I've got good news and bad news

It's really cute. Every day I pick Girlie up from school and she says, "Do you want to hear the exciting news or the bad news first?" I always ask for the good news. She tells me, then she'll say, "There's actually no bad news."

My parents came to visit us for a week--the first time since we've moved here (thanks to the 50 or so family weddings that happened in our first 1 1/2 years here). We lived in Vancouver, British Columbia for three years when I was young, so we all headed three hours north to our old stomping grounds.

Good news: We got to visit my old first grade school.

Bad news: While we were there, Little Buddy smacked his forehead on some bricks, and the gash required stitches. We spent the afternoon in the ER. Facial lacerations on my kids and foreign medicine=two of my biggest fears.

Bad news: Clearly, this trip was not turning out as I planned. I don't look amused, going on three hours in the waiting room.

Good news: At least I got pictures.

Bad news: Our medical detour cost almost $900.

Good news: This happened before the healthcare overhaul, and our insurance covered it all.

Good news: We got to see alot. Along with Gastown (my kids snickered at that name) and Chinatown, we saw

Granville Island

My wonderful parents

Good news: Since we had others with us, we actually got pictures of our whole family!

Totem poles at Stanley Park

And another one.

With my dad (looking at Olympics stuff across the harbor) my brother.

Visited a salmon hatchery

Queen Elizabeth Park. Beautiful gardens, fountains.

Stopped to visit Deception Pass (Washington) on our way back to Seattle.

Bad news: As soon as we got back, we realized Sammy had a fever.

More bad news: It hit 104 and lasted a week. And ended up being tonsilitis and an ear infection. And we didn't get to do any Seattle fun with my family because I had to nurse "Sickie and Stitch", as J nicknamed them.

Good news: We still had lots of fun in the evenings and at least we got to see them.

More good news: It's been long enough now that it's not quite so painful to talk about.

Belly

Today I very optimistically bought a bunch of seeds. Optimistic on two levels: 1--I expect amazing produce to spring from these seeds, and 2--I expect that when our late May/June planting season arrives that I will not be too huge and exhausted to get down in the dirt and plant some. And then weed. And water. And harvest.

The guy at the cash register smiled and said, "You're baby's comin' soon, huh?"
I smiled and shrugged, "...kind of."
"April?" he guessed.
"June, actually."
"Whoa!! Big baby."

Okay, seriously.

I shrugged again and smiled congenially. "I don't know what to say to that."
"No, I mean...healthy. Yeah, healthy. That's good!"

I don't know if it is 'good' that people think I'm due next month. In any case, there's nothing I can do about it. At my doctor's appointment a month ago, I was told to 'keep an eye on' my weight, since it was about a 10 lb gain. I can tell you where that 10 lbs went--straight to my tush. I get booty when I'm pregnant, and still can't figure out how to deal with it, short of duct taping myself together back there. I've come very close.

This is the thing, though. I don't really mind now. You see, this is my (presumably) last child. This will be the last time in my life that I can eat what I want and not give it another thought. I'm going to be watching my food intake for the rest of my life. So, forgive me, I'm going to enjoy every minute. This whole eating business is one of the best parts of pregnancy. A couple days ago I took Sammy our for a frosty as a reward for something. As we sat in Wendy's, I realized that I needed fast food. Now. Needed it. And not some salad or grilled chicken sandwich, or anything else that I could pretend was quasi-healthy. Like, give me a double cheeseburger and fries. Arby's curly fries, to be exact. It took every ounce of my will power (and the thought that the next day would be 'weigh-in'--a.k.a. doctor's visit) to walk out empty handed and drive straight home.

At my appointment I tried to beat the nurse to the scale, so I could position myself in optimal weigh-in stance--leaning back just a little on my heels to make myself 1/2 a pound lighter, like I practiced on my scale at home. Unfortunately for me, the doctor's scale was just a little smarter than my home version. Fortunately, though, I gained only two pounds last month, despite the fact that the only difference in my eating was that I ran out of Tillamook Udderly Chocolate ice cream. I rewarded myself by visiting the Arby's drive-thru on the way home.

I've decided my body lies in the hands of fate. While pregnant, it will just do what it wants to, leaving me to worry about things that I can control. Like these (imagine me circling my unruly, neglected eyebrows).

Otherwise, I feel fantastic. As in, 2-hour-hikes fantastic. I'm enjoying this Just-a-Little-Tired stage between Sick and Huge. And so, since I'm in the market, any guilty pleasure foods you recommend? I've got three months.

A Rose By Any Other Name

We've come to that stage again. Where, now knowing the gender, discussion turns to the naming of our offspring. Or rather, I come up with a plethora of delighful and charming names and J shoots them down.

"Yeah, maybe if she were 80."
"Yeah, maybe if she were a hooker."
"Okay, that one is just weird--where did you even come up with that?"

And so on. I'm not going to tell you any of the names that preceeded these responses--surely I'd offend someone. I will just say I didn't suggest any names of friends of mine, so it's not your name. Unless you read this blog and I don't know you and you have an unusual name, then it might be. I don't want an overused name, he doesn't want it too weird. It would be nice to have some significance for us, but he's dismissed all the ones I read off of the pedigree chart. It can't be too 'old' or too 'ethnic'. Not too popular, too Biblical, and not the same name as any ex-girlfriend, unkind roommate, or unruly child that we know of.

It's hard to ask parent's opinions, too. Two of them are teachers, and have undoubtedly encountered children of any name we could think of. I'm not sure my own mother is sold on my third child's name. She was still making suggestions after we left the hospital with that one.

It's just...the pressure of naming a child. The honor. The responsibility. Assuming the child doesn't grow up and then request to be called Delia (I knew someone like this) or legally change their name to Princess Consuela Banana Hammock (did you see that Friends episode?), this is the name that they'll bear, and hopefully live up to, for the rest of their lives!

We've come to a short list of names that are "on the table." There is a proverbial table, and we place names on it, until someone flicks, throws, or otherwise removes it from contention. The list is as follows, in no particular order of preference:

Claire
Avery
Emma
Hallie

Okay, there it is, people. Now tell me, what do you think? Any one in particular, or have you got one yourself that you'd love to throw into the running?