Do you ever look back and wish you could relive a moment in your life? It doesn’t even have to be some big, life-changing event. Sometimes, it is just something little and stupid. And yet…
Earlier this week, I was thinking about Thanksgiving this past year. Or, more specifically, the Saturday before Thanksgiving. That was the day that I found out that my younger brother’s wife was expecting their second child. She told me while we were out hitting up a pre-Thanksgiving Day sale at Kohl’s.
As we wandered through the store looking at all they had to offer, I decided that I wanted to look for a new pair of earrings. We went to the jewelry counter and looked in every display case. At one point, I saw an adorable, gold baby bracelet that had been marked down from $60 to $14. I ooooh’d and aaaaah’d and encouraged her to buy it. After all, even if her new baby was a boy (which it is), she already had a two-year-old daughter who could wear it. She took it out, looked at it, and put it back.
I just didn’t get it. There was no question in my mind that, if I had a little girl that I could put it on, I would have bought it. The sad fact is, I came very close to buying it, anyhow. I kept telling myself that, even if I never had someone to put it on, I could eventually give it as a gift when I gave up the dream. Logic won out (well, that and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to admit buying it to my husband and I’ve never been one to hide purchases from him…), and I left it at the store.
Less than a week later, I found out that I was pregnant. I wish that I had that little bracelet to give to my daughter.
Yesterday, I remembered that I wasn’t always that logical.
I have had these dolls sitting in a wicker trunk since I bought them in 2000. That’s right—NINE years. Every so often, I would think about them and consider pulling them out and giving them to one niece or another. But I have always held off. Sure, they still have a few more years of exile in that trunk before my daughter is ready for them, but they’ll be waiting.
That is assuming, of course, that my husband doesn’t sneak them onto Ebay. Someone has Snow White listed for $60 there right now.
Now that we know we are having a girl, I have finally pulled out the baby name books.
Someone tell me: What the heck happened to all of the names I was falling in love with when I was pregnant with boys???
Seriously, I am up to “J” in the book that lists every last ridiculous variation of every name from Greek to Sanskrit, and only have about five options written down. And we can’t even begin to agree on any of them.
At least we can agree on some of the names we would never consider.
As best as I can tell, it is pronounced about like a pickup line for a caveman.
“You stacked…We, uhhhhhh….?”
If it were a British caveman, this would be followed by an enthusiastic wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
And the best part? The meaning.
Hmmm…Does that count as onomatopoeia?
In the meantime, I became aware today of the the fact that my mother despises one of my name choices SO MUCH that she is actually recruiting friends at church to tell me how much it sucks. Greeeeeaaaaat.
I wish I could blame the appearance of my bust on the horizontal stripes, but it’s definitely time to go bra shopping. Otherwise, I’m bound to pass out someday from the lack of oxygen. Either that, or my top half will pop off spontaneously from the sheer pressure squeezing inward.