Since we already have a perfect name picked out for a girl, we've been throwing around boy names to see if we can agree on one. So far, no luck. Boy names are stupid or just played out or too predictable. Boy monikers are so ordinary and typically associated with an already established strong character, either hero or villain. Carey wore me down to have her dad's name be included if we have a male. So the middle name is Samuel and the last name is Wagler (her idea). It's the first name that's the challenge. Last time around I almost got her to agree to the name Dean. Dean Samuel Wagler which would be sweet except that his initials would be DSW (Designer Shoe Warehouse). I had several epiphanies during one of these name game conversations and remembered a far out guy in elementary school named Cosmo. The last day of fourth grade he showed up to school with a full-on mohawk. That guy was awesome! I'm also partial to naming our boy Blue (not really, but Carey hates it so much I can't help but keep up the charade). Both names Carey absolutely despises. She's dropped Harrison and George a few times pretending like it was the first time she thought of them. I didn't buy it and I'm not a fan. It's a good thing we're having a girl.
Carey is still afflicted with the gift of superpower smell. Last night she had to hide upstairs while my jasmine rice cooked. Rice! How could she be bothered by the aroma of delicious rice? This is definitely a different side effect of her pregnancy. She's also lost her appetite and gets a little bit sick just about every day. We are hoping these are positive signs toward a healthy term.
The other night Carey told me that I love her more when she's pregnant. She thinks I'm more affectionate, or patient or whatever. I think it's just because she's really happy being pregnant. When she's in a pleasant mood and not focusing on what she thinks I should be doing at that very moment, then yes, maybe I am nicer. But then out of the other side of her mouth she hinted that I need to read up and be knowledgeable on all of the parenting styles. Being a hater of self-help type books, I declined. She pushed a little more accusing me of probably being a pushover if for instance our child throws a tantrum. Naturally I took umbrage and sarcastically thanked her for her vote of confidence. We're like 7 weeks in and she's already criticizing my untested parenting skills. In public I think I'll be pretty good about shutting down tantrums or taking the screaming child out of the environment for a few basic reasons. First off, I hate, hate, hate parents that ignore their shrilly, wale-of-the-banshee children. It is the bane of my otherwise lovely existence working at the public library. Secondly, I've got anxiety issues (panic attacks) that would force me to react quickly in a public scene. To keep myself from freaking out, I feel I would be practiced and on top of that situation. So there. It is true, however that I'm not by nature a disciplinarian. But that's because I am a rebel at heart. I'm anti the man. I'm more of an outlaw then a member of the law. Rules are for squares and so on. But I can play bad cop if need be. I'll just need some practice.
Carey's lack of appetite for food is unfortunately in balance with her appetite for
the physical expression of love, if you know what I mean. Our sessions have dropped dramatically to once a week and now we are pushing beyond that which is very unusual in our 6 almost 7 year relationship. At this stage in the game the most exotic, kinky crazy sexual thing I can even imagine is me and Carey in a two-way. The one-way I've got down, rest assured. I'm ready for stage two pregnancy where Carey's libido is in fifth gear. We'll see how THAT goes for a change.
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