Category Archives: Motherhood

How To Choose A Baby Name In 10 Not So Easy Steps

Psst…I have to confess I stopped painting after 15 days. My #30in30 challenge fizzled. I’m blaming it on pregnancy hormones, the desire to clean out all the things, and the fact that I only have a couple of weeks to prepare for the next art show. I’ll do better next year!


There are many instructions out there on how to choose a baby name. I know because I have read them all. Naming a baby is a big responsibility and you can’t take it lightly. My husband and I certainly didn’t and certainly don’t. When we were naming Tiny-Small it took us months to decide. We went around in circles. Now, as we are approaching the baby naming task for the second time, I am starting to see a pattern emerge.

Step 1: Make a giant list of names from every baby naming source you can get your hands on. Scour the internet. Read old baby name books from yard sales. Scroll through every name on Facebook. Write down the names you love and even the names you can merely live with. Then read the list to your husband.

Step 2: Have your husband hate every single name on the list. Every single one because they remind him of an ex girl friend, an ex co-worker, or an ex-something or other and anyway those are just the worst names ever.

Step 3: Ask husband to make a list of names he does like. Listen to your husband make up random syllables that aren’t real names, because he thinks it is funny, while you try not to tear your own hair out. Watch as he teaches your daughter to play along until you find yourself rocking in a corner thinking maybe “Goobie-Doobie” is a name you could possibly live with.

Step 4: Ask friends and family for name suggestions. Realize you hate all of the names in the whole world. Who came up with these names anyway?

How to choose a baby name in 10 not so easy steps.

Step 5: Either you or your husband blurt out a name in a fit of desperation and then you both cling to it because neither of you hate it and it just might mean the odyssey of baby naming is at an end.

Step 6: Tell a few people the name you have chosen. Watch their faces crumple in disgust because they think it’s weird or old-fashioned or too common or too uncommon or it’s the name of their ex-something something. Decide you don’t care because you have finally found a name you and your husband can agree on so the rest of the world will just have to learn to love it.

Step 7: Fight over how to spell it.

Step 8: Wish you could drink margaritas, but you can’t because you are pregnant. Think Margarita might be a pretty name….

Step 9: Stop telling people the name you have chosen and tell them you are still deciding, because if you tell them, they will bemoan how you didn’t name your child after Aunt Bertha. Or that you need to add a few more middle names to keep the peace. Or that the name you’ve chosen sounds like something you’d name a dog.

Step 10: Have baby, fall madly in love with both baby and chosen name. Think your husband is a genius. Watch everyone else fall in love with your baby despite her name. Live happily ever after. The end.


P.S. We are having a girl! Leave your name suggestions in the comments below or forever hold your peace.


Motherhood Is Like Being On Stage With Your Mic Turned Off

This morning I was in the shower, where I have all of my epiphanies, and I realized motherhood is like being on stage with your mic turned off. People are expecting you to perform and solve their problems and just be awesome, but at the same time they can’t seem to hear a word you are saying.

The other day, for instance, I was in the shower when I heard someone yelling, “Mom? Mom? Mom!” The yelling was coming from downstairs, but I figured if I could hear yelling someone could surely hear me yelling back, “I’m in the shower!” but I was completely wrong. This is what happened instead.

“Mom? Mom? MOM! Where are you, Mom? MOM!”

“I’m in the shower! I’m upstairs in the shower.”

“Mom? I can’t find you. Where is mom?”

“I’m upstairs in the shower!”

“Mom? I’m all alone. My mom left me. Maaaaaaaawwwwm. Maaaaaawwwwm!”

“I am right here in the shower!”

“Nobody is going to take care of me. Mom? Mom? Oh no, where is my Mom? Maaaawwwwwm!”

“In the shower! Upstairs!”

“Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? MOM!”

At this point I just couldn’t yell anymore so I jumped out of the shower, flung open the bathroom door and yelled, no screamed, “I-AM-IN-THE-SHOWER!” I wanted to yell something more like, “I am in the #$%&! shower!” but I didn’t because I am a mother and you aren’t supposed to swear at children even if you really, really want to.

