22 May 2010
Man, I can’t believe how much work it is to come up with a name for our baby-to-be.
The other day, Jennifer asked if I would’ve liked to have found out the baby’s gender, and I said “yes and no,” but then I clarified that by saying, “Well, the only reason why I would like to know is so that we only have to pick out one name.” ‘Cause, wow, finding two names is really hard.
For example, in the matter of girls’ names, we pretty much have it narrowed down to two. Jennifer likes both names, but I only really like one of them. Meanwhile, Owen only likes the other one – and I think my wife gives a slight preference to that name. Do we let Owen’s opinion sway us? At five years old, his opinion is bound to change through time anyways. Does it matter if a sibling likes or dislikes the name of their sister?
Girls’ names are further complicated by the middle name. We have many more middle names picked out than first names, but certain middle names only go with certain first names. Make sense?
Boys’ names, meanwhile, are even more troublesome. There is a much smaller pile of names to choose from in the male category, and this evening we spent more time combing over names. Jennifer visited Nimbler and I paged through the book Star Trek: The Next Generation Companion, looking for that one weird alien names that, somehow, ‘works.’ Middle names are likewise troublesome. I thought a middle name for a boy was the one thing we had settled on, but recent discussions and events have thrown our one middle name choice into question.
23 May 2010
What a busy day!
Despite it being a Sunday, I went into work for a few hours this morning. I came home just long enough to pick up Jennifer and Owen and then we were off to a picnic. The picnic was a fundraiser for CampQuest, a camp we think Owen would like to go to when he’s old enough, but in the meantime, we’ll donate to the cause. We thought some of our friends were going to be there but, alas, they were not. This was not surprising in the least, but still disappointing. Owen and I tossed a Frisbee around, but the air was think with humidity, like when you step out of the shower not having turned on the fan.
The humidity wore me out so much that I took a one hour nap on the floor when we got home. Then we left the house again, stopped at Target to buy a railing for Owen’s bed, then attended a deBaptism.
That’s right, a deBaptism. It was held at Al Baker’s restaurant in Eagan. Jennifer and I were expecting to meet up with some friends there, but, alas, they didn’t show up. Huh. That was unexpected.
Anyway, the coordinator, a guy named Eric, was wearing a long purple robe, which gave the effect of making him look like some special ceremonial guy. Yeah, that is the best way to phrase it. He had us go around the room and introduce ourselves. There were ex-Lutherans, ex-Evangelicals, ex-Jews, an ex-Mormon, lots of ex-Catholics, and an ex-Southern Baptist. Jennifer and I were the only ex-Witnesses. After introductions, we each took our turn under the “Hairdryer of Reason,” wherein Eric said some important words about valuing reason over superstition, sprayed us with a mist of (cool) air, and presented us with a certificate saying we were now officially debaptized.Then we ate dinner.
You might think this is a silly thing to do, and you’d be right. Since I now look back on my baptism as a silly ritual, I thought it would be fun to participate in an equally pointless ritual. Of course, since there is no god (not the Watchtower version of God, anyway), my baptism was pointless from a theological standpoint and only served to further the interests of a corporation. So, really, I’d already discarded that event some time ago, but it was fun tonight to make it all ‘official.’
After dining, we went home. Owen and I played with his sidewalk chalk that he got for his birthday (it’s in 3-D!). The three of us walked to Mickey’s Diner for a malt, then we came back home. Jennifer assembled the bed rail for Owen’s bed and I attempted to de-clog the bathroom toilet, which hadn’t worked since last night. The bed rail didn’t fit Owen’s bed, and I can’t get the toilet to work. I just made a mess and, in cleaning the bathroom, used too much bleach and now the bathroom and bedroom smell like a community swimming pool.