oh...bot?

So.

Yesterday I went to get my third trimester ultrasound. My doctor said it's pretty routine for them to do a third trimester ultrasound...you know, to see how the baby's growing, positioned, etc. Plus she said I was looking a little on the small-ish side.

Hmph.

But I went happily, because hey, I wanted to see my baby.

So after the shirt was up and the jelly was rubbed and my innards were revealed and some head/heartbeat/leg/whatever else measurements were taken, ultrasound technician lady asks, conversationally,

"So, what are we having?"

I assume she knows it's a baby, since she can see it more clearly than I can, so I figure she's talking about the gender. My powers of deduction are amazing.

"Oh, it's a boy!"

"All right, let's check that out."

So she moves the little prober to that general area, and checks it out.

Brief pause.

(UTL=Ultrasound Technician Lady, K=Katie)

UTL: "It's a boy?"

K: "Um...yeah."

UTL: "Seriously, I told you it was a boy?"

K (out loud): (nervous laugh) "Yep!"
K (thinking): "Yes you told me it was a boy! I've been in here with you two other times and you told me it was a boy! You drew a little arrow on a picture! You used the word 'scrotum.' YOU DEFINITELY TOLD ME IT WAS A BOY. That is why I have boy-ish crib bedding. That's why everyone's been giving me boy clothes. That's why I've been stressing out over a BOY name. BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME IT WAS A BOY."

UTL: "Did I really? Did I write that down? Did we keep any of the pictures?"

She spins her stool around to look at my chart on the counter, and flips through some pictures trying to find the "proof." I lay there just watching helplessly, a "smile" frozen on my face.

UTL: "Well, there's the picture. I guess I did tell you it was a boy. Let's look again."

We spend the next few minutes trying to figure out if there is a protrusion that sticks far enough out between my baby's legs to be a boy part, or if the fact that it doesn't seem to stick out very far, plus the fact that we can see a faint line (although boys have those too), means that we're checking out a little miss.

In the end, UTL decides that she's sticking with boy. She says she's only been wrong twice in her 20 something year career. She also says that one of those times was about 3 months ago, so she's a little paranoid.

My mama bear mind interprets that as, "You got me just as I was losing my touch."

But she did say she still thinks it's a boy. And she sure seemed pretty dang sure when she cried "male" before. I'd say it would be pretty odd for this baby to not be a boy.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself. Over and over again.

Oh and also, my baby is plenty big enough, thank you very much. She's guessing he'll be 7 1/2 pounds-ish when he's born. I've also apparently been doing great with my water drinking (YES!) because there's a lot of "great water" in there. Oh, and the baby is settled pretty low in my tum, which is what's making me look/measure small-ish. This also means he might come a smidgen early.

Assuming, of course, that he is still a "he."

Heh heh heh heh....heh.

What's in a Name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

But my baby ain't no rose.

And he needs a name.

And he probably wouldn't smell as sweet if he was named something like...Wulfric.

Which, along with being one of Albus Dumbledore's middle names, was actually a name in one of our baby name books.

And I just admitted to you that I know Albus Dumbledore's middle names, and that I currently have, in my house, more than one baby name book.

I should really be more careful about what I write.

So... I've looked at names. I mean, I've looked at names.

**Side note: Dallin recently caught me sorting through the tab on my bookmarks toolbar labeled "baby stuff." With all the crazy "research" I've done on everything from cribs to cloth diapers to diaper bags to baby slings to names, this tab contains an unhealthy number of links. Dallin laughed. And I got mad. And I wouldn't even let him kiss it better. That's how you know I'm mad. Side note over**

But seriously, I've looked. Like, look at this website: http://www.babynamewizard.com/voyager

Why in the name of truth and goodness would you need or want this much information on baby names? Am I really going to christen my child based on which name was most popular in Minnesota in the 1950s?

If you did that...um...well, I was going to apologize for making fun of you...but that's just too weird. Intended apology rescinded.

Anyway, no amount of online searching has really changed my mind either way about the names I've been considering, or really presented me with any new names that I've fallen in love with. And the books, lent to me by loving, caring people, have really not helped much either.

And yes, I am female, and I am Mormon, so I have been thinking about baby names since like, before I could date.

