Missing my baby daughter

Cary and Dean left this morning, and as usual, took their sweet time going down the front stairs, stopping to play with the toys on the porch, touch the pumpkin, meddle with the fall decorations, refuse to have their hands held, etc.

The good news is, all that dawdling gave Clair time to limp-crawl all the way over to the front door, where she got to laugh and shriek, as she watched her big brothers go.

When Sara joined her at the door, I had to break out the iPhone and snap a pic:

Everybody altogether now: Awwwwww!

I love this picture because I have lately been feeling quite sad about how little time I get to spend with my baby daughter. It's the same ole story of being a working Mom and too busy, blah blah blah, but it's made worse by the fact that I have TWO very demanding 2-year-olds who completely set the agenda for what little time I do have in the mornings and evenings. To be honest, most of the one-on-one time I get with Clair is when I'm feeding her at night, just before she drifts off to sleep. It's sweet time, for sure, but it sucks that it's so short.

So looking at this reminds me that -- although she will all-too-soon join the boys on the way out the door every morning -- for now, she is on the inside of this screen door.

And therefore, for a little while longer, she is still my baby. And I WILL find more time for her. I will.

What's in a name?

Lester and I STILL don't have a name for our baby.

I am 26 weeks today, and I know we have plenty of time, but it just seems so weird because by this time in my last pregnancy, we knew who both babies were and called them by name. (In the house that is. We kept their names a secret from the world until they were born).

Cary's name came from Lester's mom-- who died when he was just 19. Carrie (his mom) was the only parent Lester had, and she was his very best friend. They were seriously inseparable; even after he went away to college, they talked on the phone just about every day. She died of a heart attack, alone in her house, on Lester's birthday weekend before he could get home from school to go spend the weekend with her. :-(
I never got to meet his Mom, but I could tell from the stories he told me, and from Lester's amazing character and capacity for love, that she was a truly, wonderful woman. Even before we got married, we said if we ever had a baby boy, we'd name him Cary, after her.

So Cary got to be Cary -- as a result of being Baby A -- and all we had to do was come up with a name for Baby B.

Over the course of a week or so, we tossed out a few options, and vetoed most of them. (Funny: Both of us liked the name Grant for a boy, but you can't name one baby "Cary" and then name his brother "Grant." I mean, come on.)

But pretty much right after the gender scan, when we knew we were having two boys, we settled fairly quickly on Dean. I thought it sounded smart. Lester agreed and said it had the added benefit of sounding strong. So Dean it was. Just like that. (And we were right on the money with that one. Dean is SO Dean...)

Later on, after they were born, many people told us that the names sounded "Old Hollywood" to them, but we honestly hadn't thought of that when we named the boys. But now, when people ask us how to spell their names, we always say, "Cary, like Cary Grant. And Dean, like James Dean (or Dean Martin)."

Anyway, so now here we are with a girl child growing inside me. We did have a list of potential girl names picked out for Baby B when we didn't know what his/her gender was. But for various reasons, none of them work anymore. (We don't want to name this baby a family name, for one thing, because Cary has a family name, but Dean doesn't. No need to perpetuate the "middle child syndrome.")

We have tried to think of elegant-sounding "Old Hollywood" names, since we inadvertently started a theme here with the boys' names. But the only ones I like -- Ava, Grace and Lana -- won't work either. There are too many Avas these days (it's on all the most popular baby names lists, in the top 10, no matter which one you check); Lester doesn't like the name Grace; and my sister's youngest girl is named Alahna, but we just call her Lahna, for the most part.

And we've pretty much settled on short, one- or two-syllable names, so that eliminates hundreds and hundreds of perfectly good names out there.

Sooo...we're stuck.

To be truthful, we have agreed on three names, off and on, throughout this pregnancy. But then I always decide I don't like them anymore -- and I honestly can't tell you why. We'll just start calling her by the name we think we've decided on and then one day, it rings hollow in my ears.
"That's not her name anymore," I'll declare, pulling the covers back to get into bed at night. And Lester will look at me, sigh, and groan.

Yesterday, as I was doing the dishes, looking at her sonogram picture on the refrigerator, I just flat out asked her, "What is your name, child?!?"

And just like a girl, she is being coy. She won't tell me.

I'm hopeful that at some point -- soon -- she will. Until then...Curve Ball it is.