Then I felt a hand on my wet, soapy leg. I looked down and there is my daughter staring up at me, “Why are you yelling, Mom? I heard you the first time.”

Again, swearing at children is against the parenting code of ethics so I just gave her my best stink-eye and tried not to grind my teeth.

Whatever. I’m a grownup. I have to act like one.

Motherhood Is Like Being On Stage With Your Mic Turned Off

I got back in the shower while my daughter stood in front of the mirror putting my face cream on her body like spackling. I was just grateful that the yelling had ended. As I was rinsing my hair the water from the showerhead sort of faded into a mere trickle. My house was built in the 80’s so the plumbing is a mystery. If you flush a toilet while someone is in the shower the water just stops coming out of the shower head and because we have an on-demand water heater the water also gets ice-cold.

My husband, even with all of the yelling back and forth between his wife and daughter for the past five minutes, had no idea that I was upstairs in the shower. Even though I had specifically told everyone, “I’m going to take a quick shower,” just moments before taking said shower, my family had no clue what had happened to me or where I was. I stood in the shower, naked and freezing with shampoo dripping into my eye waiting for the water to come back on. I thought all the swears…every single one, but I remained silent and started plotting my revenge. I haven’t taken an uninterrupted shower in five years. I swear, if I try to take a shower when nobody is home my husband will mysteriously arrive having forgotten something and flush the toilet, run the dishwasher, or decide to wash his hands as if he were scrubbing in for surgery. I plot my revenge on a regular basis these days. Five years of revenge is staring to take a toll.

Anyway, that’s another story for another day.

What I really want to say is I know my family isn’t deaf because they¬† hear other people speaking and they hear dogs barking. They laugh at funny things said on cartoons and comment on birds singing. My daughter can hear a whisper about chocolate ice cream from a mile away. My husband can sing the words to all of his favorite songs with accuracy. My family members can physically hear, but for some reason they cannot seem to hear me.

That’s why motherhood is like being on stage with your mic turned off. People see your lips moving, but apparently no sound is coming out…unless you yell and scream really, really loudly. Then they just act like you are a total lunatic because at that point, naked, shooting daggers out of your eyes with soap bubbles sliding down your cheek, you really are a lunatic.

Motherhood. It’s a mad house.

Pass the chocolate.



Access Your Medical Records Online (Maybe)

I was sitting in an exam room waiting for my doctor to pop in and I didn’t have anything to do but read the signs and posters on the wall. So I did. All of them. I can now name all of the parts of my lady anatomy in graphic detail and I can also tell you how dangerous Whooping cough can be. I memorized every stage of fetal development and can now recite the phone number to sign up for the local hospital maternity tour. I’m also aware that it is my responsibility, and mine alone, to make sure my insurance plan is accepted by all medical referrals I receive. In short, I’m practically a walking encyclopedia on maternal health in a rural town in South West New Mexico.


One thing that especially caught my eye was a sign urging people to “Sign up to access your medical records online today!” It caught my eye because it was displayed on three different walls. Plus, getting information out of my doctor is like pulling teeth. Having access to my records would be really helpful. I’m the kind of person that feels better with more information instead of less. I want to analyze results and compare them to past tests and Google them to my hearts content. It’s one of the things I live for.

Anyway, on the way out of the office I stopped by the front desk and asked if I could sign up to view my records online. The receptionist at the front desk looked up at me with confusion. I told her I had read the sign posted all over the walls and thought it would be a good idea to sign up. Finally a look of recognition swept over her face and she said, “Oh, that system has been down for about three months.” Then she leaned towards me and whispered, “Besides, the doctor doesn’t give you access to anything like test results so accessing your records online here is pretty much useless.”

So, there you have it. Life in a small town. Sometimes it’s maddening. Sometimes it is funny. Sometimes it is both. There are always outdated things posted to walls and information is so valuable even doctors hoard it.