What’s in a Name? Everything.

These are the top ten names we have for Baby Boy Fisher:

1. Commercial Fisher
2. Charter Fisher
3. Hunter (Gatherer) Fisher
4. Finn Fisher
5. Compliment Fisher
6. Fly Fisher
7. Marlon Fisher
8. Sustainable Fisher
9. Fisher Fisher
10. Offshore Fisher

Let’s just hope it’s a girl! This happened last time too. We wanted a girl so badly that we had only joke names for a boy. We’re still leaning toward girl, but this proves we’re just bad at picking boy names.

Most kidding aside, naming a kid is a huge responsibility. Names are so important. Ask my mother-in-law. Her maiden name was Smelley. When she married Matt’s dad, she became a Smelley-Fisher. Maybe that’s why we poke so much fun. Seriously, your kid’s name will be his or her calling card. The name every teacher will have to learn. The first line of the resume. The first shot at acceptance or rejection by potential dates, employers and, most importantly, kids in the schoolyard.

The trend now for boys leans toward “unusual” names. I meet a new “Aidan” or “Jayden” every week. Let’s stop right there. If you want your kid’s name to stand out, try to stretch a little further than the ones that make the top 20 name lists. When I was a kid, we’d have to call kids “John A.” or “John F.” or “John S.” because we’d have three “Johns” in our class. Same story with Mikes. When parents began to get more creative, I thought the three Johns phenomenon would become an old-fashioned memory. But it’s not. Especially if your kid’s name is Aiden.

Girls name are trending toward the traditional, but the “unique” ones still enjoy some popularity. I picked “Rose” ten years before I married Matt. I loved the name since I was in my 20s and vowed to use it one day. I didn’t know it would be Grandma’s middle name. That was just a bonus. Truth be told, I probably got it from “The Golden Girls” but what the hell, I love it. It was really popular throughout the 19th Century all the way to the 1960s, when its use sharply declined, probably in favor of “Hayfever” or “Wheatgrass.” But every time I introduce her, someone says “Oh, that’s Sailor’s middle name!” or “My sister’s godson’s cousin is named Rose.” It kind of makes me freak. I thought it might be really popular and my kid would have to be “Rose F.” through school. I’m glad I just looked it up. It’s not even in the top 50, according to Babynology.com. It’s not that I’m on the “unusual” bandwagon, I just don’t want my poor kid to have to distinguish herself from others at every introduction.

Which brings up another pitfall. I see a lot of variations on traditional names and there’s nothing wrong with them, you just have to be careful which ones you use. My boss’ stepson will spend his life clarifying, “No, it’s Al-EC!” Don’t impose that on your kid. I hate it when people get my name wrong and mine isn’t even hard. For the record, it’s Maria, not Marie. I used to have to say, “Maria, like West Side Story.” I’ve made enough corrections to know how much it would suck to do it at every introduction. Your name is the first thing you tell people. Having to clarify and correct each time makes for an awkward first interaction and potential bad impression.

And then there are those people who ruined it for everyone at reception desks and switchboards everywhere. If you want to call your kid “Amy,” go ahead. But do not fool yourself that changing the spelling will make the name unique. The only thing you accomplish by spelling it “Amyee” will be to force your daughter to spell her name to every receptionist and secretary, thereby wasting months of her life and reinforcing the resentment she has toward you for doing it in the first place. People ask ME how to spell my name, thanks to some idiot whose mom thought it would be cute to call her daughter “Maryeiah” or “Mahreea.”

One more thing: Your child’s name should grow with her. We had an 80-year-old family friend named “Sally.” Sally sounds good for an 11-year-old, but once that kid clears 17, she’s outgrown her name. When she’s 80, it’s just ridiculous. For boys, I like to imagine my kid introducing himself when he’s 17, after his voice has changed. “Hi, I’m Dylan” doesn’t cut it unless the kid’s a professional gunslinger. My best friend likes to imagine her son introducing himself as a lawyer, “I’m Corey Rabinowitz,” just doesn’t flow with “Good to meet you, Counselor.”

Throughout all the name searching, I’ve realized I’m pretty traditional when it comes to names. I don’t have anything against the latest “unusual” names, they’re just not right for my kids. We don’t know the baby’s gender, but we’re set on “Jackie” for a girl. My top picks for a boy are “Charlie,” “Sam,” and “Ozzy.” I know “Ozzy” is weird but I just like the way it sounds with “Fisher.” My husband hates “Ozzy.” It’s just as well. I think the Nobel selection committee would dismiss anyone named “Ozzy” right out of the gate.

Once we know the gender, we can either stop the boy name search or it will begin in earnest. It won’t be “Commercial” or “Hunter” or even “Ozzy” (sigh), but when we do agree on a name, it won’t be in the top 20, we’ll spell it correctly and our son can use it his whole life.

