Final Two

I thought it would be impossible to find even one name that Chuck and I agree on, but we've found two. Our choices are:

• Norah Ann (I think I prefer this spelling.)
• Susanna June (She would have one name from each grandma and that would be really sweet.)

We're going to live with them for a little while and maybe even wait until the baby is born to choose a final name. She might really look like one or the other.

 

As much as I loved Brenna, I don't want to commit to "B" name. What if we have another child and can't find another "B" name we like? I know families like that and I always feel badly for the odd-man-out when I get their Christmas card.

 

Merry Christmas!
Love,
Ava, Andrew and Josh

 

Poor Josh! His parents really couldn't come up with one more "A" name. How about Allen, Asher, or Aiden. No? Ok, there's always Aaron, August, or Arthur. No? Avery? Atticus?

 

The Duggers have 19 children and they haven't run out of "J" names yet - it is possible. You just have to try! I can't even appreciate the card because I'm too busy pitying/renaming their youngest child.

 

In any case, feel free to weigh in on the final two options.

Let's Play: Name My Baby (Updated)

I am now almost 34 weeks along and working hard to get ready for our new baby girl. Specifically, naming her.

This is tricky business because Chuck and I fundamentally disagree on what a name should represent or who it should honor. Chuck usually pulls inspiration from hall-of-famers or "hot" girls from high school. I think if we're going to choose a namesake, we should honor people like our parents or grandparents.

Despite our differences, we're trying to come to an agreement. (Actually, Chuck is a very giving man and simply said, "Just bring me your top three and I'll pick my favorite. Isn't he wonderful?)

Here's what we've done so far.

I made a long list of names:
Alice - of noble kin
Anna - gracious/merciful
Anne - gracious/merciful
Beatrice - bringer of joy
Bethany - town near Jerusalem
Brenna - sword
Breanna - noble
Cora - heart
Easter - born on Easter (I think she might be born near Easter)
Elizabeth - God is my oath
Elsa - God is my oath (short form of Elizabeth)
Evangeline - messenger of good news
Jane - God is gracious
Jerah - boldness/bravery
Jessa - God beholds
Joy - happiness
Margret - pearl
Martha - lady
Myra - admirable
Natalie - born on Christmas day
Nora/Norah - honor
Savannah - open plain
Susanna - lily

Chuck made a short list of names:
Morgan - great circle (hot girl from high school)
Victoria - winner/conqueror (not sure of his inspiration here)
Joy - happiness (Jaime Presley's character from My Name is Earl)

Famous for saying, "Hey
Dummy, quit lookin'
at my boobies."

Then we looked to our family for inspiration:
Chuck's Grandmas:
Wilma Fern
Donna June

My Grandmas:
Vesta Verl
Dorothy Carolyn

Our Moms:
Barbra June
Carolyn Susan
Paula Beth (This was almost my mom's name, but my grandma lost that battle.)

We'll skip going back any further. I didn't really know my great-grandmas that well, but stories about them involved a lot of judgement and firearms. I can't remember the details, but I know at one point my mom said, "Grandma, please put the gun down, I'm afraid you're going to shoot me."

Then I made a list of unreasonable demands:
1. The name has to fit this baby:

• She seems sweet (she never kicks too hard).
• She also seems laid back... or hearing impaired. Ben plays his snare drum (again, thank you Little Brother for that super thoughtful Christmas gift) pretty much every day and she never even flinches.
• She seems to love Chuck and Ben. If they touch my stomach she always taps them back. It's like she's saying, "Hi. I know who you are and I love you."
• Although we don't know who she'll look like, I'd like to strive to hit the mark. Here are several choices:
• Ben: Lots of siblings look alike and, unfortunately for our daughter, Ben looked like Grandpa Enderle. The handlebar mustache looks sharp on Grandpa, we'll see if she can work it.

Grandpa and Bean looking handsome.

