Bee-stung Pouty Lips That Would Make Hollywood Jealous




She's already got the pout figured out

 Just when you thought we hit a lull in the baby blog, here comes all this exciting news!

            Like, for starters, I think we’re going to have to name sweet Baby Readling something along the lines of Angelina Jolie Lisa Rinna Readling. After the latest ultrasound that seems to be the only fair way to go.

People pay good money to look like Angelina...

      All I know is we were sitting there, minding our own business. I was sitting on the little chair they make father-to-be sit on, trying to remain upright. The Reparations Chair I like to call it, as it seems like punishment I have to endure for the crime of making my wife go through 9 months of hormones, weight gain, discomfort, hormones, warped feet and hormones. To be honest, we both have to deal with the hormones, so the Reparations Chair is really unjustified.

       Anyway, I’m teetering on the brink of falling on the cold floor and she’s all stretched out with the squooshy gel all over her belly. That’s when the experienced and very professional ultrasound tech lets loose with this… “Well, everything looks very good and, oh my, LOOK at those lips. They’re so big. I don’t think I’ve ever seen lips like that on a baby before.”

            So, we both crane our necks a little closer to the big screen monitor and there they are, clear as day, a pre-natal Collagen ad.

...But sometimes they come out looking like Lisa

 Once we calmed down from the shock of our daughter, the future Dizzy Gillespie, the tech broke out with some even more fun information.

            Baby’s weight at 30 weeks: 4 pounds, 3 ounces.

            Melissa’s jaw almost hit the ground and her eyes started spinning as you could see the calculations going through her mind. 4 pounds, 3 ounces with around 8-10 weeks to go. Most of the baby’s weight comes in the final few weeks. 4 pounds, 3 ounces times 2 = 8 pounds, 6 ounces. 8 pounds, 6 ounces squeezing out of a 2.3-pound wide hole. Think of the pain. The pain! What happened to my 6-pound baby? The pain! Can we get it out early? What if she’s late? 4 pounds, 3 ounces times 3 = 12 pounds, 9 ounces = Oh. My. God. 

Then she just laid back and started laughing maniacally. But it was one of those uncomfortable laughs like you don’t know what else to do, but people are watching, so I have to do something, I guess I’ll laugh.

I guess that’s all you can really do when faced with the prospect of everything going smoothly on the day of the birth…until those lips get hung up on something important on the way out.

Lindsay says "Smooches"!

           

BELL-AYYYYYYYY

There is an added bonus to this whole pregnancy thing…Melissa’s belly.

Not only is it big enough to make watching her try to walk through doorways more hilarious than I had ever imagined, but it provides hours of entertainment. I mean, this is like The Jeffersons plus All In The Family plus The Beverly Hillbillies multiplied by The Big Bang Theory. With some Mork and Mindy thrown in for fun!

Maybe we'll name the baby Elly Mae...

I first learned of all the belly fun at Halloween. That’s when Alex, our local artiste, showed up and painted it up like a pumpkin. We then fit the nice, new pumpkin into a hole Melissa cut in a pair of overalls that were either laying around, or someone left here when they visited. Then she walked around all night looking like a farmer holding a pumpkin plucked fresh from her patch. Very fun! I, on the other hand, being un-pregnant, was forced to go as a flashing banana and rub my exposed banana-ness all over whoever happened to be standing in front of me. Luckily, it was girls most of the time.

Lesson No. 1: If you’re going to be pregnant, make sure you’re pretty far into it around Halloween. The farther, the better.

Another thing I’ve learned about big bellies is they’re just fun to look at.

Pumpkin on the left, Amber on the right

I’ll be in the kitchen, slaving over another hot gourmet dinner (anything to keep the mother of my child healthy and satisfied), when I’ll look over and watch her just stare at her belly. It’s not like there isn’t anything else going on. We have a backyard full of jumping fish, three cats that like to do stupid cat things and, most of the time, the TV is on. There’s usually some sort of crap on that she likes to watch, like Aces of Cakes, or Extreme Dresser Makeovers or Being In Jail With Crips and Bloods, but she just stares at her belly. It’s like she’s waiting for the exact moment her belly button pops so she doesn’t miss it. I would think the KER-THUNK that sucker is going to make when it goes would be enough, but she apparently wants to watch it happen.

