Like the waves

We just got back from a beachy vacation. A long weekend, really. The beach is one of my favorite places. I feel like listening to the waves feeds my soul in some way. This is the earliest in the year we have ever gone and it was different this time. Not so hot, which was good and not so good. The water was chillier and the overcast skies meant that emerald green water was missing. This was disappointing. But the sand was as white and sugary as ever and Jelly Bean was ecstatic, a huge change from the last time we brought him and he was terrified. Brother played in the waves and Honey and I built castles in the sand. Of course there was a bit of bickering and "I'm bored" and me feeling like I should have been more 'on' to make sure the children were having a Great! Time! But, Dude. This isn't Disney. We should relax a bit, yes? It really was a nice vacation. I think we were all sad to leave and fantasizing just a *little* bit about moving to be there all the time.

It was nice to spend every day, all day with my family. While I was glad to get back to work and my familiar routine, I do miss them all while they are off doing the things they do all day. Work. Study. Play. That coupled with the little baby rolling in my tum much like the waves of the Gulf are rekindling feelings that I wish I could stay at home. I remind myself that last summer when I used my leave and worked part-time it was HARD. It was difficult for me to be patient and deal with the kids in a loving, kind way all day with no breaks. Of course, cramming all my full time work into a part-time schedule was a bit nuts as well. Maybe someone is thinking, like I am thinking, that working part-time is still working? And not the same as staying home full time? Not the same, granted. But is it easier to be home all the time? I don't know. This is an experience I lack. Anyway, at the end of the summer, I felt really grateful for my job and was quite ok with our situation.

Now I am ambivalent. I plan on taking my 12 week maternity leave and then going back to work. Mostly I am at peace with this. But, when the new baby comes, half my paycheck will pay for daycare. While I realize that this is really very inexpensive for three kids, it still smarts a bit. Still, I don't want to try to get by just on Honey's salary. We hypothetically could do it, but it would mean tight belts and no wiggle room. And I do like my job. I like being able to decide to put the kids in activities if I want to put in the time, because the money is there if I choose to use it for that purpose. I like that having more resources gives us more choices. I like staying involved professionally. I also like that my job is flexible and laid back a good bit of the time. This allows me to be more involved in the evenings. (Although I am still tired a lot. Don't get me wrong. But who isn't? I'm just saying, it could be worse.)

I am sending good vibes into the future, hoping, like everything, there will be an adjustment period and then it will be ok.

Another Pregnancy Post

(Note: Not for anyone weak of constitution or in their first trimester.)

Ah, the glories of pregnancy. There are wonderful parts, really. The thumpthumpthumping of the little one under your shirt. Watching your tum roll with waves of movement. The excitement over every little baby you see and coo over thinking, "I'm going to have one of these very soon!"

But then there are other things...

I have terrible heartburn. I know why. I ate a bunch of carbs for breakfast and too little protein and now it feels like someone has dumped noxious acid, or maybe Vodka, down my esophagus and then set it on fire.

So I chew a nasty chalky antacid tablet. And the pain is instantly gone and replaced with...you guessed it...nausea. I may vomit into my trashcan. (What would you rather have? Terrible pain or the nausea-that-never-ends, much like the annoying song.)

My husband made dinner last night. A yummy combination of pasta and vegetables and chicken. It was really good. I brought some for lunch today and reheated it and the pasta and vegetables were yummy, but the chicken was not.

There was nothing wrong with the chicken. It was the same yummy chicken from last night. Except that chicken, today, is disgusting. People who eat chicken are suffering from pica. Especially the chicken in canned soups. (Ug.) I may, once again, vomit into my trashcan.

Food is either indescribably delicious or categorically disgusting. I said to my husband the other day, with a screwed up face of disgust, something like, "Ug, cookies are disgusting. I hate cookies." And he looks at me and says, "You don't hate cookies." Then I retort, "Ok. Usually I don't. But right now for this very minute, they are disgusting." This is how it is.

At the same time, I have eaten some truly wonderful things lately. Like, for instance, the best chicken sandwich of my life. (Please disregard all previous disparaging remarks about chicken.) It was the spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's and, if I could have stopped eating it, I would have built a shrine to it in the addition to my house. I have co-workers who love to go to lunch with me because I get so excited and literally clap my hands when it is lunch time. Some days I could eat and eat and eat. Ok, most days are like that.

But this is the longest the nausea has ever lasted for me. I still have to be exceptionally careful in the mornings or I will spend an absurdly long time gagging into the closest receptacle. And bodily fluids, including my own? Might as well put me to bed with a bucket. Even blowing my own nose is a... problem. To say the least. Of course, not blowing my nose? Even bigger problem. Sometimes I have to walk into a completely different room to mentally dissociate with the grossness that threatened to toss me over the edge.

Just writing this post has made me feel sick.

Little Baby No-Name-Just-Yet

So, let's talk baby names. Because, really, we've got nothing. Well, a bit more than nothing. Frankly, I am not loving any of our options and feel like there is something out there I just haven't heard. I didn't *love* Brother's name when he was born, but I love it now. Classic, but seemingly unused in his age group. Jelly Bean's name I just knew was right. This next little bear? I am unsure.

For various reasons, I am avoiding M names, names that end with N, and names longer than two syllables (due to the infamous hyphenated Last-Name.) Alas, I do like some names that have these qualities, but we are trying to narrow the field, right?

And the finalists are:

• Seth
• Henry
• Luke
• William

Now, I like the idea of having a meaningful/family name as a middle name, but something all his own for the first name. This is how the other two boys ended up being named, although I didn't realize it until I had to come up with another boy name. Honey likes the name Charles for family and meaning. I like the name William for family and meaning. I am not much a fan of Charles because I don't like the way it sounds. Unctuous, maybe, with a touch of snobbery. I guess I feel differently about William because I have known so many Williams, even though, if pressed, I would say they are equally formal. But Honey likes the idea of a little Will running around. And I will admit, that is attractive to me, but still...I don't love the full name of William as a first name.

Brother is rooting for Seth because it happens to be the name of the protagonist in this series of books (which is highly recommended to those who like YA Fantasy, i.e. Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, etc.) Jelly Bean also has a baby in his belly (!!!) and he frequently reminds me "My baby named LUKE!" Accent on the LUKE! Luke may be out because I went around telling what I thought was a very funny joke regarding the name, but I think it turned Honey off a bit because it was slightly at his expense. It's not really a secret that Honey is a big Star Wars fan and a bit of a nerd (What? I *like* nerds.) I told everyone he wanted to name the baby Luke so he could go around saying, "Luke. I am your Father." Ha? Funny, right? Meh, maybe not so much. Honey never actually said this, I just went around spouting it for funsies.

So! All this chatter has left me approximately not at all closer to deciding on a name. Maybe we will just wait until he is born and THEN pick! Or, you know, fret about it for a while longer.