some of the names we have called e since she arrived:
monkey, sweet-cheeks, peanutbutta, poopie-pants, peaches, tiny e, monkey-butt, snuggle-turkey, stevie wonder, mrs. serious-pants, pumpkin-butt, ellie-bellie, chunky-monkey, the chunk, peanut, gangsta, delicious, the cutest baby eva, fussy-monkey, baby-cakes, the snorkler and mashed potato
was today when my daughter smiled back at me not once, not twice but at least 13 times. heaven.
now if i could only get her to go to bed before 3 am …
‘nuf said.
okay, well – this may need a little explanation, though likley not to the moms reading … this baby has now slept 7 hours a night for the past 3 nights and is on her way to another one … how lucky are we?
my apologies to the moms who are not experiencing such lengthy and heavenly, undisturbed sleep at present… oh, and i know that it will not always be like this, but damn – this is niiiice.
thank you, elise!
so i have a month old baby now and life will never be the same. she is amazing and exhausting and incredible and puts things into perspective unlike just about anything i’ve ever experienced.
i thought i had prepared myself for the fact that i would now have no time for me, mark, domestic ‘chores’, friends, outside engagements, etc… - pretty much anything but her … i had been told this by everyone but still think i expected that i would be different – i would be the one who would somehow make it all work and find the time to keep knitting sweaters for her, wash my hair, cook Thanksgiving dinner, call friends faithfully, write daily, learn German, and so much more … i thought i was smarter than to think i was smarter/more capable/different than any/all of my friends/acquaintances that are mothers … silly me … i am no different. sigh. letting this go and trying to be okay with it all.
not that i really was on top of all these things before she was here either – there was always something going on, some reason to procrastinate, avoid, excuse and ignore. maybe now i will chose my projects and passions more wisely and perhaps even be a bit more focused. perhaps this tiny, sweet, wise doll is already helping me become not only a good mom but a better person by forcing me to chose the things that are most important to me, to prioritize and be really efficient in the v. little spits and spurts of time i now have.
first thing: cull my 5 page, single-spaced ‘to-do’ list down and give myself a break. next: start heeding the sage advice of – nap when they nap. think i’ll try that one out now. i’ll be right there, elise .. just as soon as mommy finishes putting together this cute pink ikea dresser for your room …
while i think i’ve been pretty darn calm and centered during most of my pregnancy, with each day past due i go, i can feel my anxiety rise.
i know that all will be fine – she is healthy as am i and i am in v. good hands here in zurich (both at home and at the hospital) but when things fail to progress naturally, i guess it makes sense for one to become a bit ill at ease…
i also suppose that my hours spent on the internet researching everything from natural induction technicques and ideas to what stripping of the membranes really means is not helping. and though i am showered with love and support everytime i sign in to my facebook account – i also know that with each passing day my friends and family are getting more eager and anxious. and then there are also those whose advice, though always welcome and appreciated, is not always comforting or calming …
so perhaps a self-imposed moratorium on internet usage for me. at least until the baby comes. (as soon as i post this and update my twitter account, of course)
it’s looking like this baby might just be a scorpio. i had assumed she’d be a libra. i know and adore many libras. scorpios, not so many – and no women scorpios (that i can think of at present).
i took mom and my belly to hooters in zurich today – kind of as a joke, as it’s not a place we would normally go, but as soon as it came out of my mouth, we both laughed and agreed that it was pretty perfect and that we needed something to shake things up and that maybe, just maybe, this baby would respond to chicken wings and curly fries … so far no dice. but we did get this awfully swell photo:
i have to say, i feel as though we’ve tried just about everything ‘they’ (along with personal advice from good friends and my own crazy ideas) say to do to get babies out: the teas, walking, spicy food, acupuncture, acupressure, shiatsu, more walking, peter fonda rubbing the belly, galloping up and down on a curb, giving the kid a stern talking to, eating loaded pizza, going for a car ride on a somewhat bumpy road, relaxing baths, finishing her room, asking her nicely and even telling her what her name will likely be…
as i head to bed this evening after yet another wonderful meal made and cleaned up after by my amazing mother (with whom i’ve had the most delightful time waiting for this kid – she should sell herself as a ‘lady-in-waiting’ for these kinds of things – she’s got a real knack for it …), i take comfort in knowing that this little girl is already on her own path and will arrive when she is good and ready.
so if not by tomorrow, mom and i will likely hit another brocki haus, go for more walks, knit and talk and laugh more, visit with friends and neighbors, watch a movie, eat some good food and field more calls from the U.S. asking, ‘where is she?!!!!’ and that’s okay too. (though i am getting a little impatient, i must admit…)
typical, i know. timing has never been my strong suit … but i have all these projects i’ve been working on and i look at all these blogs by all these amazingly creative people almost daily and am inspired and motivated to join their ranks …
now the wise thing to do would be to either post such things on this blog and not stretch myself too thin by adding the pressure of two blogs to update, or to at least wait until after the stick-o-butta arrives , but sometimes i’m not so wise … we’ll see …
check back in the next few days for the scoop …
So it’s time. The baby will be here in about a month and we need to buckle down and focus on a perfect name for the little stick-o-butta.
