Thursday, October 1, 2009
Slowly but surely it’s dawning on Elijah that there is another baby coming who is about to ruin his life. He will point at Diana’s belly and say, “There’s a baby in there.” To which I say, “Careful. Mommy is not happy about her big belly. We do not point at Mommy’s big belly. We don’t not mention Mommy’s big belly. We do not think about Mommy’s big belly...”
He also delights in laying in the bassinette we’ve positioned in the dining room we converted into a bedroom. Which was a bedroom before we converted it into a dining room. I apologize to anyone whose head just exploded. But we’re trying to discourage him from laying in the bassinette, because I don’t think our new son will appreciate being smothered by his older brother.
Earlier today, Diana was driving Elijah to Lamb’s Farm. To look at pumpkins. I’m not sure what lambs have to do with pumpkins. Add to that Lamb’s farm is also a home for the mentally handicapped and it’s best not to try to figure it out and just keep this story moving.
Diana asked Elijah his opinion on our frontrunner first name.
Just a sec. We’ve decided not to tell anyone our potential first name anymore. Because whenever we solicit opinions, everyone just gives us their opinion like we asked. Mostly responses have been luke warm at best and downright hostile at worst. And it’s not like we’re suggesting something horrible like Hitlersatan. And since we aren’t getting the response we want, we’ve given up until it’s attached to an unbelievably cute baby. At which point people will be forced under law to say, “Oh my. He looks just like a Hitlersatan!”
Back to the car. Diana asked Elijah, “Eli, what do you think of the name (name withheld) for your new brother?”
“You don’t like it?”
“Well, than what name do you want?”
Bruce? Bruce? This name, aside from being completely awesome, came completely out of thin air. As far as I can tell, Eli has never met a Bruce in his life. There is no Bruce on the two TV shows he watches. His teachers are all ladies, none of them named Bruce. And there is no one at his school whose parents are gutsy enough to name a child Bruce. And I’m sorry to Mr. Springsteen, but we do not listen to his special brand of soulful New Jersey music.
Bruce. I like the ring of it.