I used to wonder what in the living hell she was doing, until one day I put down the spoon I was using to stir the Cup O’ Noodles and asked her what she was doing.

“Watching for when she kicks,” is what she said. “You can see it when she kicks.”

Well, first of all, no you can’t (at least at that point, which was around 23 weeks, you couldn’t). Second of all, I stood there for about 10 minutes and waited for her to kick which, apparently she did once or twice, just not in a visible manner. The entire time, thoughts like “a watched pot never boils” were running through my mind. Yes, the Cup O’ Noodles was in peril, but this was an important step in my pregnancy. So I thought. Turns out…it wasn’t. And the gourmet Cup O’ Noodle Casserole burned. Have I mentioned how much I like Big Apple Pizza?

Now that we’re around 28 weeks, you can see little, itty bitty thumps. If you watch real carefully and have had enough beer and have been staring straight into a 100 watt light bulb for 5 minutes.

Backyard jumpin' fish (I wish)

In any case, it’s fun to watch her be so mesmerized by her belly. It’s not like we have DirecTV in two rooms, or anything. Or an iPod. Or a Wii. Or a BACKYARD FULL OF JUMPING FISH.

Another favorite Melissa pastime is laying on her back and pretending her belly is Mt. Everest as she walks those little green Army men up, making them stop at different base camps so as to not get too sick. Okay, not really. What she really likes to do is rub that Burt’s Bees lotion on her belly so she doesn’t get stretch marks. CORRECTION: Turns out it’s Johnson’s Baby Creamy cocoa and shea butter she likes. I still like typing Burt’s Bees, so that part is staying in. And I just got to type it again!  I told her I think stretch marks are a sign of accomplishment. She says “no”. But, then again, she stares at her belly like it’s a drive-in with quadrophonic speakers. What does she know?



Looking for a sherpa



I also like to watch her try to roll over in bed. It takes about 10 minutes per roll and is accompanied with a fair amount of groaning, followed by a big, heavy sigh of relief.

My FAVORITE part of the whole belly thing is every morning I can wake up, put my hand over on some quadrant of her belly and feel Baby R kick. It’s sooooo cool. One day, I felt the baby kick on the right side, do some sort of somersault flip thing, and then start kicking on the left side. Very strange, but very cool. Especially for someone who had never felt a baby kick before.

It could be the best thing I do every day. And I can’t wait for it to get better and better as the baby grows.

Speaking of growth, here’s one of my favorite updates. According to one of those crazy baby information sites that Melissa has emailed to her by the thousands each day, the baby is now about 2 pounds (1 pound, 15 ounces, last I heard from a real, live person paid to talk to us in the place of a real, live doctor), which equivocates to the size of a…are you ready?...English hot house cucumber.

Really?? An English hot house cucumber? Can’t they just say a stick of pepperoni?

Scarier still: If you do a Google Image search for English Hot House Cucumber, you get a bunch of images of unborn babies.

Self explanatory

The Coolest Baby Picture Ever (and a snot sucker update)

            One thing is for sure, the more Melissa’s belly grows, the better the pictures get. And I don’t just mean the ones of her right after she wakes up and her belly is hanging out the bottom of the t-shirt she slept in. Although those are pretty good, too.

            We went to the baby doctor on Friday and got our first look at a 4D ultrasound shot of Baby Readling in the womb. Freaky.

            It was a typical ultrasound with plenty of gray and shadowy things that may or may not be arms or hands. As usual, the probe would find the baby in the right spot and we could see really clearly the spine and ribs and the little heart beating a 100 mph. She has really long legs and likes to move her arms around. On this particular day she had the hiccups and we all had a good time watching her whole body (all 1 pound, 15 ounces of it) jump every time she hiccupped.