• Joseph: My mom keeps telling me how similar this pregnancy is to hers with Joseph. I'm having pregnancy nightmares of a bearded, guitar-slaying baby girl.

Joseph shredding on a tiny pink guitar.

• Me: Chuck says he hopes our baby girl looks like me. Little does he know, as a child, I may have look like a wild animal.

Judging by my weird little bangs, it looks
like this picture was taken after one of
my many self-haircuts. Don't blame my mother
for my crazy hair; I'm sure it was my fault.

2. It has to coordinate with Ben's name - Benjamin Charles. Benjamin is a traditional name and Charles is a family name.

3. It has to be clearly a female name. There is a current trend toward unisex names or giving girls traditionally boy names. And although I know lots of cute Taylors and Ryans (of both genders), I think this girl needs a girl's name.

4. It has to have a nice meaning. I simply can't name my baby something that means "sadness" or "afflicted". With every little cold I would think, "This is it. We named her Whatever-Name-Means-Afflicted and now she's doomed to spend her whole life afflicted."

5. It has to be versatile. When we were trying to name Ben, SG suggested Fletcher. I just can't imagine a person named Fletcher doing anything except working in a ski shop and aspiring to become a professional wakeboarder. We need something that will allow her to grow up and be an accountant or writer or whatever else she wants to be.

6. I would prefer a two-syllable name. (Like I said, these are unreasonable demands.)

So here are some names I've been playing with:
Alice Easter
Elizabeth Joy
Elsa Anne
Evangeline Fern
Jessa Beth
Jerah Beth
Joy Elizabeth
Susanna Joy

And here are my top two choices:
Nora Anne / Norah Ann (Annette is my middle name)
Joy Susanna (Susanna would honor my mom)

Update 1:
I love the write-ins! I didn't realize Brenna was such a favorite and I really like Evangeline Ann. Please keep your ideas coming :)

Update 2:
My parents don't love Nora and my dad said he would call her Noriega. If you're like me and don't know what that means, let me share. Manuel Noriega was a military dictator in Panama in the 80s. A quick glance at Wikipedia tells us he was a pretty bad dude. Plus, he looks like this:

The notorious Noriega

Despite this new information, there is no way I can come up with a name that's safe from my dad's nicknames so at this point, I'm undeterred.

Bubble Boy

In order to share this story, I have to admit to my extreme negligence as a parent. Please overlook it.

This evening Chuck was out running emergency errands - purchasing a new grill cover because ours is tattered and it will probably rain tonight. So bath time responsibility feel on me.

I started the water and began to undress and Ben, but realized I was super hot in my long-sleeved shirt and jeans so I went to change. (Just in case anyone missed it, this is the negligent part.)

Ben won't climb in the tub himself so I thought this would be a safe choice even with the water running. And if we were only concerned about drowning, it would have been. Little did I know that Benny had a secret plan and judging by the speed with which he executed it, this was a plan he'd been cooking for a while.

I came back - literally 30 seconds later - to find the bath tub completely pink and the previously half-full Lander's Kids Bubble Bath container essentially empty. This is a 64 ounces container. So, in the time it took me to put on a t-shirt, Ben unscrewed the lid and dumped approximately 30 fluid ounces of Silly Strawberry Bubble Bath into our tub.

Evidence

The extreme bubbles were already forming and within a minute they were cresting the top of the tub. At this point, we only had one choice: celebrate this extravagant bubble bath for the once-in-a-lifetime treasure it was.

I plopped Ben in the tub and we made bubble art:

Bubble Beard (I got one too, but wouldn't let Ben
operate the camera from the tub.)



Bubble Hats



Even a Bubble Mullet.



This was probably the best bath of Ben's life... until we couldn't get the bubbles off. We rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, but only made more bubbles. Finally, I had to take him to the sink and give him what Chuck calls "a whore's bath". He cried.

But I think if he had the chance again (which he won't - bubble bath is now considered toddler contraband), he'd take it.