While everyone wants to know what she’ll be called and has been asking for months, we have decided to see what she looks like before we give her a name. We have a list – a top 5, if you will – and even a top 10, but who knows if any of them will be the right one once we see/meet her…we can only hope.
Of course, we were pretty much settled on a boy’s name and simply knew that it was a boy so we were all set – we did have a few alternates in case he didn’t look/feel like a “Charlie” but we were pretty set – and that was a nice feeling.
I didn’t think Charlie was a terribly popular or trendy name when I thought it was a name I could see giving a possible future son that a few years back, but as seems to hold true in the universe, once you start saying something, seeing something or believing something, the rest of the world jumps on that same bandwagon.
Now this may be fine for those who like and find comfort in trends and like/same-ness but that’s just not me – if it’s trendy or popular or ‘in’ you can pretty much count on me not wanting it. For example, no one was naming their kid Henry when I decided it was my favorite name about 10 years ago … until I said it aloud. I told someone that I loved that name and would someday name my kid that and then bam – it was everywhere. I mean, until then, I had only known one Henry in my entire life. Only one. Then one of my best friend’s dads had a baby and he and his wife named him Henry. So cute. Little Henry Hoffman. Okay, I thought – they live in California and don’t exactly travel in the same circles and I think it’s a family name so – I gave them a mulligan. Then it seemed that everywhere I turned, someone had a Henry. There were Hollywood Henrys and New Hampshire Henrys. I heard it called on the playground, in the grocery store … everywhere. And I was pissed. But did I have a right to be so? No. Of course not. It wasn’t even a family name for me. Did that give me even less of a right to stake a claim on this fabulous name? Probably. Especially since I had to admit to ‘laying claim’ to names that others used that were my family names. Like Parker and Hunter. But these too have become trendy. Too bad. I used to have a little fantasy that I would have twin boys named Parker and Hunter and when people asked where they got their unusual names, I would say, “family.” And that would be that. It would shut them up and I would smugly walk away. This was when I was in junior high and still wanted kids – when I got a little older, I was going to be a career woman and would have no time for the little beasts so the favorite baby names we relegated to possible dog names.
So Henry was out. I still love the name but dislike that it’s become so common and an ‘it’ name. And as I have said, I am a counter-’it’ person. I want classic and classy with a twist – not different for the sake of being different – unique but not made up. And no crazy spellings of classic names – that’s just asking for trouble.
So one needs to be flexible. Of course, I realize I’m not the only one who this happens to. Others seem to take it okay. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe it’s like art or thoughts or music – there are no original ideas as they say – someone has always thought of it or done it or made it before you. Get over it.
I mean I don’t want the kid to have a name that no one has ever heard of before or that will always have to be pronounced or spelled out for everyone – what a nightmare. My poor brother, Keir has had to deal with this his entire life and while I think he likes his name, this guy has had to endure some serious strife because of it.
Because kids love to rhyme words and names, he was hit with ‘Keir the queer’ his entire childhood – poor thing. Then there’s spelling – kier, keer, kir – like kir royal? And then there were those called him Peter .. Peter? Where’d they get that? I guess when you say Keir quickly or not enunciated enough, you hear Peter – yeah, okay – Peter – I think the kid just answered to whatever. But it’s a great name. And he is Keir. Maybe not the only one in the universe, but one of the few and the best one as far as I’m concerned.
Once we found out it was a girl, Charlie and Henry went right out the window (though there is a small posse of friends and some part of me that would love to call my girl Charlie/Charley) so that should make it easier, right? Not really.