Pregnancy: It’s Not Pretty (Part 2)

Today begins Week 14. I have high hopes for Week 14 because that’s when the morning sickness subsided last time. I’ve been OK on and off this week but yesterday I had a terrible relapse, so I know I’m not out of the woods yet. I can’t wait to feel normal again and to eat foods with flavor. When my stomach stabilizes, we’re going on World Food Tour 2010. I want Ethiopian, Indian, Japanese Steakhouse and fish and chips to start. And chocolate. I miss chocolate. Thanks for all of the comments and I hope you enjoy the second installment of “Pregnancy: It’s Not Pretty.”

Pregnancy: It’s Not Pretty

Month Four

Day 71: Since when is 12 weeks NOT the second trimester? Total of 9 months, 3 months have gone by, that’s the first third, ergo trimester. Now they’re saying 14 weeks! What the hell kind of math is that? Show me that equation.
Day 85: Wow, I woke up this morning and I was hungry. Not choking down crackers because I was sick, but actually hungry! It’s over! Thank God it’s over!
Day 85, 1 p.m.: Oh, God, it’s back. I knew it wouldn’t go away. I’m in the 9-month yak camp, I know it.
Day 92: It’s gone 70 percent of the time. So I’m sick only 30 percent of the time now. I hate the bitches who had it easy, but at least it’s something.
Day 105: It’s nighttime and I have felt human all day. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?
Day 106: It happened again. There is a God.
Day 107: Booked a cruise. Our honeymoon/last chance for fun before parenthood. Thousands of nonrefundable dollars if the sickness comes back, but I’ll take the chance. I haven’t felt good enough for anything to be fun in months.
Day 142: The amnio. I heard it was horrible. The sonogram’s cute, though. “There’s the head, the arms and the feet, right here by the bladder.” Hey, kid, that’s not the moon bounce! Great. Now I have to pee. Child, you are so grounded when you’re born. “Hmm, I can’t seem to break through the amniotic sack.” Uhh, I see the baby somersaulting on the monitor. Please do not stab its head and for God’s sake shut up and just tell me when it’s over. “Do you want to know what it is?” Absolutely. “It’s a girl!” Oh my God, we wanted a girl! Oh my God, what if something horrible shows up on the amnio and we have to terminate? Oh my God, why didn’t we wait for the results to know the sex?
Day 130: Sucks to forego tropical drinks on the pool deck, but it’s still all play and no work, my commute is on a tender boat to a tropical island and I can nap anytime I want. And bountiful feasts await my ravenous soul. I always wanted a tapeworm, but this kid is even better.
8:30 Breakfast: Scrambled eggs, pancakes, hash browns, fruit and decaf.
10:00 Snack: Fruit, waffle, sausage
Lunch: Italian buffet on the Lido deck.
Snack: Two manicotti and a cannoli.
Snack: Party mix at the bar.
Dinner: Cream of asparagus soup, bread and butter, Caesar salad, rack of lamb, garlic mashed potatoes, carrot medallions and key lime pie.
Snack: 24-hour pizza.
Day 131: Weightlessness in the pool. It’s like having an orgasm while eating chocolate cheesecake with whipped cream and fudge sauce.
Day 132: Snorkeling: I was watching the fishies and had to pee, and I just let ‘er rip. I love snorkeling.
Day 133: It was really hot shopping in Cozumel. We had to find some air conditioning or I was going to pass out and have to go to the Mexican ER, so we wasted our shore time in the Hard Rock Cafe.
Day 134: Oh, please, a chili relleno, 3 taquitos, 2 enchiladas and some seven-layer dip does not a Mexican buffet make. Thank God for the chocolate cake. Mmmmm.
Day 134, 15 min. later: Feel a little twitch in my stomach muscles. Damn Mexican food. Hmm, there it is again. And again. Feels a little weird, though. Could that be the baby? It IS, isn’t it? Oh, God, I’m crying. “Honey, give me your hand. She’s kicking. How can you not feel that? Fine, don’t believe me.” This is the most amazing day of my life. I wonder if it was the cake.
Day 140: Back to reality. I asked my boss for a laptop so I can work out of the ladies’ room. He laughed. Every 20 minutes and it always feels full. It’s the inconvenience of a bladder infection without the pain.

Pregnancy: It’s Not Pretty

Ok, everyone, time to come clean. I’m pregnant, and I have horrible morning sickness. That should explain the recent sick days. It should be over soon, I hope, so I shouldn’t have any sick days for the next few months, but I wanted to share with you what it’s been like. I wrote this about my first pregnancy, but it still applies. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, and you want to see more, let me know. I have a few more segments. Thanks for sticking with me!

Pregnancy: It’s Not Pretty

I always thought I’d be a parent but I never wanted to have a baby. Labor scared the crap out of me. My plan was to adopt a toilet-trained two-year-old, but my husband objected. He wanted us to have a baby and truth be told, he wore me down. By the time we got married, I was 38. My clock wasn’t ticking, the alarm was going off and much as I tried to hit the snooze, I was pregnant within a month, and let me tell you, they say pregnant women are beautiful but pregnancy is just not pretty.

