Reading posts about the “state of kid parties” like this and this have really resonated with me for a couple of reasons, including that I guess that I’m a bit of a traditionalist and growing up, my family’s traditions had a level of simplicity to them. Traditions like getting to choose what you wanted for your birthday dinner, what kind of cake you wanted (Duncan Hines Strawberry, please) and the simple joy of waking up to a greeting of streamers and balloons hung in the kitchen.  With Punkin’ Bear facing the big 0-3 in just a couple of weeks and this being the first birthday where she actually understands the concept well enough to look forward  to it instead of just having presents “randomly” given to her one day, it’s amazing how simplicity seems to be exactly what she wants.

How do I know this? Because Punkin’ has been dropping hints for the past 3 weeks about what she wants for her birthday and her birthday party. Sorry did I say hints? Actually, I guess to clarify, I should say she has been making requests – given in the form of the pretend birthday that we’ve celebrated every day for the last 3 weeks.  Each day, Punkin’ focuses on a new, imaginative part of her big day. One day it’s the cake she wants, the next day the gifts, followed by who will be at her party, what type of decorations will be included and more.  She’s not asking for a trip to Disney World or for a trip to the spa for all of her friends (and, yes, I do know of a family who arranged for manicures, pedicures and hair styling for 20+ three-year-olds!). She’s just looking forward to the good ol’ fashioned fun like balloons, party hats, a birthday cake with “extra sprinkles” on it and to have Nana, Pop-Pop, Grandma, Grandpa and her cousins there to celebrate with her.

Seeing her enthusiasm, imagination and the pure innocence she speaks with when talking about how much she can’t wait for her birthday makes me as excited about the big day as she is. Now if only I can figure out where to find the astronaut suit she’s been asking for…

There is something that has amazed me about each ultrasound I’ve had (two with Punkin’ Bear and two so far with BrotherSister). It’s not that you doubt that you’re pregnant, because you have the pitter patter of little feet and bops of little hands inside your tummy to remind you of that. It’s just an overwhelming mix of joy, excitement and to some extent relief to see those 10 little fingers and 10 little toes. It’s a fun experience as you try to determine “Who’s chin does he have” or “Oh, that’s definitely your nose” (this level of detail has been made possible with the 4D ultrasounds).It’s a glimpse into who this little person is that you’ve been nurturing and feeling for months. 

And for many, that in and of itself is all they need to know and to keep them going until they meet their baby face to face.  But, for others, there’s one additional, practical side to an ultrasound…it’s something everyone asks you when you’re pregnant: “Are you going to find out what you’re having?” Well, I’m one of those who couldn’t resist. I tried to when presented with the prospect before going into my very first ultrasound, but all of the practical, rational reasons kept piling up. Weellll…it would be nice to know what color to paint the nursery. And it couldn’t hurt to start buying some of those adorable outfits in pink or blue. And for a couple of people as indecisive as my husband and me who can’t even narrow down what we want for dinner within a reasonable timeframe, you can only imagine what we faced with selecting a name. So why not at least narrow it down between boys names and girls names? It actually wasn’t a decision that we came to easily, but once we did it seemed to work out well. During Punkin’ Bear’s ultrasound, the doctor gave us clear, concise “visual aides” that we were having a little girl. And so the planning began. 

Flash forward to BrotherSister’s ultrasound. This time the decision to find out came with much less hesitation. It seemed to work out well the first time and all. And as with Punkin’ Bear, it was absolutely amazing and awe-striking to see that beautiful little baby moving around. And after we were done counting fingers and toes and determining who’s nose the baby has, and the time came for the doctor to show us whether PB was in fact going to have a brother or a sister, our sweet little baby decided to cross her legs and make it pretty tricky to come to a conclusion. So for the rest of the procedure, we saw little hands moving, feet kicking and a head bopping, but low and behold no way were those little legs going to budge. Then, at the very end in a last ditch effort, the doctor tried to view things from a different angle which resulted in the opinion that she was 80% sure we’re having a girl.  

While 80% are admittedly good odds, there is still a 20% chance that she is a he. These are the same odds that we were given with Punkin’ Bear, but for some reason I’m just not so sure that BrotherSister is a sister. It could be an intuition of sorts, or perhaps it’s because my two pregnancies have been pretty different (though I hear from quite a few other second time parents that it doesn’t really mean anything). Or it could even be because Punkin’ Bear has recently taken to calling BrotherSister just Brother despite us telling her numerous times that she’s having a sister. And of course, there’s the “hearbeat myth”. I’ve always heard that boys heartbeats are in the 140s, which is what BrotherSister’s heartbeat has been over my past few visits, and girls heartbeats are typically in the 150-160 range.  