But this is the real deal. It's different when it's the real deal.

But in the past couple of days, Dallin and I have buckled down and hammered out a short list.

My criteria for names that made the short list:

1) All boy - I don't want some girl having my son's name.
2) Not super common, but something that he won't have to repeat more than once when telling someone his name. (Dallin has to do that...he don't like it)
3) Ideally, can be used with Dallin as the middle name. I think this is very difficult, because I love the name Dallin. I think it's a very strong first name, so it's hard for me to give it the secondary slot. And it's hard to come up with names that are strong enough to precede it.
4) Not super trendy or cutesy. I think those names just end up being weird.

Dallin's criteria for names that made the short list:

1) Not Wulfric.

I think he really just wants to name the kid so I'll stop stressing over it.

Well, without further ado...here are the top 10 competitors in the race to win the title by which our firstborn will be known for his whole life. Gulp.

In alphabetical order:


Brendan

Derek

Devin

Jacob

Jaxon

Layton

Logan

Parker

Tanner

Trevor


Some stick out to us more than others. Some have been on the list from the beginning. Some are more common, some are a little more unique. Some are more like "filler" names, like we like them, but would probably just use them if we decided we didn't really like anything else. You know?

Anyway, that's the list. We'll see how long it takes us to narrow it down completely. I really want to have a name picked before the baby is born. I am not a student of the "When you see him, you'll know" school. I think brand spanking new babies look pretty much the same for the most part.

If you feel the urge to comment on a particular name or whatever, feel free. I can't promise we'll listen to you...but you know, if it'll make you feel better.

But we're not voting or drawing out of hats...yet.

I Want...

This cozy comfy-ness to rock my baby in:
Of course, I'm not picky. I'd take it in red, too.

Oh, and be a love a make sure to throw the matching ottoman in? Cheers.

These cookies:


Now, who wants to make them for me? Don't all jump at once. Ok, you can all make them for me, if you insist! Gosh.


This diaper bag:


Please note: There is no way on earth that I would ever possibly need this diaper bag to the point that I would actually pay for it. Therefore, I shall never own it. And there will be weeping.

A pumpkin spice blended creme from Starbucks:


Ooh-da-lolly, those things are good. If you've never had one, go get one now. But come pick me up first. Because really, it was my idea.

These maternity jeans:


The best part about these is that they are not terribly expensive, so I can probably actually buy them! When I say "Hip hip" you say "Hooray!"

This list really could grow quite a bit more. But before you color me selfish, consider that 3 of these 5 things are within financial grasp. I'm really being quite self-depriving, you know, to deny myself these things.

We'll just see how long the denial lasts.

Happiness Is...

having a husband that makes sure you always have a supply of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food in the fridge.



Love you, bambino.

8:00

We have a new ward (church congregation, if any of y'all aren't hip to the LDS lingo. Which is cool).

We love our new ward.

Our new ward meets at 8:00 AM.

We do not love that our new ward meets at 8:00 AM.

Dallin thought he would love it. I thought it might be nice.

I was wrong. And so he was wrong. Because if I'm not happy, he's not happy. And I have made it quite clear that it is very difficult for me to be happy at 8:00 AM.

Ok but seriously. Lots of people claim to really love the early church thing. And hey, I'm sure some people actually do love it.

But you know what? I feel like a lot of people "love" the early church thing because it "gets church over with." No one will ever say that to you, of course. They'll say, "Oh, I love having church early! It just gives you the rest of the day to...." and then they kind of trail off to leave you wondering about how they spend the rest of their day when pesky church is "over and done with."

Not that everyone feels that way. I mean, maybe no one does. Maybe I just dislike early church so much that I can't imagine anyone genuinely liking it.

I can see how it could be an excellent start to your day...

but not if you're just so crazy tired (possibly from not being able to really sleep? Not that I currently have this problem) that you can't really focus on the meetings/lessons.

And not if having that "tired start" makes it so you don't want to do anything when you get home besides crash for an abnormal number of hours, making the rest of the day all but completely wasted.

And not if the early morningness makes you be unjustly cranky to your husband, which hurts his feelings, which hurts your feelings, which makes you cry.

