Name Games

“What’s his name?”

That is the question we have been bombarded with since learning the gender of our baby.

Back in May, when I told friends and family that we hadn’t yet chosen one, that answer was accepted.  After all, we still had several months left to figure out this piece of impending parenthood.

But now, with my due date fast approaching, the question comes more and more frequently and we are no closer to having an answer than we were back then.

Brent and I narrowed down our large list of baby names to six that we both really liked back in June.  And then all discussion on the topic ceased.

I’ve been gently (oh so GENTLY) trying to broach the subject with him since then, but to no avail.  He is literally incapable of having a serious conversation about baby names right now.

And he’s totally screwing with me.

Last month he said to me, “I think we should name him a ‘Z’ name, like Zoltar.”

Then last week, as I lay in bed dozing, Brent whispered into my ear, “How about Cosmo or Filipe?”

Did you really just wake me up for THAT?

This is not only driving me crazy, but also our friends and family.  My die-hard Irish Catholic friend Margaret is threatening to steal the birth certificate and name this baby herself.  Undoubtedly something like Sean, Patrick or Ian.

Me?  I’ve adopted a new, albeit unlikely, theory that Brent has come up with a name that will perfectly suit our little one and will share it with me shortly after his birth. I’m at ignorant peace with it at this point in time.

All I have to say is that it had better be good, Mister.