Peas in a Pod

We have T-8 weeks until our baby girl is born and Chuck keeps asking me if I'm excited for my new best friend. I assume this is partly a jab at how much I love my mom, but I think he has sometimes felt a little left out because Ben was such a Mama's baby.

He always says that Ben is his best friend and I'm Ben's best friend. I try to remind him that we ought to be Ben's parents not his friends, but this point seems to fall on deaf ears. Plus, Ben is growing out of his Mama Phase and discovering how fun Dad can be.

Just in case Chuck ever starts reading my blog, here are my three examples of how similar they are and how much fun they have together.

Exhibit A - Extreme Sports:
After dinner I was washing the dishes listening to Ben and Chuck giggle in the living room. My heart was full and I was thinking, "Isn't that sweet, they're playing together and having so much fun." Then I turned around. I should have expected what I saw, but foolishly I didn't.

My six-foot tall husband was standing on the right arm of the couch and my two-year-old was was standing on the left. What I thought was a counting lesson, turned to horror before my eyes:

Together they said, "Three. Two. One. Blastoff!" And then they both fell face-first onto the cushions collapsing into giggles.

Chuck caught me looking at him and said, "It's ok, we're boys."

My mind was racing:

1. You are not a boy. You're 31 years old.
2. You're the DAD. You should be setting a good example, not teaching our child bigger and better ways to jump on the furniture.
3. This game looks like a head injury waiting to happen.

I nixed the criticism and decided to focus on what I wanted to happen - getting Ben and Chuck to play together appropriately. So I said, "I'm glad you guys are having so much fun and this is a very creative game, but instead of teaching Ben to jump on our furniture, why don't you take him downstairs and play with toys."

Chuck was happy to oblige. He said, "Come on Ben, let's go downstairs and play swords."

Sigh. Well, that's a little closer.

Side Note: I secretly want a video of this game, but feel like a hypocrite suggesting that they play it again.

Exhibit 2 - Super-Sonic Sense of Smell:
Chuck's habit of smelling his food before he eats it has long entertained me. Especially when we were first married he was discovering the wonderful world of vegetables.

Chuck: What is this?
Jackie: It's asparagus. Haven't you eaten asparagus before?
Chuck: No.... is it good?
Jackie: Well, I think so. I made it and I'm eating it.
Chuck: Hmmm.... Sniiiifffff.... (Biting.... chewing... ) Hmmm...

Ben smells his food too. He'll lean over his plate, inhale deeply and declare how icky something is. (Definitely developing a thicker skin about my cooking. It's hard to please a two-year-old).

But Ben smells more than just food. The other day at my parents' veterinary hospital, he picked up the end of the central vacuum and sniffed it. I truly thought I was going to throw up. I know what they suck up in that thing and it is gross. Think toe nails and  matted hair. Ew.

My mom was gut laughing, I was fighting back my breakfast.

Exhibit 3 - Preferred Sleeping Accommodations: 
To make room for the new baby, we moved Ben into what was our spare bedroom and moved him into a full bed. That's right we skipped the race car, toddler, and twin beds and went straight to a full. We made this decision because we already had a full-sized bed and didn't have any other place for it. It seemed silly to get rid of it, not have a place for company to sleep, and buy a toddler bed.

So we made it as toddler-friendly as possible. I asked Ben for about a week if he wanted to sleep in the big bed instead of the crib and at first he said no, but then he came around. On move day, we waved goodbye to the crib and carried all his little friends to the new bed. He climbed in and looked so happy.

We called Chuck up to see the new bed complete with Ben and he said, "Wow, that looks so comfy. I wish I could sleep in that bed."

Now, many people will think that Chuck was just saying that to make Ben feel like he's getting something really special, but he was completely serious. And every day for the last week, he's mentioned how he wants to sleep in that bed. In fact, the one morning Ben woke up super early (6:15 am) Chuck practically sprang out of bed and said, "I'll go lay with him and see if I can get him to go back to sleep."