            Then the tech hit a button and everything went from gray and shadowy to bright and clearer than anything you can imagine. It was like someone pulled a chain and turned on a light inside of Melissa.

            It was then that we saw some of the coolest pictures ever.

            You can clearly see the baby’s left arm pressed up against the back of her head, complete with a little fist. We could even see ripples in the skin on her arm. There is the top of her knee and most of her upper torso. You can’t see her face because it’s turned away from the probe, snuggled comfortably in the placenta wall. Weren't THOSE the good ol’ days!

            Totally amazing.

Baby Readling chillin' in her placental home

            According to the ultrasound tech, she’s is the perfect size, though she’s gonna start booming in the next couple weeks. At 26 weeks she weighs just under 2 pounds, which means she’s got about 5-6 more pounds to put on the next 14 weeks. That also means Melissa needs to find some bigger t-shirts to sleep in because, if baby gets bigger, so does mommy. Exponentially!

            In the meantime, we got to finish registering at Babies R’Us (at least I did). Hopefully, I won’t ever have to go in there again. They did have some nice Miami Dolphins cheerleader outfits, which I got to run the gun on several times. Other than that, I’m learning real quick that manufacturing and selling baby implements is one hell of a scam.

            What other kind of business can you make something for $1, sell it for $19.50 and then turn around and sell the same thing (only one size bigger) for another $19.50 after the baby grows out of it at 3 months? That’s $40 worth of clothes that she most likely won’t fit into six months after she’s born.

            The rally cry the whole way through the store, as mulled over strollers, high chairs, pack-n-plays and wipe warmers, was “Do we have everything we need to get her home safely from the hospital and through the first night?” I figured, if we can get her that far, we can make a quick list in the morning and run out and buy whatever we need all of a sudden.

            One update: It turns out they give you a snot sucker at the hospital! I guess they don’t feel like recycling those. Who knew?

            Whatever….we’ll take it!

Can't We Just Call a Snot Sucker a Snot Sucker?

Hell!

         
           
For a truly humbling experience, you should take a little stroll through the baby department in your nearest Target. It’s quite fun, what with all the light blues and pinks and duckies, and bunnies and lady bugs.



Evil smile

There are pictures of smiling babies doing everything from bathing to sitting up, to crawling to pooping their brand new, snuggable diapers. You can tell they’re pooping because the ones on the diaper boxes always have the most evil smiles.

You can get lost in the array of bottles and bottle cleaners, soaps, lotions, bibs (my God! The bibs!), formula, binkies, teethers and a whole bunch of other things that are meant to go in (or keep things out of) your baby’s mouth.

If you look in the right section, you can even catch a glimpse of a boob. Or multiple glimpses if you’re wife isn’t looking.

At the end of the aisles stretches a whole other section which is, basically, an infant vehicle showroom. There are strollers with 8 wheels, three wheels, covers, no covers, covers with windows, recliners, cup holders, Cheerio holders and even one that had an iPod dock so you can listen to Shania Twain while you’re pushing your poopy spawn through the mall.

           

Yes, that's really an iPod dock

 It’s all very fun and exciting. And, if you’re registering for stuff you don’t want to buy, but will take for free from friends (as we were), they even give you a gun to scan your would-be booty with. I should say they give the daddy-to-be the gun because I saw four or five other couples registering and the guy was always the one with the gun. It's hunting and gathering in a whole new, sterile, ducky-filled, technological level. Although, in part because this is Martin County, there was one guy who was wearing camouflage. He didn’t want the 3-6 month, bluebird-designed Nuk to get away, I guess.

A Nuk, by the way, is something you stick in the baby’s mouth when they start crying too much. Shuts them right up and causes their front teeth to become buck teeth when they grow up. But it’s worth it because it shuts them up. Some even have the ability to put medicine (or whiskey, your choice) in the Nuk handle so the kid is sucking it up, all the while ruining their orthodontal future.



