Ears looking at you, kid.

photo from eonline.com

Oh my word, isn't this just what we've been waiting for? The heavyweight fashionista faces of the world combining forces in one room like a hurricane of sophisticated femininity & awesome hair. Obviously, heavyweight is a debatable word to use as they're both slim, perfect lovelies. I think if I was the dude in the tux in the background, I'd be squealing to myself just loud enough that when someone walked by he/she would hear me and would think the palace was nice to hire someone with such questionable mental stability. Everyone would win.

Hey, I'm 21 weeks pregnant now & Fonzarelli is the size of a banana. Last week was a cantaloupe so I guess we're just looking at length or I'm going to be worried about the boy's chub fluctuation. He can hear us now so he'll be tuned in to the 700 books I read Ben every day & will also be very familiar with "No, nooooo, NO! Ben, STOP!" & other such trickles of his mother's day to day wisdom. I do read a lot to Benny boy now that he's suddenly become obsessed with books, which thrills my little soul & I'm making a bit effort to sing to him a lot more so Fonzarelli can get that benefit too. That's right, I just called hearing my own singing a benefit. Humble folk we are here.

And yes, we're pretty darn close to just calling it a day & seriously naming the child Fonzarelli because every naming session we have ends up in appalling conversations like this:

Marcel: He doesn't HAVE to have a U2 name you realize.
Ashley: It's just his middle name & it's the only name we agree on for goodness sake.
M: Well, I don't know about that.
A: Wait, this is coming from the guy who wants to name him after a Star Wars location??
M: It was a joke.
A: No, it wasn't.
M: Welll, it's a cool name!
A: So is Blah!
M: Why would we name our child after a Grand Ole Opry star we don't care about???
A: YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT BLAH???? Who are you?

So on & so forth. At some point in time Marcel points out that the kid doesn't have to have a middle name because he doesn't have one & I blow up like he's just proposed we post an online sex tape or something equally not-going-to-happen-esque. And at some point I say "Would it be terrible to call him Edge?" & Marcel will suggest about 58 hillllllarrrrrious (sarcasm alert) names he just made up on the spot like Cabradon or Broncanus (actually that might be from a movie) & I'll roll my eyes & tell him that I've chosen the middle name so the first name is up to him. He haaaates when I make this move but it usually brings him back to serious names at least.

I realize if we come up with a name now, chances are we'll be sick of it in the next few months so this is probably a bad idea. On the other hand, my ingenious (wow, I apparently didn't know how to spell "ingenious" - that's a slap in the face) solution is to have said name embroidered on something so we can't change it. Isn't that the Golden Rule? Once it is embroidered, it is permanent. Maybe it was in the Bible somewhere? Whatever, it's good.

Oh, I returned to Borders one last time this morning. Everything is now 80% off people - there is no reason to stay away. I got two more notebooks & some other little knick knacky crap for Fonzarelli's future nursery corner. Can I just make something clear to you guys? If you have a birthday, wedding, baby shower, any celebration of any kind coming up, please be aware that you will be getting notebooks from the Eisele family. I apologize in advance but it's going to happen. Do you realize in these weeks of me roaming the Borders closing sales, I have not bought one book? How sad is that? No, maybe I bought a few kids books.

Also, I hit a new low in the pregnancy side effect department. I may have cried just a little to a song playing in Target. It was Landslide. Yeah, that's a beautiful perfect song but this was the Glee version. I tried to block it out, tried to make fun of it but even those overeager kids or Gwyneth Paltrow couldn't butcher it & my hormones got the best of me in the book department (didn't buy any books there either). When I finally got ahold of my tears, I replaced them with the only worse option available ... I sang along. I hope Fonzarelli managed to block all that drama out of his new, delicate little world of hearing.