In fairness, it does look pretty inviting.


Ben enjoying his new bed. Also a rare nap with pants.

 On a side note, Chuck keeps asking where Ben will sleep if his mom comes to town. I keep telling him, "With her." I bet they'd both love it.

So, Ben and Chuck, I'm glad you guys love each other so much and Chuck remember, you have a few more years where Ben thinks everything you do is amazing. Enjoy it.

How to Ruin Your Children

Many moms I know worry about "ruining" their children. They joke about starting a therapy fund and confess fears they probably haven't even shared with their husbands.

As friends, we reassure each other with comments like, "Oh, you're not bossy. You're efficient." or "So what if you're sometimes dramatic, you make life fun. Your kids know you love them and they're happy."

Most of the moms I've had these conversations with love their children fiercely and provide a constant home base of acceptance and security. Even adult children know that Mom's arms and ears are open if needed. These women are far from ruining their kids.

I however, am actually ruining Benjamin and here is the photographic evidence:


Ben being ruined.


That's right, Ben is roller skating... pantless. It's bad enough I let him roller skate every day like this is 1978, but letting him do it without pants is unconscionable. Adding insult to injury, instead of rectifying the situation (I'm totally capable of putting pants on him), I photograph him instead.

He's probably going to end up like this:

Ben's unavoidable future.

Ben decided he loved roller skating at SG's birthday party. He tore up the floor and even made it to the final round of the limbo. (I like to think his height advantage was offset by the fact that it was his first time skating.)

Ben's first time on skates.

He loved it so much, he found a picture of roller skates in a book (a funny Mickey Mouse book from the 80s book my mom gave to me) and said, "Bean keet! Bean keet!" probably 100 times. He'd pull out this book, shove his stockinged foot in my face and beg to skate.

So, one Saturday morning, I sent Ben and Chuck to Toys R Us with $100 in birthday/Christmas money. I gave Chuck a very detailed list of what he was supposed to buy:

1. Roller skates
2. T-ball tee
3. Sippy cups that look exactly like this (sent actual cup)

Chuck asked, "Do you want me to spend all the money?"

I resisted saying, "Please give me one example where I would say, "Chuck, it is imperative that you spend all of this money!"

Instead I respectfully said, "Well, there's no need to try to spend..."

"Ok, we'll spend ALL the money!" Sometimes I don't even know why I bother talking to Chuck, he's clearly not listening.

So off Chuck and Ben went to the toy store. I wish I could have seen them shopping. I imagine it included at least seven full laps of the store, Ben asking for things by picking them up and yelling, "Bean! Bean! Bean!" I also hope Ben called Chuck, "Daddy Chuck" which he sometimes does. I'm sure it took at least and hour and a half and was general chaos.

Then they came home with their loot: skates, a T-ball stand, hockey sticks and binkies... and Ben proceeds to ask to roller skate every moment of every day. At 6:15 in the morning, I get him out of his bed and he says, "Bean keet." When we're driving home, when I'm laying him down for a nap, when he wakes up from his nap. He wouldn't even take his skates off to eat dinner.

He always wants to skate and that's how this picture happened. Every single day, we have lunch and play for about 15 minutes while he poops. I take his pants off to change his diaper and leave them off for his nap. (I always ask and he always says, "Off.") Then he woke up, anxious to skate. Rather than wrestle him into pants, then shoes, then skates, I simply put his shoes and skates on.

And then I realized what I'd done.

Then I laughed at him.

Then I photographed him.

I wish I could say this is my only indiscretion, but it isn't. I am notorious for dressing Ben badly and then laughing at him. You can find evidence here.

So Benjamin, when you're older and reading this thinking, "This explains everything! Mom is the reason I (fill in whatever you'd like to blame on me here)," just know three things.

1. You're probably right. I did ruin you.
2. But I do love you very much.
3. And no, I did not start a therapy fund for you. You're on your own like the rest of us.

One, Two, Three...

