Broward Leigh, born 11/6/09

Stork About to Land

We'll have a baby girl by the end of the week... stay tuned!

Also, Texas Cinderella, pls send me an invitation to read your blog : )

July 4 Vacay!

Thank you everyone for the wonderful name suggestions-- I have shared them with BD and there are a couple/few that are in the running! The drawing shall go forth as planned, but will have to wait until I get back from a short beach vacation on Sunday evening.

So hopefully the forecasted rain and lightning will miraculously evaporate, leaving us to enjoy a long weekend of friends, fireworks, beach combing, swimming, and not drinking any cocktails.

Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!! See you in a few days.

It's A Giveaway: Know Any Names for a Lovely Little Girl?

As the title suggests, we got the news that our next progeny does not bear the 5th appendage: it's a girl! I am thrilled-- although a little brother for the Bear would have been most welcome-- but a little unprepared in the name department. The BD and I have a pretty solid stable of names for little boys, but in the girl department, we're hurting.

So here I am soliciting your help. We need some new blood in our list of potential names, so I thought I would reach out to the blogosphere for some fresh ideas. In exchange for your help, I will hold a random drawing on July 1st for this fabulous set of acrylic glasses with which to enjoy all those summer cocktails that I cannot drink this year. I even selected a pink-and-green plaid design because I know all you preppies will not be able to contain yourselves. As for my other friends who will be able to contain themselves (you know who you are), if you win the drawing I will just send you some booze and we'll call it day.

Don't worry, they haven't been through a "test run."

We like to stick with classic names that have a family tradition, but unfortunately, despite my grandfather's 8 sisters, my own 3 aunts and lots of cousins, the pickings are pretty slim. That is, of course, unless the following names appeal to you: Dorcas, Harriet, Irene, Elsie, Gay or Netta. If the Bear had been a girl, his name would have been Ella Frances (both family names), but now that Ella is rapidly rising on the Social Security Administration's top 20 list, we've backed off of that idea. The BD and I would like to avoid our daughter sharing a name with 6 classmates her entire life, since one of us has had that experience already. So anything in the top 20 is pretty much off the list. In addition to the SSA Top 20, it would be great if we could steer clear of stripper-worthy names, too (not to be a snob or anything). Other than that, while we prefer feminine and classic, we are open to new ideas, so bring'em on!

Leave your name suggestions in the Comment section of this post, one entry per person, but PLEASE leave as many names as you like (can you see that I am feeling a bit desperate?). Thanks and I look forward to seeing what you come up with!

Epilogue

If you've been reading this blog from way back, you may remember that I did a series of posts (tagged as "M" in case you want to refresh your memory) beginning in July 2006 regarding a college "boyfriend" referred to as "M." I can't remember why I chose to relive such mortifying and frustrating time in my life, I imagine it was probably easy writing material, and of course because I like flagellating myself for the entertainment of strangers. Anyways, when I wrapped up the series, M had flown off to Malaysia with his high school sweetheart for an indefinite period of time, and that was the last I'd heard of him.

That is, until last week. M and I are now "Facebook buddies." O happy day. So, just to wrap up that part of my life and tie it neatly with a big satin bow, here is what happened to our buddy, M. It seems that he found a new girlfriend stateside (**important to know that she is less attractive than me). They married a couple of yrs ago and have an adorable baby girl. Of course, M had the nerve and good taste to bestow upon his daughter one of the 3 monikers I have reserved for my fetus, should she turn out to have girl parts. And, he has relocated to an exotic country that shall go unnamed, where he has started (with two of our pothead, yet sweet, friends) an offshore company that specializes in genetic technology. So, as you can see, he is still the unwitting bastard that he has always been.

Also of note, he has lost lots of hair, wears dorky square glasses, and is nowhere as attractive, charming, nor as funny as my lovely husband. And he never was.

A Farewell to Smooth Bellies

Could this be MY belly that I am looking at? No. No it is not, as my belly has been claimed by a small being that has caused my formerly trim-ish tummy to curve like a single parenthesis-- at only 16 weeks!!! I wasn't even wearing maternity clothes at 4 months of the last go-round. Judging by my previous pregnancy, I look about 6 months pregnant. Not cool. It's going to be a long, long, loooooong summer. I added that nifty gadget to the right to remind me that I have 170-freaking more days to grow (go).

Even the mentally challenged grocery-bagger called me out when I was just 14 weeks. If it weren't that I am familiar with the guy, I would have been a little freaked out by this 6-foot-4 giant of a man so mesmerized by my stomach that the checkout clerk had to break him out of his reverie so that my purchases stopped piling up into a landfill-like mass.