Just add Jack Dan...,um, children's medicine



Speaking of things that aren’t called what they should be…snot suckers are actually called newborn nasal aspirators. Do you think new parents actually ask each other to pass the newborn nasal aspirator? NO!!! They say, “Where in the hell is that snot sucker?” as they crawl around on their hands and knees, looking under the couch, or behind the toilet.

That said, this whole registering this is simple, right?

Lesson 1: Bottles.

What looks like
a standard
bottle.

There are soooooooooo many bottles and they come in every shape and size imaginable. You can get a straight one, or one that’s bent in the middle (I don’t know why). Some have bags in them. Some say they prevent colic. Some say lower air intake. There are different ones for newborns and those 3-6 months old and those older than that.

Yes, we were overwhelmed by baby bottles. Sad.

But that was only the beginning.

This may as well be a Ferrari

Lesson 2: Picking a stroller is equivalent to buying a car. They all have different features (although the easy-to-fold ones are still rarely that) and they all have pro’s and con’s. Snap-and-go. Britax, Graco. It was explained to us that some are better for traveling, some are better for exercising and some are better for, say, Disney World. Or the mall. Or walking around Babies R’ Us as you finish registering for stuff you should have registered for before she was born, but simply ran out of time.  



None are easy to choose.

Lesson 3: Diapers. Nice and easy, right? Go find the one that says “Newborn” and buy that for her for right after she’s born. 3-6 months is for when she’s 3-6 months. 6-18 months, etc. Basically, Huggies and Pampers have a stranglehold on the U.S. diaper industry, so you go with one of them. And, oh, by the way, none of those numbers mean a DAMNED thing. Your kid could be 4 months and be in the 6-18 month diapers. Or she could be 9 months and be in the 3-6 month diapers. It's nice that they spent the ink to confuse us though. We picked up two packages of Pampers because they were on sale and you got a $10 gift card with the purchase.

This is a shot in the dark

After carrying them around for about 45 minutes, a woman who was shopping with her bald 8-month old, stopped us and asked if this was our first baby. She then proceeded to tell us how Pampers gave her child a rash and all she could wear were Huggies and this is why and blah blah blah blah. It’s weird that people feel they have the right to talk to you just because they have a kid and you’re on your way. But she was helpful. I guess.

So we turned around and picked up two packages of Huggies which, luckily, came with the same $10 gift card and were also on sale. We still don’t know how the baby will react to them, but at least we have 304 to test on her.

The problem is, unlike registering for your wedding, where all you do is run around Bed, Bath and Beyond with a gun and shoot cool things like shot glass combo sets, barware and bath towels. Or stroll through Dillards and scan in crazy China patterns, leopard print silk sheets and silverware sets (20 percent of you won’t be able to find 5 years later), there is actually a degree of responsibility when doing this baby thing.

I mean, you can’t be registering for a bib that says “Cool Dude” in big blue letters, when you’re having a girl. That’s just not right. More importantly, you have to make sure the things you do scan in will actually be helpful when the baby gets here. And they have to match when you get them home. You don't want a mismatched pack-n-play, high chair and baby seat, do you? That's just tacky.

For the record, it was one and a half hours in Target on Saturday and more than an hour in Babies R’ Us on Sunday, in which we only covered about 1/8^th of the store before we had to go watch the Dolphins play one of the worst games of the season.

Despite Chad Henne's inability to complete a pass to a guy in a white jersey, I would have rather gone hoarse yelling obscenities at a big screen TV, than trying to figure out which snot sucker I'm going to lose behind the toilet.

Doesn't this look fun?

           

           

Fetal hearts, blimps and baby Think Tanks bent on world destruction



Head, face, etc. The two dark spots are stomach and gall bladder (no, she didn't eat a bowling ball)



It’s been while since we’ve given just a simple baby update and, after seeing the doctor last week, this is probably as good a time as any.

