The Name Game

If the teenage behavior of our girl's parents is any sort of predictor, I can expect more than a few sleepless nights.   I can already imagine the agony; my heart in my stomach and eye on the clock, pacing a rut in the kitchen floor, cursing the little shit my daughter's boyfriend for corrupting my sweet and innocent girl (again, if this kid inherits even a fraction of our traits, the opposite will probably be true).  I can almost hear the quiet creak of our front door, and the first few slow and careful steps into the house, and feel my thumb flicking on the light.  "You have a lot of explaining to do....".  A lot of explaining to do, who?


With the whole gender thing sorted out, we've started to get down to brass tacks and find a name for our little poop machine and future break-in artist.  Sure, we've had a flip through some name books and combed the internet, but now serious fighting debating is happening.  There have already been a few names (Navy. Really??)  I've felt obligated get off the table, and some not so bad ones that just don't seem to fit.  I think I'm driving my partner crazy, who has already informed me that "veto is a boys name".


It's a hard thing, this naming business.  Names that I like, remind my partner of people that she doesn't.  Name-music to my partner's ears, is name-nails-on-a-chalk-board to mine.  We haven't got graceful rebuttals, except to say that this one or the other "just doesn't sound right".  Here's hoping that over the coming months we land a good one.

It's a Tomboy!

Well, it's official. Like every Dad with girls who came before me, I'm totally screwed happy. Of course I'm happy! Who wouldn't look forward to buying a big-ass shot gun to chase prospective suitors from their doorstep? I kid, I kid. Well, kinda.

I grew up as the only boy living with three women and a gay dad (ya ya, big deal, I'm kind of over it). I was totally looking forward to a little dude to throw the ball around with. But, in the wise words of my partner's stepfather, a man who was completely surrounded by members of the fairer sex until I came around: "you can teach a girl to ride a dirt-bike just as well as you can teach a boy to".

With this new found perspective, I'm getting more and more excited to raise the coolest and cutest little girl. It got me thinking, what are the words of wisdom I most want to impart?

Here are the most important bits:

• Tell the boy who's scared to put a worm on a hook he's a sissy and punch him in the arm; he is a sissy.
• Have grass stains on your pants and scabs on your knees.
• Be good at sports, and not just good for a girl.
• Stand up for injustice and stick up for your friends.
• Never trust a guy who says "trust me".
• Don't date. Ever.
• Challenge authority, except for your mother's and mine.
• Know when to speak up and when to keep it zipped.
• Let me live with the delusion you're not growing up.
• And finally, never, ever, stop being my little girl.

Yesterday was a big day for our family; we finally got a glimpse of our little one. We're thrilled we're having a baby girl, and we can't wait to meet her face to face. I'm also happy to have at least fifteen years to practice my aim.

The 3D ultra-sound

So, this is it. Tomorrow, in a small suburban ultrasound clinic, we find out once and for all whether we'll be having a boy or a girl. We've been for ultrasounds twice before as part of our regular prenatal check-ups, but lo-and-behold, our little one has been a bit shy. My dad says this proves it's a girl, because getting boys in our family to bare-all takes about as much coaxing as getting a fat kid to have second helping of cake. This may or may not be true, but we'll just wait to see whether this medically informed prediction comes to pass.

Virtually everyone we talk to has asked whether we know the sex, and whether we are going to find out. Hell yes we're going to find out. We're not a couple that does well with even minor surprises, so the prospect of waiting until B-day (birthday) would be torture.

We'll be getting a CD of pictures and a DVD of the session. We're both very excited. So excited, in fact, that we've already fought argued over our vastly different views on what music we should bring to dub over the DVD. Yes, we are indeed going to be terrific parents with our priorities firmly established. God help us if we add another stubborn family member to this mix; if our baby's refusal to turn over for our last ultrasound technician is any indication, we're in for quite the family dynamic.