When you have your first serious talk with your partner about a name, all this other stuff comes into play –what about a family name? From whose family? Should it be mine, because the kid is getting your last name? Does it matter that we are in a different country and she’ll be born here? Should we name her something having to do with the country or culture she’ll be born into? And they pronounce things slightly differently here – so do we take that into account? (i.e. Elle would be pronounced Ella here, etc…)
So you make your first list – broad strokes. You get to veto each other’s names that you would not consider. Me – I love Louisa (The Sound of Music, of course) the sound of it, the way it looks on paper… I can picture a little girl named Louisa running through a field with her hair in a bow, wearing a dress made out of curtains … well, you get the picture. It’s one of my favorites. Nope – he won’t even consider it – he vaguely knew someone who had a kid named Louisa and the kid was a pain in the ass, or weird or something… that’s all it takes, folks. One bad memory. Or sometimes not even that. Sometimes you just don’t like a name for no apparent reason. He feels that way about Charlotte, another name I like. No reason, just don’t like it. Okay. No Charlotte either- (but honey, we could name her Charlotte and call her Charlie! Nope. Not happening…) veto, veto, ve-to. (This whole compromise thing in marriage gets really old sometimes, doesn’t it? …)
And he likes lots of names that I must admit are really cute/sweet but that are really trendy. He balked at my reasoning at first then I showed him the social security site for top names in the US and they were all there. And though I really do like almost all of these, I just can’t do it. Maybe my kid won’t be like I was and will find comfort knowing that there are 12 other Ellas or Sophies or Emmas in their class but I just can’t do it. (There was nothing I hated more than not being the only Kristen in class and having to be Kristen V…. hated it!)
But what if said trendy name is really an old, recycled name (meaning used to be out and old but now is hip and cool because it is old. ..) and you have a family member with that name – is that okay? Will you always be saying, “Oh, I know that there are 12 Graces in her class, but she was named after her grandmother…” Another conundrum.
And what about the fact that the family names I like are not the family members I really want to pay tribute to? My grandmother, Mary Thelma (Worthylake) Hayward was v. special to me and she would be the one to whom I would pay tribute by naming a child after her. But while I like Mary, I’m not in love with the name and definitely don’t care for Thelma. I was set on giving the child the middle name of Worthylake whether it was a boy or girl and thought that would be lovely – and I love the name (I have used it as the name of my film production company and use it for a few email addresses too) I thought my husband was on board too, but he now seems to think that any name plus Worthylake Harbaugh will be too much/too long and I guess I’ve let him convince me of such.
I don’t have a middle name. My parents thought that Kristen Vermilyea was long enough. Good idea in theory I guess, but it kind of backfired as I just gave myself middle names according to my latest whim or more accurately, latest obsession. I was Kristen Marie when Donny and Marie Osmond were popular had their Friday night variety show (I also felt close to them because my Aunt Lynne went to BYU the same time they did and she once took a photo of them on campus – from far away, but still – and I somehow felt like we were connected – like I knew them – related even. I took the photo to school and told everyone that my aunt was friends with Donny and Marie and that maybe they’d come to NH for a visit. I also had my mom buy me purple socks because Donny wore purple socks and though I wanted to be Marie, I wanted to date – yes, I was young – 7- but a crush is a crush – Donny .) I was Kristen Olivia for a good long while when I wanted to be Olivia Newton-John. I mean, who didn’t? She was beautiful and had that fantastic accent and she could sing and act. Wow. I’m sure there were more fleeting middle names in between, but the ones that finally stuck were Brooke and Ashley. I think they likely showed up in junior high. In my memory, my parents were sick of me changing names constantly and one liked Brooke and the other Ashley and that became it. Looking back, I think the more likely explanation was that I liked these 2 names and instead of choosing just one, thought it would be fancier if I had 2 of them. It’s also likely that there was someone on tv or in a movie that had 2 middle names and I likely thought that was pretty cool.
This stuck for a while. Kristen Brooke Ashley Vermilyea. KBAV. A few people even started calling me ‘bad ass’ – Kristen Bad Ass Vermilyea – in high school I remember – which was exceeding funny as I was the least bad ass person anyone knew in high school. I found out at my 20th reunion that most people thought I was a narc. That’s how uncool I was… Recently I found a decorative piece of slate that my mom had painted for me when she was in her ‘crafty’ stage. It has a teddy bear in the center and my ‘name’ on all 4 sides. Kristen Brooke Ashley Vermilyea. How sweet that my mom wanted to make this for me but also, how mortifying. What do I say when my kid maybe someday sees this and asks who that is? How embarrassing… I think I may have hyphenated them at some point as well. Nice.
I guess I’m realizing that no matter what we name the baby, there will always be another girl/woman with the same name and that is okay. There will always be someone who says, “Oh, like Brangelina’s baby” or some other Hollywood star or musician or architect or astronaut. And it will be my choice to answer either, “Yes, just like that…”, or “No, not like that.” (Guess which I’ll be more likely to say? …) I realize that many people need context and a touchstone. Many people always seem to need to put you in your place and give you their opinion. Others are kind and keep their damn mouths shut and mind their own business. That’s what I call good manners.
