giggle

i didn’t write this, but i wish i had…

“When I heard that John McCain’s running mate had children named Track, Willow, Bristol, Piper, and Trig, I was floored.

“A lot of Americans, myself included, want to believe this is still the country we grew up in, a country where no one dreamed of giving their children names like Brooklyn or Rhiannon or Darcy.

“We want to believe we are still living in a country where naming children is a cultural self-preservation tactic, a means of maintaining an institutional memory of the ethnic and religious groups from which the newborn has sprung, a way of maintaining a link with a heroic past rather than a cute or ironic future.

“But that country no longer exists. American children are no longer named after prophets, warriors, healers, or cultural titans; they are named after Welsh fairies, characters in science-fiction movies, the outer boroughs of New York, and trees.”

– Joe Queenan in the Los Angeles Times

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i didn’t go home

last night, after an indulgent haircut at the local salon (what bliss to pay $30 for a head/arm massage, facial, and cut. ooooo.), i didn’t go home.

my phone must have still been sitting on the kitchen table, so i dug out two quarters from the mess of graham crackers and diapers in my purse and used a payphone. “hi, honey.” i said. “i’m not coming home.” [i didn’t feel like pulling an entire nora helmer; there is, after all, another baby on the way.]

and then i was alone in the perfect night looking beautifully styled, hoping the well-ironed locks masked the flour/applesauce mixture henry had smeared on my shirt just before i walked out the door.

i window shopped. i oohed and awed over anything i wanted to in janie and jack. i touched all the pretty china in crate and barrel. i took myself to joseph beth and sat in the bistro eating a baked brie covered in caramel and almonds while i read.

i didn’t think about kids. or dental school. or residencies. or dirty dishes. i thought about my own piles of aspirations.

it was nice to be with myself again.

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legislation and stuff

i’m scaring myself with the political nature of my blog lately. the other day i almost sort of had an actual opinion about presidential candidates. today is no different.

i heard last night that they’re pulling the controversial “mandatory paid sick leave” policy from ohio’s ballot in november. lobbyists and supporters are concerned that it will drive an already dwindling handful of businesses out of the state if it’s one of the few to have such a policy. but they’re not giving up! no! they’re taking their mandatory paid sick leave and hoping to pass a national bill.

here’s the thing. i’ve been sick for over a week. terrible icky sinus garbage. my head weighs five hundred pounds. i’m so nauseous even chocolate pudding and popcorn haven’t tempted me. i can’t breathe. i can’t lay down. i can’t stand up. (apparently, i can blog, however. thank goodness.)

and guess what, america? i don’t get sick leave. at all. period. unpaid or otherwise. in fact, if i try to leave, or at least lay down, my tiny boss comes and pokes me in the eye or drives a truck up and down my leg or sits on my stomach or pulls on my finger saying, “up, up, up.”

i’m all for sick leave–as long as everyone gets it. let’s see if obama or mccain can shoehorn that into their healthcare reform: i’m imagining little fairies who come and whisk the children away to some magical (distant) land whenever their mom is under the weather.

in the meantime, i spend every night staring at my bottle of nyquil, wondering just what sort of birth abnormality i would subject my daughter to if i took one tiny dose. would she grow another arm? three sets of wisdom teeth? hair to her little fetal buns? or would the damage be more subtle? would it mean she wouldn’t be asked to junior prom or that she wouldn’t pass her ap calc exam or that she would find chips and salsa simply unappealing?

i have to admit, there are times that i’m willing to find out….

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go ahead, name my baby

yes. it’s a girl. she’s a she. there’s a her in me.

and, i’m not going to lie, i wanted a girl. i wanted to know right now that i’m not going to have three… four… (okay, i would stop after four) boys in a row. i can’t explain, really, this need to have girls. (does everyone have it?) it’s not that i think rambunctiousness is divided along gender lines. and it’s not that i think puberty with a girl is going to be oh-so-much-fun. it’s… it’s… it’s just that i want a girl. (and, for the record, with henry, i wanted a boy.)

so she’s coming. she’s adorable and relaxed. she rarely kicks. she spends every ultrasound curled up in the fetal position. (well, she is a fetus). in fact, this pregnancy has been so easy-going i forget for hours at a time that there’s anyone in there at all.

well, now that i’ve rambled, let’s get the crux of the matter. i’m at a loss when it comes to naming girls. it just seems so much more complicated to me than naming boys. so, i’m going to let you have a go at it. really. name my baby. you just have to follow a few simple rules. (of course i have rules.)

1. no androgynous names.
her kindergarten teacher needs to be able to look at the roll and know absolutely, unequivocally that  someone curtis is a girl.

2. no messing with the alphabet.
i’m not in the camp of people who find that Hs can be thrown in at random, Ys can replace vowels, and Ks somehow make words more feminine.

3. no names from the top ten list of the social security administration.

4. (this is the tricky rule) there has to be a book where a girl with this name appears.
this doesn’t mean that she has to be the main character, but she does have to be a “good guy”–for henry we have the henry series by beverly cleary–i just think it’s important for a kid to pick up a book and get the chance to think, “hey, that person’s a little like me and we share a name”–i mean, where would i have been in life if one of the babysitter’s club hadn’t been named jessica?

there you have it. take a crack. if you name my baby, you just might win a prize. and if you need some inspiration, check out laura wattenberg’s baby name wizard blog. she is the genius of naming.

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parenting success

i called my sister and told her i had a Parenting Success. she asked if there is such a thing.

oh, there is.

little hal, lately, has been throwing all his food on the floor. i’ve scolded, i’ve frowned, i’ve ignored, i’ve punished (ok, i’m not good at “punishing”). finally the light went on. i pulled the garbage can next to his little booster chair and said, “darling hal, when you’re finished with the food, put it in here.” he grinned. he gleefully tossed everything on his tray into the can. he begged for another biscuit, ripped it into small pieces, and chucked it in on top of his white bean soup. he laughed derisively.

he now asks for the garbage can when finished with a meal.

and that, my friends, is a Parenting Success.

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