So far, Baby R is about 11 inches long. For those of you vegetarians out there, that’s the length of a healthy spaghetti squash. Total weight – 1 pound!! Okay, so it’s a long and scrawny spaghetti squash. It’s just for reference, all right??

The more interesting fact is: Total Melissa weight put on around that one pound – 19 pounds. But it’s okay, 2 pounds is placenta, 2 is amniotic fluid and the other 15 is ice cream, hamburgers, Yoo-hoo and low-fat potato chips. So we can account for it and that’s all that counts.

 

12 weeks


Actually, everything is cool. The doctor said there is nothing to be worried about and that she was gaining weight at a nice rate. That still doesn’t stop her from asking every time we go near a doctor (even if he’s in the drive-thru in front of us at the ice cream/hamburger/yoo-hoo store) if it’s all right that she’s gained 20 pounds in 22 weeks. They all say “you’re fine” and then speed away before she can sit on them.

At this point in the pregnancy, Baby R is becoming more and more dangerous. Teeth are beginning to form and the kung fu dance she enjoys right before bed and anytime after Melissa dumps a bunch of food in on top of her is picking up steam. I even got to feel one of her more emphatic kicks the other night.

 

Some other things that are happening are the formation of eyelids and irises, which will eventually provide color to the most beautiful eyes in world. The pancreas is beginning to form, which is vital to the production of hormones, which will no doubt drive me crazy in about 12 years.

The doctor visit focused on the heart, so we got quite a show, thanks to the ultrasound. The heartbeat is still around 156 per minute. That’s A LOT. And it sounds really cool with the underwater effect produced by Melissa’s uterus.

We got to see the four chambers of the heart and the blood flow in and out of those chambers. There is a tissue called the Ductus Arteriosus, which is open now (and quite clear on the monitor) and will close forever as soon as Baby R takes her first breath.



16 Weeks



 

We also saw the aortic arch, which is the main artery from the heart to the rest of the body. And it looked just like a candy cane. As it should. All in all, very cool and very helpful because it doesn’t look like there are any issues at this point.

On another note, there are a few other things we’ve been warned to expect. Mostly these come from international baby Think Tanks disguised as “helpful” baby internet sites that bribe you with free coupons until you give up your due date. They then send you electronic missives every week, telling you “important” things about your body and what you can expect in the coming week. They are the ones who began comparing children to produce, so you can keep track of its size. It’s their way of controlling pregnant people’s minds in their ultimate goal to take over the world, thanks to an army of like-minded mommies.

This particular Think Tank is called The Baby Center. Well, it goes by Baby Center because Influencing Mommies For World Domination doesn’t click. Plus the initials IMFWD don’t lend themselves to a cool nickname.



22 weeks



  

In any case, the Baby Center propaganda of the week is what to expect during and after your pregnancy. Or 42 Things That Change When You Have a Baby. One of those. Whatever.  Here are some jewels:

1. You finally stop to smell the roses, because your baby is in your arms.
2. You respect your body ... finally.
3. Bodily functions are no longer repulsive. In fact, they please you. (Hooray for poop!)

Hooray for poop?? Really?



4. "You give parents with a screaming child an 'I-know-the-feeling' look instead of a 'Can't-they-shut-him-up?' one."

        5. "You learn that taking a shower is a luxury."

Just to prove that the Baby Center Think Tank is in full gear and taking effect, those last two comments were posted by “Jaidyn’s mom” and “Jayden’s mom”. Obviously two members of the Jayden Battalion, thinly disguised by one of them not being able to spell. There are a lot of “Anon.” listed as well.

I figure they must be the foot soldiers in this take-over-the-world scheme.

 

30 weeks. Just a projection, of course.







Boys Don't Ever Want To "Just Talk" (and other sage advice)

It’s never too early to begin thinking of lessons you want to, or hope to, teach your children. Sure, they may be 11 inches long and weigh a whole pound, but there’s never a better time to start your planning.

Plus, I was stuck in the passengers seat of Melissa’s car while she drove erratically up I-95 to Orlando. Oh! And it was easier to think of potential life lessons than picture exactly how high we’re going to careen off the back of that Honda Civic when she finally misjudges and clips the bumper.