Despite not knowing whether we need to narrow our names down between boy or girls names, or whether we need to go buy some little boy outfits and steer clear from painting the nursery in purple and pink, I have to admit it is kind of fun not knowing. It’s added a level of excitement to an already highly anticipated event – meeting our new little baby in just a 2 ½ more months! I would love to know, though, if you’ve had any similar intuitions or incidents with your ultrasound “prediction” turning out the opposite when your baby did arrive- drop me a comment!

Coming off what was an amazing first pregnancy and delivery (well, at least in my mind it was) with a baby that slept well right off the bat, barely cried and gave us plenty of happy smiles and coos, I felt incredibly lucky that Punkin’ Bear decided to take it easy on her dear old parents.  But now that I’m expecting my second little one, deep down I must admit that it in some way it leaves me wondering “Did I have anything to do with Punkin’ Bear’s happy disposition and easy-going nature?” Okay, let me rephrase.  I’d like to believe that I had something to do with her happy disposition and easy-going nature. And thus, out of that have been born some admittedly silly superstitions for my second pregnancy. 

 Well, maybe they’re not exactly superstitions, they’re more like idiosyncrasies. Regardless of what you call them, my rational mind tells me that they had little to do with my little girl being such a happy, loveable and smart child. Yet I still find myself inexplicably eating almonds every day because deep down I suspect that the fatty omegas fed into her mental development. Are they reason she can count to 10 in Spanish and read and she’s not even three (did I read that somewhere)? Or, if you step into my car, you’ll only hear “easy listening” music, which is not my first preference, but my intuition tells me that exposing my tummy to slow paced, soft music is the reason she was such a calm infant.  And do I really believe that making sure I watch at least one TV show a week that makes me laugh hysterically is the reason that Punkin’ Bear laughs and laughs at the silliest things? Rationally, no. But deep down, yes.

 I know that we’re going to feel like the luckiest people in the world no matter what BrotherSister’s disposition is or how well she does or doesn’t sleep for us during her first months, but as most parents you do everything you can to make sure that the odds are stacked in her favor. If it means being a little silly or superstitious then that’s what I’ll do. After all, do baseball players really believe that wearing the same pair of socks without washing them all season helps their game? Rationally, probably not. But deep down, yes.

I know I’m not the only one! I’d love to hear what your superstitions and crazy idiosynchracies  are. (so maybe I don’t feel so silly)

What’s in a name? When my husband and I found out we were expecting our little lady, we spent hours and hours scouring through name books and websites like most new parents do; researching names, meanings and even popularity (hint: for those of you currently on the hunt, check out the social security website-believe it or not, it’s one of the better sources to see how the names you like stack up in the popularity poll). Oddly enough, all of that went down the drain literally within 24 hours of her arrival. While we spent all of this time picking out a name for the rest of society to call her, we immediatly found ourselves gravitating towards a term of endearment. Somehow that name we picked from a website just didn’t seem to convey how much we felt for her.

So it was decided - she was now our “Bear”. And Bear it was. At least for her first 6 hours in the world. But, there was something incredible about her that we just couldn’t ignore and neither could any of the nurses that came into the room. She had this head of hair that you couldn’t believe. I’m talking, hair like she stopped at the wig shop on the way out kind of hair. This crazy, black, all over the place, punk rock looking hair. And there you had it. She quickly became our Punkin‘. No, not as in a cute round vegetable, but as in a crazy haired little rocker. And before we knew it she evolved from her rightful, societal name into “The Punkin’ Bear”

That stuck around for quite a while…until we hit teething. It seemed like it came out of no where, but we awoke to find this crazy little tooth poking out of her gums. It, as everything about her, was just so cute that it warrented its own naming. Thus, she grew to be known as our Toofy Punkin’ Bear.

But it didn’t stop there. A few weeks later, that lone little, cute little tooth met its match. And not in the form of the two front teeth that most babies have. No, her first two teeth were fangs on each side of where her two front teeth should have been. When matched with that brillant smile of hers, she became our Goofy Toofy Punkin Bear. Yes, quite a mouthful indeed (excuse the pun) but seemed to fit her.

Fortunately for her, all of her teeth have since grown in and we’ve dropped the Goofy Toofy part. Now she’s simply our Punkin Bear, our Bear, our Punkin. But rarely is she ever her real name. To the point where she recently became very upset with us when we called her by her true name. “I am NOT - I AM the BEAR!”

We’re now expecting our second baby; again searching the books and scouring the websites for a name. Probably a bit futile given that we now understand what truly goes into a name. Fortunately this time we have some help - Punkin’ Bear has already given us a head start…(drumroll please)…our new little joy is affectionately known as “BrotherSister”. No mom, I’m not having twins. We just lost the “or” in there somewhere. Stay tuned to see where the Baby #2 Name Game takes us.

Have you had your own Baby Name Game? What’s your child’s nickname and why? Please let me know in the comments below!