Month One (two weeks pregnant)

Day 1: The test says “pink” for positive, blue for negative. I see pink, but I see blue too, it’s really more of a mauve. Could it just have soaked through and messed up the test? There are no pictures of what it’s supposed to look like! Why are there no pictures? Thank God I had that sangria last night. It may be my last.
Day 2: The gynecologist’s office. “You probably are pregnant, because those tests are pretty accurate, but we’ll take a blood test just to be sure.” Whew! No peeing in a cup.
Day 3: “You are two weeks pregnant. Would you like to make an appointment with the doctor for six weeks?” Uh, ok. Is that what you do? Until then, what do I do? What do I eat? What do I quit? Why six weeks? I have questions now! Ok, WebMD says no drinking, no Advil, no sushi, no brie, no cold cuts, no diet soda. No diet soda? Are you freakin’ kidding me? How does one live without diet soda?
Day 8: Well, except for the no soda, this isn’t so bad. I tried regular soda and eeew! That high fructose corn syrup leaves a lingering sour taste, like I just vomited. Speaking of throwing up, I don’t feel any different. Hard to believe there’s a person growing inside me. Maybe it’ll be fun.
Day 9: Hmm, I feel a little queasy. Really isn’t so bad, though. Good. I was afraid I’d have bad morning sickness.
Day 13: “Honey, is it really ok for me to fly to this interview this week? I’ll be a five-hour plane ride away, so I can’t get here right away in an emergency. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself
“I’m pregnant, not crippled, Sweetie. Relax. It’s fine.”

Month Two (two days later)

Day 15: Oh, my God, I can’t even stand up, my head weighs a ton and changing position adds to the nausea. The very idea of food is repulsive, but they say it’s the only way to make this feel any better. The idea of anything with flavor grosses me out. I may be able to choke down some bread. I just want to lie motionless but I can’t because I have to constantly scratch my legs, my boobs, my back and my feet. God, why didn’t we just get a puppy?
Day 16: “Hello?” “Want some fish from Seattle, Honey? I’m at the fish market and they’ll throw it to me! ” Oh, God, eew. I think my superhuman nose actually smells it. I didn’t think it was possible, but I feel worse. “They have halibut!” Oh, God, please shut up. Just shut up.
Day 17: Called in sick. On the way from the airport, my worried husband stopped for seasick wrist bands and after wearing them for two hours, I was able to sit up straight. The thought of eating makes me woozy. My head hurts, my body aches, and I feel dizzy, which only worsens the never-ending nausea. I’m only 5 weeks pregnant, so I can’t go on maternity leave which means I have to function at work tomorrow.
Day 18: At work. If the hour and a half commute in a shimmying pickup didn’t kill me, the food smells from the microwave will. I just have to sit at the computer and feign normalcy. Fortunately no one will notice I’m sick because now I look like all the other federal drones in our windowless office.
Day 24: My first OB appointment. “Give us a urine sample. You’ll do this every visit.” Oh, I can’t wait to soak my undies and fingers once a month. “Let’s take a look at the baby.” Seriously? Cool. “Ok, there’s only one baby. There it is.” Holy crap, the idea of twins never occurred to me. Are they sure it’s a baby? It looks like a marshmallow. But there’s definitely something in there. Are you sure it’s not a cyst? How am I feeling? Oh, lady, you don’t know the half of it. Normal, yes. No treatment or cure? Women have been having babies for thousands of years. How is it that we have a cure for impotence and not morning sickness? If men had the babies, women would rule the world.
Day 25: I am exactly as sick as I was last week. Potatoes, pasta and bread are my friends. The ginger candy the doctor recommended works for about five minutes, but they are five minutes of bliss. This is new: if anyone or anything physically touches my belly (like pants), my head gets swimmy. And I was heretofore unaware of this, but there are NO maternity stores in Annapolis, MD. Well, one in the mall, but I hate the mall. Thank God for Target.
Day 26: I threw up before work this morning. The hour reprieve from nausea was quite unexpected and pleasant.
Day 30: I’m so tired, I can’t stop shivering. I had so many errands and chores that I pushed myself too hard and now every time I get tired, I quake uncontrollably.

Month Three

Day 40: I haven’t felt this suicidal since high school. I can’t go to work like this anymore. I can’t get out of bed and commute and function and pretend I’m ok while my stomach threatens to turn itself inside out. I can still get an abortion, right? If I did, the sickness would go away and I wouldn’t have to go through labor and then we could adopt a toilet-trained 2-year old like I wanted in the first place. Shoot. Snooze alarm expired. I have to take a shower. You’d think it’d feel good, but it just makes me hot and more nauseated.
Day 48: Everyone says once you hit the second trimester the nausea will go away. Well, everyone except those few bitches that felt the need to share that they were sick the whole pregnancy. Nice. Your kids are in their 20s. Let it go. Let’s talk in a month if it doesn’t go away. Until then, shut up and don’t take away my only shred of hope. I have noticed, though, that women with multiple children tend to say they didn’t have morning sickness. That explains a lot.

Using a Sick Day

I’m so sorry, guys. I can’t post this week. I started this week’s entry and intended to finish it today, but right now my head hurts too much to write. I apologize and hope this will be the last sick week for a long time. Please don’t give up on this blog! There are 26 posts, so if you’ve missed some, please take this opportunity to read some older posts. I’ll be back next week!