So, here are a few things I came up with that I think could be helpful for young Baby R. And, just so they sink in completely, I plan on passing them along to her during both months that she’s old enough to understand what I’m saying and still actually paying some sort of attention to me.

In no particular order…

• Don’t order a hot dog in a seafood place. It’s a seafood place for a reason. Conversely, don’t order seafood in a hot dog place.




Too drunk to walk...


• These are legacy tips, passed from my father to me days before they sent me off to the University of Alabama for the first time: Don’t buy the cereal because of the prize inside; And, if you’re too drunk too walk, you’re too drunk to drive. So don’t.

• If mommy says “No”, ask daddy.
• Don’t mess with people’s hearts and don’t put up with people who mess with yours.
• Boys don’t ever want to “just talk”.
• There is truth in Jimmy Buffett music.
• Regardless of what Grandma says, do NOT take Ziploc bags in your purse to all-you-can-eat buffets.
• Tip well.



Problem solved!

• Sitting on the beach, on a nice, fuzzy blanket and simply staring at the ocean can solve most problems.

• There are two 12:15’s every day. Nothing good ever happens between the first one and sunrise.
• Key West is cool. Islamorada is cooler.
• Travel every chance you get. Go far. Stay long. (Not too long, daddy will miss you).
• BBQ is always better from the guy on the side of the road, cooking in a cut-away 55-gallon drum.
• Dale Earnhardt is the best racecar driver of all-time, no matter what those Jimmie Johnson fans try to tell you.



I hope she saved the receipt


• Panties should not resemble slingshots. If they do, return them and buy some with a wasteband.

• Don’t ride the cats.
• Fishing with daddy is cool no matter what your friends say.
• Karma is a real thing. Stay on the good side.
• Don’t drive and text.
• Learn another language.
• Walk out the same door you walked in. It’s called “sneaking out the back door” for a reason and, if you feel the need to do that, you shouldn’t have done whatever you did.
• Don’t make fun of people who are talking to themselves. They may be the smartest people around and have to talk to themselves because they are the only ones who can understand what they’re trying to say.
• Spontaneity is important. Even if it’s planned.



Okay, they make them for adults, but you look like the this.


• Enjoy feety pajamas while you can…they don’t make them for adults.



• Don’t tackle snowmen. They may be built around a stump.
• There is nothing wrong with being the smartest person in the room. Just don’t flaunt it. If you’re really that smart, they’ll figure it out eventually.
• You are free to pick out your own clothes…right up until the first night you go out with a boy. Then it’s my turn.
• There is beauty in a baseball game.
• Daddy is always right.

Fruit Update: She's a Banana

We've reached the 20-week mark, which means Melissa is halfway through. And she’s only cried 1,296 times. So, we’re right on target.

Hormones are raging. Unfortunately, they’re not raging in a teenaged, make-out-behind-every-door kind of way. It’s more of an I’m-not-gonna-let-Mike-sleep-because-I’m-reall-emotional kind of way. Because she’s crazy.

But it’s normal and to be expected. I know because I checked with every other person I know who’s pregnant right now and they confirmed that it is indeed normal and she is right on track. In the interest of fair reporting, I checked with all their husbands, too, but none of them could answer me because they were all trying to catch up on some sleep while their wives talked to me.

All in all, Melissa is hanging in quite nicely. She’s got those jeans with the stretchy waist bands and big fluffy shirts, so she looks pregnant, even if she’s successfully covering up her pregnancy. Apparently that’s what pregnant women do.

The baby is rolling right along as well. According to all the people who know these things, she’s the size of a banana. And, since we’re in the 20^th week, we get to start measuring her from head to toe, as opposed to crown to rump. That’s because she’s starting to stretch out her legs, which is confirmed by the occasional “Oooooo, ouch” from Melissa when baby stretches out her legs too much. So, head to toe! Crown to rump is so 19 weeks.

