Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Name and Dog - not naming the dog

I'm still dealing with naming drama from the in-laws over here. And I still haven't told my dad the baby's name. I'm ready to just say "SHUT UP! This is her name. Take it, like it, embrace it, or DON'T TALK TO or ABOUT her!" One of the other SILs made a joking comment the other day and I got really sensitive about it. My logical side knows she probably was just joking. But people thinking that they have any say in what we name our child is really pissing me off.

Right now, I'm still waffling on the middle name. The original one we picked (and announced) was simple, short, sweet and pretty much accomplished our initial plan without any frills. The alternative I'm considering is longer, frillier, fancier. It's almost like choosing a tomboy vs. a girly-girl name. They accomplish the same thing (putting all the initials together to represent each of my SILs and our grandmothers who also have the same initials) but it's the debate of the more frilly or the simple. And since the first name can go either way really (I've seen both girly-girls with this name and also tomboy/athletes) I'm trying to figure out how I want it portrayed.

In other news, I have finally had it with my dog. He's not a bad fellow, but he tends to pee in inopportune places (or poo in more extreme cases) when I'm not giving him enough or immediate attention (like at 3am when we're sleeping or when we're not home.) And we have had a bug problem since before we moved here, but it's gotten worse with our rather large backyard that seems to be a bug-haven. I have no energy to put into spending time with this dog, so he gets ignored a lot (unless Little Man is following him around the house to "pet" him.) and he really deserves a better life. I have tried to find him a home. He's good with kids, in that he doesn't bite or react to them when they mess with him, but he's older (13) and isn't really a playful sort, so he's not the type that a kid can play games with or whatever. He'd be a great companion to an older person who likes to occasionally take leisurely walks, but mostly likes to sit on the couch and knit/read/watch TV and might want to give a nice dog some behind-the-ears scratches while he or she does that.

Since I've had no luck with finding him a home via my friends, family, or acquaintances, I'm ready to take him to a shelter. It's a decision I've struggled with - he's old enough that it might not be easy for even THEM to find him a home and then... well, I try not to think about what might happen if they cannot place him. But I finally came to this decision and now my husband is dragging his feet.

And my husband is awesome, don't get me wrong. But I'm the one who has to deal with the dog every day. I'm the one who threw up on the front stoop the other day while cleaning up a particularly gross temper-tantrum display. And then there was the 2 days we had to close the door to the nursery (really only used at this point for diaper changes - I had to remove the diapers and wipes, etc. to change Little Man in the Living Room) before my husband could get to cleaning up the most recent tantrum the dog threw. (All over the freaking floor in there. I couldn't do it. So gross. Human bodily fluids are bad enough.) (Even now, thinking about it, I'm gagging at the computer.)

I cannot do this anymore. I can't have 2 active children, a baby in utero who seems determined to wear me out even BEFORE she arrives AND a dog who is too impatient at times to wait a little longer to go outside. (Oh, and he's a wuss, so if it's raining or wet grass in the back yard, he has made it habit to attempt to do his business in my laundry room. Also a major problem contributing - though not solely responsible for - to my falling behind on the laundry.)

Thursday, July 25, 2013


When I was a little girl, I loved reading my mom's old Bobbsey Twin Mystery books. For those unfamiliar, the Bobbsey family had 2 sets of boy/girl twins - Nan and Bert (the older two) and Freddie and Flossie (the younger two). They solved mysteries a lot.

Somehow, I got it into my head that when I got older I wanted sets of twins for my own offspring. Only I wanted THREE sets of twins - preferrably boy/girl twins - for my own family. That's right, 6 kids. Yeah.

But it was really more about the naming of said children. The names of sets 2 and 3 changed periodically and I can no longer remember what any of those choices were. But the oldest two remained the same throughout my crazy fantasy-dreams. They were the names of my parents, R and A.

I think this might have been about the time (no, the ages don't match up...) I promised my mom that my first girl would be named after her. Maybe I'd already made that promise.

Anyhow, years (and years) later, I'm incredibly grateful that I never had twins (yes, in some ways, it would have been cool, but I remember when Fuss was born being suddenly incredibly grateful that God had not given me TWO of her. I would have had a nervous breakdown. I can still vividly remember the first moments I had her all to myself (we were home from the hospital and my husband had just gone to lay down) and the dog jumped on me and nearly knocked me down with her in my arms and I started wailing "I can't do this! I'm no good at this! They're going to take her away from me!" (no idea who "they" were) - I'm sure if there had been two I would have succumbed to that a LOT earlier. And more repeatedly.

But here's the ironic thing - when we were planning the name for our 3rd child? The girl name was my mom's (with a cute nickname) and the boy name had my dad's name in it (the only thing we knew for sure was that my dad's name was going to be in it - it alternated between being the first or middle name and we couldn't seem to decide on whatever the other name was going to be... good thing we found out she's a girl!)

We announced our girl's name to the family the other night. We were so excited! We thought they'd LOVE it. (I still haven't figured out how to tell my dad his 3rd grandchild is going to have his ex-wife's name. Oops.) And other than my mom, we didn't get the reactions we were expecting. Some luke-warm to actually negative responses. (at one point when we were explaining how we came up with our choices, my one SIL started guessing and guessed the name Janelle. The next day, my MIL told my husband, "you know, I like Janelle better." That's nice. We didn't.)  I actually feel like reminding them "did it sound like we were just CONSIDERING this name or when we said 'our baby's name is: ___________________.'? Did you think we were asking for your opinion?"

