Speaking of which... ahhhh the name game. What's in a name... We've thought of names for a long time, but not knowing if it was a boy or a girl made it seem so far away, almost, not real. Does that make sense? It didn't seem, serious I guess. Now that we know our little Urban Achiever is a boy, well, shit just got real. I was thinking, maybe we could make this little one a junior. We could call him.... Ambro. Hmmmm.... when I think of Ambro, this is what I imagine:
"Mom said rock it till the break of dawn!"
-Beastie Boys
So... maybe Ambro isn't that great of a choice... the search for names continues. We have a few picked that we like a lot, but have not settled just yet. Of course, it is traditional to include a "family" name. Usually a child carries not only the paternal last name, but a first or a middle name is typically taken from a previous family member of either side. Usually this is done to honor a family member. This is also something to think about. Something else to consider, which could possibly be THE most important factor is, how can you make fun of whatever name you choose? It's important to start making fun of what you're considering, because you know someone else will. Case in point, when we were thinking of girl names, I suggested Ryder. No, no, no Kris said, boys will make fun of her till no end once she gets to high school. Ahhhh, yes. Therefore, Ryder was out. A great place to find out how that name will be twisted into crumpled potential tears of embarrassment is a fire station, or at a nurse's station I've discovered. -This is most certainly not a BAD thing. This can save your future child feelings of inadequacy and you thousands of dollars in therapy. Growing up, I remember getting made fun of for my last name. Of course, I already knew what kids would do with my last name, and at first I hated it, but over time, I embraced it. Harriman = Hairy Man. Yep. That's me. Or Hairy Woman. Ok, cool. I don't care, I guess I would've cared more if I had a hairy upper lip or thick black hair or something. But since I don't, it didn't really phase me much.
The other thing ruling my world lately is nesting. Oh boy. We're still waiting to hear on whether or not the bank has said yes to us owning a small farm in Beavercreek. But alas, I haven't let that stop me from fulfilling my need to nest. And I'm gonna toot my own horn here. I nest like a mofo. In fact, whats the term for nesting like a total badass? Check it out:
Painting Need: Check.
Demolition Need: Check.
Polishing Need: Check.
Girly Need for Sparkle: Check.
Post Home-Improvement Snuggle Time With my Love: CHECK.
Now the painting thing I did by myself. Instant gratification, so good :) The bathroom stuff, couldn't do it without the help of my handsome husband. I don't think he knows that he's helping me nest. But it's awesome. The urge to nest is strong, it's primordial I think. And nothing is more sexy than your husband busting his butt to help make sure things are taken care of. This, coming from a woman who is very much "I can do it by myself!" But damn it's sexy to feel take care of, provided for.
Something else I've been working on... a journal. A keepsake for this little boy to have if he wants, in the future.
I chose a plain book with plain pages with the idea that the words written on those pages might be thought of like a private conversation between the writer and it's intended recipient only
I usually write in this journal at least once a week. It started at 5 weeks along. There's something really personal about handwriting. People don't write anymore. Take this blog for example. Everything is email these days. I feel that handwriting can transfer emotion, a piece of someone's personality that you just can't get from something typed in Times New Roman on a screen... Sometime down the road hopefully he can hold this journal and read thoughts and feelings, get a sense of the hope and excitement that we feel with him growing. His grandparents have written in it, Kris has also written in it, which I absolutely LOVE. I put his ultrasound pictures in it, and I've included some pictures of his extended family. I included the note the ultrasound tech wrote as well proclaiming that he is a boy! Don't get me wrong, I think the baby journals available to buy are adorable, they just weren't for me.
With that being said, it's time to make another entry in that on-going private conversation to my son. Makes me SO proud to be able to type those words here, and share these thoughts and feelings with you guys. I have never felt this kind of pride in my life, this over-whelming sense of love and kindness with ever prevalent peace and joy.
It makes me sad that motherhood is taken for granted, especially when knowing amazing women who are unable to achieve pregnancy. My heart goes out to those women, and I hope they know it does not make them any less of a woman, or a mother. It does not mean they don't deserve those titles, or respect in that manner. Being a mother is a feeling, a state of mind, a facet of your soul that you find over time. Not necessarily going through a successful pregnancy. So I end this entry with sending out much love and respect to all women out there who associate themselves with having that feeling in their hearts.
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