He finally snapped out it, and asked me in a dreamy voice, "Are you having a baby?" My inside voice said "Yes, lucky for you, I am." But I just smiled and said, "Yes, I am." He broke into a huge-ass grin, spun on his heel, and walked away. The cashier called out to him, but the guy kept walking, disappearing into a manager's office, before reappearing-- still smiling-- with a postcard tightly held in a fist that could probably knock out a heavy weight boxer.

"Here." He thrust it into my hands. "You can join our Baby Club. You will save money on milk and food for your baby."

Seriously, I almost started crying, his excitement for me was so palpable.

Well, in other news...

- My son turned one. I spent a week creating a slide show with music for him that recaps his first year with photos and a little bit of video. I was pretty much in tears the entire week, having to repeatedly relive my first born's birth and development in a 10-minute span, some of it to an awesome cover of Bob Dylan's "Forever Young" (no, not the R. Stewart version). Kids are no joke. They add this entire range of emotion to your life that previously didn't exist. It's like a baritone waking up one day and suddenly realizing he can also sing the tenor parts... even when he doesn't even WANT to.

- I finished, in a bawling, red-faced mess, "A Farewell to Arms." Excellent, excellent book, but certainly not one that a woman who has recently given birth should read. Especially if she had a difficult labor.... and even more especially if she had an unplanned c-section. AND MOST DEFINITELY NOT IF SHE IS PREGNANT AGAIN AND GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER C-SECTION. And certainly, the last person in the world who would recommend such a book to his pregnant wife would be the BABY DADDY, right?? Wrong. "I forgot the ending" is not an acceptable excuse.

- Errr... I am bored. So bored, in fact, that I have started sewing lessons. And am really not into writing at the moment.

WTF. WTF. WTF.

I don't know who this person is sometimes. But at least she has a pretty kick ass summer maternity wardrobe.

The Floozy Inside

Going to the BD's high school reunion tonight... actually I think it will be pretty fun. A lot of his high school friends have become my own, such that I been asked by two different people if I am excited to attend my reunion this weekend. And yes, there will be an ex-girlfriend of several years in attendance, but she's actually a genuinely nice person who has always been quite gracious towards me.

And, she was witness to the tackiest thing I have ever done in my life, and seems not to hold it against me. Back in the day, when I was young and stupid-- yet certainly old enough to know better-- I attended what can only be called a "mini-reunion" with my future husband. It was during the summer, and BD and I had been dating about 2 or 3 months. And let me tell you, our love affair kicked off at torrid, heady pace. We were in crazy, once-in-a-lifetime L-O-V-E, completely consumed with one another, already planning to marry, and had even toyed with the idea eloping in Key West. I was 23 years old.

Anywhoo. So we attend this psuedo-reunion, where I was formally introduced to the ex, and floored that I really liked her after chatting with her for while. But, as will happen, the drinks were flowing, like they do when you are 23, jobless and it's July in Florida. Somehow, about 6 people ended up in the back of the ex's SUV, after she offered to chauffer some of the party to the next destination (again, nice gal). So... BD and I are stuffed in the back seat, drunk, it's about midnight, and.... we commence to make out. In his ex-girlfriend's car. While she is driving our drunk asses around town.

Yes, I admit to this tacky, rude and inconsiderate behavior, which, over a decade later, still makes me cringe each time I recall it. My only excuse is that I overindulged that evening, and apparently was unable to control myself in such close proximity to the object of my love/lust.

Well, fortunately for me, BD has excellent taste in ex-girlfriends, because she handled the incident with a hell of a lot more class than I did. Had I been in her shoes, I would have smirked and expressed my anger anger and disgust through catty remarks that would have been utterly well-deserved... and would have not hesitated to trot out the story at cocktail parties for years to come. But not his ex... she has never mentioned it, not to either of us (BD was especially mortified by his own behavior), and not even to anyone else, as far as I know. Which I very much appreciate, since we share a lot of acquaintances.

And so if you have to embarrass yourself in front of your husband's ex-girlfriend, she's the one you would pick. And ever since that night, the only thing anyone has ever heard come out of my mouth regarding the ex has been a glowing compliment.

So I get to see her again this evening, and will get a second chance to behave like a decent human being. The pregnancy comes in handy here, as there is a much less likely chance that I will get drunk, make an inappropriate remark about her lovely baby or try to make out with her husband. But anything is possible, as behind the pearls and reserved demeanor is a secret, trailer-park-trash floozy waiting to resurface.