Now, I have had one minor re-think on her middle name. Something one of them said to my husband was an alternative (actually, I take that back, it inspired an alternative. She actually suggested that we use a different middle name and then just flip them - so my mom's name was the middle name instead of the first name.) I hadn't yet considered and I actually like it. So now I keep going back and forth. Part of me is being stubborn. "No, we put a lot of thought and consideration into this. THIS is the name." and part of me is thinking "well, this might be better. It's a little more "fun" and different without being crazy."

My husband has left the choice up to me. His "first boy of the family" choice was set in stone even before we got married, so he figures that it's only fair that I get to make the final choice in all the rest. Especially since I'm SUCH a name-addict. I'm still struggling with the middle name.

Either way, I'm already thinking of ladybugs for some reason - sort of obsessively. And I've kind of started thinking of her as my little Ladybug. So she already has a cutesy nickname.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Writing and tiny people

Writing. I'm trying to get back into the habit. I'd really like to finish my novel. I've been reading some amazing books (reruns - this is the 3rd time in my life that I've read this particular series) - and I am so moved by the story. Now, none of my personal ideas come close to the type of story that this is (WWII historical fiction) but even the characters and the way the author develops them make me feel like we are old friends and THAT is what I want in my own stories. I've always been very character-focused in my own writing and my deepest desire is to have someone read my writing and feel like they know the character.

In other areas of my life, I'm so excited to find out the gender of the baby I am carrying. We should find out next week some time, as the results from the DNA blood test should arrive some time between next Tuesday and next Friday. (I'm hoping.) We'll also get to "see" our baby on an ultrasound next Wednesday.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013


My day did not go as planned today, but at least I wasn't in the dark place of yesterday morning. As a bit of an update, my somewhat former BFF called yesterday and I forced myself out of the house to meet her at the park and it at least lifted my mood, even as the Florida heat lifted my temperature.

But today! The kids and I got ready in a timely fashion and did our limited-and-on-a-budget-but-still-fun Target run. Thankfully we did that early because my mom called just before 11 with news that she had fallen, broken her shoulder and could I please drive up to the far Harbor she worked in (about 30-40 minutes from me depending on traffic) and pick her up, because she couldn't drive.

So we hopped in the car and drove up to get her.

My mom is lucky in that she works as a nurse in a hospital-related clinic and is surrounded by Dr's and nurses who were able to get her preferential treatment after her injury. She is not so lucky in that my step-dad ended up being kind of an ass about the whole thing, so that's not good, but at least he isn't harassing her right now and is letting her sleep and read in relative peace at home. My husband? Would have dropped everything to make sure I was taken care of and in as little pain as possible, given the circumstances.

My nausea was manageable today - I had a moment or two where I thought the contents of my stomach might make a reappearance, but overall, things were okay. The heat doesn't help. But my mom keeps her house positively frigid, so while I was there with her, at least, things were nice and comfy!

Tuesday, July 9, 2013


I never made a conscious decision to stop blogging and/or being an active part of the blog community, but a couple of years ago when I was dealing with depression and working on getting myself back to normal, it just sort of happened. I wasn't as interested in living my life inside the computer as I had been. The problem is, I actually LOVE writing and since I've been blocked for what seems like ages now, my blogging was the only thing that was keeping me writing on a regular basis. I stopped being a daily reader of many of the blogs I'd grown to think of as friends - partially because despite the fact that I was incredibly active and loyal, I still felt that these "friends" were so distant from me (not just physically, since many of them are living in states far removed from mine) and that wasn't helping my isolation feelings when trying to find my balance.

I'm having a rough day today. I find myself wanting to do nothing, go nowhere, talk to no one. If I had my way, I'd tell the kids to fend for themselves - or better yet - send them somewhere with a qualified and responsible babysitter - and hide in my room all day. I'd read, I'd sleep, I'd watch some stupid, mindless TV and I'd be fine. I'm hoping that this isn't a new permanent state of affairs - that I'm just having a bad day fueled by the pregnancy blahs, the heat (man, is it hot outside) and the iffy-ness our air conditioning unit.

Monday, July 8, 2013

A little peace

I long for peace and quiet. With a 5-year-old and a nearly-3-year-old in my house, I rarely get it. (The 5-year-old wiggles and often talks in her sleep.) About the only time in the day when my house gets reasonably quiet is when we have the TV on and they are absorbed in whatever show or movie they are watching.

I know this doesn't speak highly of my mothering techniques. I'm well aware that most moms speak poorly of the idea of letting the television babysit your kids. I never intended to be the kind of mom who let her children watch hours of TV throughout the day. But here I am. Tired. Irritable. Nauseated. And it is SO freaking hot and humid outside. I just want a little peace.

I turned off the TV today. I've been having a crappy day and we got out of the house before 9am this morning - going to visit Gigi (my grandmother), having brunch with her at Chick-fil-A (where the kids can be crazy in the near-sound-proof indoor playground while she and I visit and watch them through the floor to ceiling window. We went to my dad's - his unairconditioned apartment providing at least a different atmosphere and different toys for them to amuse themselves for a short bit. I told them there would be no TV once we got home until quiet time. I put my foot down.

And man, am I regretting it. I just want a little peace. I want to go to the bathroom without having to hear them fighting in the next room - or worse, bringing their fights into our tiny bathroom. I want to be able to read my book in relative quietness - just 15 minutes would be nice! I want to be able to breathe without feeling my head pound against itself from the incredible volume which my bossy daughter commands her brother.

I'm keeping to my word. The TV is off. But I am counting down the minutes to quiet time when I can put Little Man to bed and park Fuss in front of the TV and close the door to my room to wallow in my misery (today everything seems to make me want to gag and retch).