold him or her in your arms your mourning sickness becomes a hazy memory, a badge of courage and honor. You will slowly begin a new kind of mourning as you realize this sweet creature you and your honey created is going to someday grow up.  That someday, all too soon, your little one wont need you like this anymore.  They wont want to be held and cuddled.  And before we turn around they will be driving off.  And that is the real mourning sickness.  So I guess I can kinda understand that Dugger woman and her 18 kids after all....

The Frustration Train

There seems to be a recurring discussion amongst my girlfriends which involves their husbands and the topic of patience.   Or rather what little we have with our children.

My own story goes something like this...

My son has been on the war path since he got up in the morning.  The day has consisted of whining, a variety of fits, refusing to eat, refusing to nap, refusing to get dressed, more fits, and finally Daddy walks through the door.  Now Mad is ecstatic to see his father so he runs to him gleefully throwing his arms around daddy's legs.  I feel like, if not necessarily look like, road kill.  So when we sit down to dinner and Maddie refuses yet again to eat and begins to whine.  I snap at him.  Its not pretty, and I am not proud of it, but it happens.  The only whine I want at that moment is Cabernet.  My dear sweet husband turns the look of disapproval on me and says aside to me that I am being a little harsh and that I would do better to practice more patience with the boy.

OH MY GOD!  I don't even want to admit to you that I lost my shizniz.  

"You try staying with the kid for 10 plus hours and see how patient you are.  You are here for 5 minutes, of course you are going to have patience with him.  Get back to me when you have put up with it for another 9 hours and 55 minutes.  You know, babe, I was a completely different person when he was acting like this first thing this morning and yet, some how, over the course of the entire day I have lost it.  So yes, right about now I am riding the frustration train.  Your son is the freakin conductor."

What I really wanted to say went something like this- "Shut up and eat the dinner that I made while holding our 6 month old on one hip while keeping your son from bludgeoning the dog to death with a foam golf club.  I am taking this bottle of Cabernet to the bathroom and will not be coming out until 1. I am a prune and 2. both these children are in bed.  Peace out!"