Simply stated: Early church makes me very tired. Tiredness makes me unfocused, lazy, and something akin, in manner and sound, to a witch.

It's not like it's physically impossible for me to get up early. I really can get up early if I need/want to. (Shush, Dallin, dear.) And it's not like I'm going to stop going to church because it's too early. That would be quite the waste of the past 1,100 (give or take) Sundays of my life.

But really, I'll be glad when it's January and our schedule changes. Sundays are too important to not be enjoyed.

Thank you. That is all.

I Dreamed a Dream

So...I keep having this dream.

I mean, I've had it like, 5 times in the last couple months.

Which, really, is pretty often for a dream.

Although, I guess it's not really the exact same dream every time. More like, variations on a dream theme.

Whatever it is, it freaks me out.

So like I said, it's a little different every time. But the serious weirdness always begins with me showing off to someone all the fantastic, brilliant movements that my fantastic, brilliant baby is making. What's weird, though, is that in the dream, you can always really tell what's pushing against my belly- baby's foot, baby's face, whatever. Like, really tell.

**Side note: I've heard that some people actually can tell things like this. Whoever you are, you are magical. Everything is a lump unto me. Which, I guess, is good, because apparently I'm terrified of being able to really tell. Side note over.**

Anyways, after a few "Oohs" and "Ahs" over this, the freakyness grows exponentially. Most of the time, what comes next is my showing someone my baby's finger...which is sticking out of my belly button. This is never especially weird to someone...we always just ogle over the cute little finger with the cute little fingernail.

But then...more of the baby starts coming out. Like, I'll pull out an arm. Or a leg, or sometimes, the whole baby! And not through my belly button, either. Oh, but also not through the place where babies normally come out, thank goodness. At least this dream, as weird as it is, is rated PG (for thematic material and disturbing images). But no, I pull out the larger parts through some suddenly appearing opening in my stomach, like all that was keeping it closed in the first place was a little overlapping skin.

Ew.

Anyway, the point is, the dream always ends with my going too far in showing someone the baby. I end up pulling her out completely and not being able to put her back in. And yes, in my dream, baby has always been a she-baby. Usually, the person I'm showing (it's been my mom more often than anyone else) doesn't think it's too weird that I just pulled the baby out of the front of my stomach, although she does usually make some sort of comment on how I shouldn't have done it, baby needed to grow more, but hey, you have a baby now!

It's weird. I really don't like having this dream.

So, anyone want to psycho-analyze me? I love making up crap to psycho-analyze other people's dreams.

I'm not sure what my shrink self would say to my wanting-to-be-shrunk self, however. Maybe..."You live in constant fear of giving birth." Or..."You're worried about having your baby too early." Or maybe even..."You really wish you were having a girl...today!"

To which I'd reply, "Doc, I don't think I'm really thinking any of those things."

And shrink self would say, "Do not argue with your subconscious!"

And, I guess, I wouldn't have anything to say to that.

Attention Oreo Lovers

I'm not talking to the casual Oreo eater here, people.

This is for Oreo LOVERS. Like, Oreos are as common in your pantry as cereal or pasta or bread. Or you've had Oreos for breakfast before.

Yes, those people. I am looking for you.

I have noticed something about my Oreos as of late. You must know that on a typical Oreo, both sides of the cookie have an imprint on them. It looks like this:



This nifty little design is usually on both outer facing sides of these delectable cookies. Am I right? Of course I am.

Well, in the past (ahem) couple of packages I've bought, there are some cookies that follow this traditional pattern, but then there are OTHER ones that (are you ready for this?) only have this pattern on one side.

The other side?



Blankety-blank.

And THEN, take the cookie apart, and...



The pattern is not gone, it's just facing the cream! So the cream gets on the cookie, and there's a little design imprint in the cream, which I would take a picture of... but (a) it would probably be pretty hard to see anyway and (b) I'm already amazed that Dallin hasn't looked over here to see me taking pictures of my Oreos on the computer. I'm still trying to convince him that I'm normal. It's taking a while.

So anyway, I'm wondering...have I just bought (ahem) a couple of defective packages, or have you other Oreo lovers noticed this too? Why are only some of the cookies put together this way? If this change was made on purpose...why?

Why? Why? WHY?!

And why do I care?