Names. Oy.
Jason and I have our long-ago agreed upon first choice names for a boy and girl. I believe it was decided during the return leg of a road trip. Road trips are excellent for those kind of conversations.
I told Jason two first names that I really liked and told him to come up with appropriate middle names on his own. Obviously, I had already decided the two appropriate middle names, but I wanted to give him a chance to have some input. I'm a good wife like that.
So. He pondered for a bit. And then... He came up with the two middle names that I had already chosen in my head. It was really weird. But also really good. We have one brain between the two of us [that joke never grows old...]. No name bickering needed. No need for "compromising" and ending up with a child named Melchizedek Charlie Vermette. And... that was one more tiny little item that could be checked off of our To Have a Baby checklist.
But that was months upon months ago. [We like to get the little things out of the way first.]
I am about to make a very silly confession, but I just need to get it out of my system. I need to acknowledge my ridiculousness. So, here goes.
Ever since that months upon months ago moment, I have kept my eyes and ears open, nervously awaiting for someone, anyone, to steal my baby's name. It does not help much that this past year was just a ridiculous explosion of everything baby. Someone seemed to have tweaked that hidden Facebook setting [probably located near the ever-changing and confusing privacy settings] that controls my news feed to Only Baby-Related posts. Everyone was having babies. Constantly. Like bunnies. And foxes.
I just knew that eventually, inevitably, someone was going to announce that their child was named my not-yet-conceived baby's name. And I was going to be super annoyed because that would ruin the name and I would have to figure out another perfect name [a nearly impossible task] and know for the rest of my life that the other baby was not deserving of such an incredible name and... I know this is ridiculous. I know. Hi, my name is Sharayah Vermette, and I am absolutely illogically ridiculous. But I have had these names in my head for months upon months and if, after all this time, someone else named their baby my baby's name... I would forever think of that particular baby as a hamster. [I blame Jason and his Scrubs (as should you if you are reading this and happen to be the unlucky parent of the now-forevermore hamster).]
Anyway. So far, so good. All babies have been named and my baby names remain untainted. But there are still many months for hamsters to spring up, so I continue to stay vigilant.
I do have another slight problem, however. I really like our little girl name. Why is this a problem, you ask? Well, the Vermettes apparently lean heavily towards boys. I am not sure of specific details, but it is a common comment that Vermettes have boys. I have always considered this to be a good thing, as I have always thought I would enjoy raising a house filled with boys only. They just seem easier for whatever reason. And they're much easier to name [good girl names, in my and Jason's opinion, are really hard to come by].
But, now... Now I want-. Nay! I need a tiny little half-Asian girl. To wear tiny little dresses. And to have her head adorned with tiny little headbands. And to build pillow castles filled with stuffed animals. And to teach how to throw a football. And, most of all, to bear the awesome name of ___!
So, see, it is a problem that I adore our little girl name so much. Because I am currently under the impression that it is much more likely that we will have a boy. And if that turns out to be the case, I will have to hold onto this little girl name for who knows how long. And my head might burst if someone hamster-fies it before I can use it.
Do not, I repeat, do not hamster-fy my little girl's name. That is all.
Who knew a tiny little kidney-bean-sized person could elicit such ridiculous thoughts?
Dear Tiny Little Half-Asian kpluBlet,
I honestly do not care if you are a tiny little girl or tiny little boy. You will be mine, and I will love the stuffing out of you. You will have a name worthy of your incredible little self. A good name. A strong name. A name that will give the world just the faintest glimpse at the foundation of your character. You will do the name proud, I have no doubt.
And speaking of names, little one, I am still unsure what I want to be called by you. Mommy, Momma, Mum, Maternal Keeper. It is a difficult thing, assigning a new name to myself. I just don't know what name fits, you know? I have half a mind to just let you decide; whatever comes out of your mouth first, that will be my name [unless your first word is gleba*]. Because, really, what name fully conveys Protector? Intercessor? Bear-Hugger? Tear-Wiper? Forevermore Cheerleader? Whatever that name is, that is who I want to be to you.
Don't worry. We'll figure it out. We're going to be a great team.
*The fleshy, spore-bearing inner mass of a puffball. No thanks.
*The fleshy, spore-bearing inner mass of a puffball. No thanks.
Lol, I love that you keep referring to the size of your little kpluBlet in terms of food items. I know they are convenient size references, but it just makes me think you are hungry! :D
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