A few of my best friends have offered up their names to the baby which is a fab gesture but sadly, one that won’t be accepted. At our baby shower this summer, one of said friends sat listening to the conversation that had begun about names. (The small group of close family and friends that was gathered was dying for a hint of what we were thinking of and though we had said we were not going to, I couldn’t not share a little … ) So after listening, she offered that Margot with a ‘t’ is silly because it’s silent and will bring nothing but grief. “Mar-got? Mar-got? Don’t name your kid that – that’s stupid.” And when the name Elinor was brought up, she said, “Elinor? That’s an old lady name! Why not just call her grandma – this is our new baby, grandma – doesn’t she look good for her age?” And it went on. Everyone at the table was in hysterics as she held court. She was honest and tough, but fair. Finally, after many more names and reasons not to give them to our baby, she offered this (in her precious Massachusetts accent which was slightly increased after a few glasses of wine) “As your best friend and the one who made you Godmother to her kids, I will say that I think Maureen Anne Ryan Harbaugh is a wicked good an awesome name for a baby. It’s served me well …” And so it has, my friend, so it has. Our baby would be lucky to have such a strong, sassy, fitting name as yours.
PS don’t you steal any of my names. I may just have another baby. Or get a dog. I’ll find out … you know I will …
(before i begin my rant, i will apologize for my absence and only say that there are about 6 half written posts from july that never got finished while we were on ‘holiday’ in NH/ME … in rereading them, i’ve decided to move forward and keep the mediocrity to myself and strive for more interesting stuff for you now and in the future (one can only hope…)
apparently, if you have a large enough space, you can have A/C but even if you do, it can only be something like 6-7 degrees colder than the air temp outside … so it’s pretty much worthless … poor Mark sweats to death daily at the office and me and my growing belly schfitz (I need to get Leo Rosten’s the Joys of Yiddish to spell this correctly but you get my drift …) on the tram, in the store, on the bus, at the grocery, etc….
I know it’s an environmental thing and an energy saver but come on, people … for a few weeks a year?!!!
not much really to say here – i am probably noticing even more now that i am with child, but it’s obnoxious … like the US 20 years ago or worse … you walk off the tram or train and it seems like 1 out of every 3 people light up and before you’ve taken your first breath of fresh air, it has been filled with the exhailed smoke of someone in front of or next to you … really gross and nasty and annoying.
in the states you can talk/charm/cry/explain your way out of tickets. here they arrive in the mail. no discussion, no argument, no recourse … and going through a tellow light is v.v.v.v. expensive ….
So I went to my 4th prenatal yoga class today and was hit with the same thing I’d experienced the previous 3 times … the pregnant women here are all baby.
These women – they all look like they just swallowed a basketball. they are tiny everywhere else and look damn good. And they seem to be either tiny, tiny little Lilliputian mommies-to-be or six footers. I feel as though I am the only ‘regular’-sized broad in the bunch.
Last week, I placed my mat in the only available spot in the room, which was in front of the mirror, but facing away from it, as we kind of arrange ourselves in a circle. This is more than fine for me as I always try to avoid the mirror as I find it a huge distraction and instead of focusing on my technique or whatever else you are supposed to use the mirror for, I get depressed looking at my frizzy hair, red nose, spreading hips …
So I’m in front of the mirror, facing away and thankful for this – until we bend over to stretch and I am looking at my bottom. From this vantage point, I can also see 2 Lilliputian bottoms and one captain of the women’s basetball team butt and they look good. Now, before I bent over, I felt fairly confident about my legs and rump. I don’t happen to carry weight there and usually this is where I have some confidence about my body. My ass may be flat, but at least it’s small … what I see in the mirror is the same woman’s ass and legs that were the model for those oh-so-lovely plywood cut outs you see on lawns in NH and ME … the bent over large lady in the garden …. yup – that’s me … What the….? (i tried to find a photo of this to enhance your mental picture, but was unable to … hmm …. sorry … you’ll have to use your imagination…or go for a drive)
I felt like I used to in nyc when I left my apt. to go on an audition - I would look in the mirror before I left and agree that I looked fairly good and walk out the door feeling fairly confident …
At the audition, the confidence would be quickly be replaced with feeling like a troll as I walked into a room full of tall, gorgeous amazons …. What the …?
I have only gained 9 lbs and am just over 6 months along. You look surprised. I am surprised as well – and v. happily so. For the first time in my life, people (Mark and my mom mostly) are saying to me: “are you eating enough?” and “what have you eaten today?” and “you need to eat more”… wow …. in my ‘previous’ life, it was the opposite - Ioften ate too much and when I was not even hungry – v. food-focused. Now I am constantly hungry and don’t want to eat. Since being pregnant, I have often heard the following escape my lips: ” but I don’t feel like eating ..” What? Who is this chick and what have you done with kristen? And more importantly, can this please be the new me forever and not just some pregnancy fluke? Wouldn’t that be amazing …. sigh … I’m not holding my breath but I am trying v. hard to remember what it feels like to not want to eat so I can recall it if (when) necessary down the line …