Today is another red-letter day for Benny. He counted to nine all by himself without any help or prompting. Technically, he skipped four. We're not really sure what he "said". In fact, it honestly sounded more like a burp than a word, but he started back up with five and was really rolling by eight.

We celebrated and I tried to get him to call Mama Jack (what he's currently calling my mom) and say, "I counted to nine." He repeated the sentence once, but thereafter refused. Instead, he gave me that face that says, "I can't believe you are so lame." It's amazing how that expression is so instinctual.

Despite the face making, we're still proud of Ben's counting accomplishment and in Ben's own words, "Go Bean!"



This is a recent picture and another milestone. Ben put

his shoes on all by himself.



They may not be on the correct feet :)



We love you, Ben. You are a delightful person and we're so thankful God gave you to us.

How to Catch a Stray Cat in 24 Easy Steps.

I am officially a crazy cat trapper lady and I'm not even embarrassed. I trapped my first feral cat today and I'd like to share my step-by-step secrets.

1. Spy sad little cat picking through garbage and shivering in sub-zero temps. Note that this sewer cat is new to the neighborhood and decide he is probably the same cat you saw streaking out of your garage in the fall.

2. Put food out because you are a tender-hearted sucker.

3. Decide to trap it and spend too much time looking at small animal traps online.

3a. Regret this decision when you see Amazon's latest "Items you might like" list. Amazon clearly thinks you are Ted Nugent.

4. End up tricking your mother into buying two traps for just $25 at Tractor Supply.

4a. Celebrate because now you can trap the sewer cats and the sewer 'coons.

5. Spend the next two weeks "earning sewer cats' trust".

6. Enrage your own pets by feeding the strays on your front porch.

6a. Wake up to scary growling and become terrified that there is a bear in your house. Try to rouse your watchdog from a dead sleep.

Vigilant Watchdog

6b. Fail.

6c. Go downstairs weaponless to discover your cat attacking the window and Sewer Cat sitting on your porch looking terrified.

Reenactment

7. Put out enough cat food to also feed a flock of crows who begin to poo on your front porch.

8. Decide (against your better judgement) to tell Husband the truth when he asks, "What's all over our front porch?" Now Husband is angry with you.

9. Suspect Sewer Cat is really a she and is pregnant.

10. Begin to like Sewer Cat and bond with her as another expecting mother.

11. Make Neighbor super angry and receive nasty text message:
"There is a cat in your driveway, get it before I shoot it. Lol."

11a. Become agitated by Neighbor's poor use of "lol". What are we laughing about, your misplaced rage at a little cat simply existing in your line of vision or shooting said cat? Neither seem funny.

12. Make Husband even more mad because Neighbor sent him a text message too:
"Tell Jackie to put some poison in that cat food. I just picked up 10 cat turds out of my yard."

13. Imagine Neighbor digging through his bushes picking up cat turds. Giggle. Begin to feel a little bit better.

14. Give up your secret hope that you can spend the next six months feeding and socializing Sewer Cat with the hopes of finding her a nice home. (Now she winks at you when you feed her.)

15. Decide to set the trap.

16.  Realize super-cheep trap didn't come with instructions.

17. Discover the extra-reputable trap manufacturer also does not have a website.

18. Turn to the experts: You Tube!

18. Watch approximately 14 videos on operating live traps and trapping feral cats. Here's a favorite.

19. Withhold food for 24 hours and feel awful. After all, you know what it's like to be pregnant and hungry.

20. Bait and set the trap.

21. Catch Sewer Cat.

22. Deliver Sewer Cat to parents' veterinary hospital. There she is confirmed to be both a female and six weeks pregnant with five or six kittens. Send Sewer Cat to a new home... in heaven.

23. Miss Sewer Cat tremendously. Cry privately and rename her Nissa 2 (after a childhood cat).

24. Repeat as necessary.

And that's how you catch a stray cat. In the words of Bob Barker, "Please spay and neuter your pets."