Some more cool 20-week baby things: She’s starting to swallow now and figuring out what her digestive tract is for. I know most of the 3 people who read this blog don’t have ultrasound machines at home, so if you want an idea of how this looks, pick up a banana and pretend it’s swallowing for the first time. And kicking its legs.

What a banana kicking its legs might look like

She is also beginning to accumulate a black gooey substance in her bowels, which will greet Dear Melissa when she changes the first couple of diapers. I could go real in depth on this, but I think I won’t. Just be glad you won’t be here for the first couple of diapers. I’ll take pictures though and send them on my phone. Did I mention it was Melissa changing those first couple diapers?

All the information you read on the internet and your iPhone and your Blackberry say the mother should have gained about 10 pounds by

now. So we’ll, ahem, go with that. Yes! Melissa has gained, um, 10 pounds so far.

Saved by a hamburger IV!! Thank God!

For the record, on the internet, I also found stories about UFO’s landing in London, a special hamburger drip feed that saved the world’s fattest man, a story about four-foot high speed bumps which solve inner city traffic problems and something about the University of Florida having a football team this season. So, obviously, we can believe EVERYTHING we read on the internet. 10 pounds.

Halfway through and, so far, it’s been very cool. We’ve gone from a blueberry to a banana (passing an entire vegetable section in the meantime), passed morning sickness, heard the heartbeat for the first time, saw the first kick and learned many lessons on what foods give pregnant people heartburn.

What more could you ask for?

In honor of Larhonda Griselda Gamaliel Dinnius Martell Uther Symington

One of the biggest tasks parents-to-be have is figuring out what to name their incoming poop machine.

            Luckily, Melissa and I got the biggest step out of the way when the doctor told us our “it” was going to be a “girl”. He didn’t bother to give any advice on how a 54-year old father should deal with his 17-year old daughter, but I noticed he had some beer coupons in his desk. Right under the ear plugs.

In any case, it’s really nice to know it’s a girl. I wasn’t really looking forward to my 50’s or 60’s anyway. And now I have the chance to plan on having a pre-teen, tween-aged and teenaged girl during those years. So I have a running start!



A 54-year old father's nightmare



More importantly, now that we know she’s going to be a she, we can come up with proper name. There’s nothing more embarrassing than settling on the name Jessica Marie, only to have a son pop out. I mean, it would be terrible for him to get beat up all those years at school with a silly name like that. Totally uncalled for.



            So, it’s a girl. Good start. The next thing is coming up with a name that is dignified, sensible and not open to getting her beat up at school. Granted, you can always go the safe route and choose Tracy. Or Alex. Or Addison. They can go both ways. But we choose to live closer to the edge.

You also have to make sure the name you pick doesn’t lead to questionable initials: Henrietta Ophelia Readling – HOR – or Barrimore Angelique Readling – BAR, for example.  Or, my favorite, Larinda Yvonne Readling – LYR.

            See! It takes a lot more thought than you realize.

            To that end, I now find myself scouring anything and everything for good names. You listen to names on TV and the radio. You pull names off the fronts of magazines. I find myself reading waitresses nametags for ideas. Yeah, I always did that anyway, but only because it was good excuse to stare at breasts. Now, I’m actually paying attention.

            Then, of course, there is the help you get from outside. Two women at work decided I could name her Mary Susan. Or Susan Mary. Susan and Mary said they didn’t really care which way it went.

Alex brought over a book with 30,000 names in it. And we can’t thank her enough. No, really. We can’t. It’s 6 inches thick and weighs 17 pounds. What’s even better is the fact all those names have meanings. For example, did you know Kallirroe means “beautiful stream” and that the name Delphin is born from a 4^th century saint who was bishop of Bourdeaux, or that Pepper is a named derived from the name “of a pungent spice”? Very helpful, to say the least.

            My mother has sent in her suggestions via email: Henrietta was one. So was Penelope. And Maura and Laurel.



What an Oua'Neisha might look like (at least according to Google Image Search)



            Mumsy and my sister even donated some special family heirlooms, which could help us decide on a name. First, a little history: For years, my mother would scour the Births section of the newspaper (both in Jupiter and Orlando), looking for, um, unique names. Ahem, unique, names like (and I’m just choosing randomly here) Consolatrix, Harbhajan, Oua’Neisha and Rickxon. There are also very helpful comments in these books. Such as: Hardat (this kid is hardat work) and Haybat (how his father calls his mother).

             Anyway, they put together not one, but two, 50-plus page lists (compiled by Mother Dearest, edited and published by Sister Darling), which have been donated to Melissa and I. They are titled Sally’s Name Your Chillin Book and are very helpful, as is most everything my mother does for me. Part of writing a blog is the unrivaled ability to suck up to your parents, thereby ensuring better Christmas presents. Sorry, Sarah.

             Needless to say, with all this help, we should have a baby name in no time at all. That doesn’t mean there’s an announcement upcoming, or anything like that, I’m just saying if you catch me staring at the chest of some college girl who happens to be bringing me food, lay off, I’m just researching baby names.





Seriously!! All she's missing is a name tag!



And The Verdict Is...

Baby High Five

We're into Week 17, which meant another trip to the ultrasound doctor and THAT meant another chance to see baby up close. I'm seriously considering buying an ultrasound machine for home, just because it makes for such cool TV.

The baby is 4 inches from crown to rump, 8 inches overall and weighs a whopping 8 ounces. For all you vegetarians out there, the book described it as the size of a turnip. I'm not a big turnip guy, so we're going with medium-sized tomato. In any case, the baby is big enough now that they can do a bunch of measurements. After hearing that the legs made up half the body, I immediately started researching basketball schoalrships at Duke. Apparently, everything will even out, however, and I will end up paying for college after all. Anyway, all the measurements were normal. Head is good, heart has four chambers (we got to see the blood move in and out), there's a top lip, two ears (one on each side, which was good hear. No pun intended), a nose, stomach on the correct side, gall bladder, two kidneys, ten fingers, ten toes and a perfect little spine. Oh!! And a vagina.

This will help you out NONE. The way it was described to me was "Imagine your baby is sitting on a toilet and you're in the bowl, looking up. That's what this view is." There are apparently three lines which show up pretty well in this shot that say my 50's will be ruined by a teenaged girl.

Yes, the darling little princess is going to be a girl, which is kind of good because the only baby names Melissa and I have ever discussed have been girl's names. Ever. And it would have been embarassing to run around with a boy named Gabriella. Not that we're naming it that, but you get the idea.

The best news is now Melissa knows what color to paint the baby's room when we get a house with a baby's room in it. And she can start buying girls clothes. Thank God! Our long national nightmare of her not being able to shop is over!!

It was also good news because the Habitat for Humanity office is full of pink stuff for their Women Builds and my boss and co-worker, Peggy, immediately appropriated some of that for my office. So, I now have pink curtains and a "Girl Power, Girls Build" shirt which fit the big overstuffed teddy bear Margot got me a few weeks ago and currently holds down my printer.


Girl Bear!!



Curtains!!!





The other good news is Melissa's morning sickness seems to have passed and she's into the "fun" part of pregnancy. You know, the part where you're not too big to fit through a door, but still able to eat whatever you want because you're pregnant. Last night she discovered Baby Girl likes Yoo-Hoo. She drank one of the drink boxes and the baby immediately started kicking around. Which she loved! I don't think anyone has ever had as much Yoo-Hoo in one day as Melissa did today.




Another cool deal was Melissa felt the baby move for the first time yesterday while we were at the doctor. The tech had the ultrasound on her (baby on TV) and said "THAT was a good one." Melissa asked if that was the baby kicking and the woman said "Yes. And it was a strong one." The coolest thing was I got to watch it on the screen. So, when she felt her first kick, I got to see it. It was more like a whole body spasm, but it was still fun to watch.