What's in a name?

You know how people often reflect the characteristics of their given names? A woman named Chastity, for example, isn't as likely to have loose morals. I've been thinking about the name we picked out for our little bundle. Noble is great. Positive connotations all around, and it's a family name to boot. With a last name of Jones, choosing an unusual name is definitely a bonus as well. But maybe we should have held off deciding on Noble's middle name. Cade is Welsh and means "small battle" or "spirit of the battle." I think Noble has taken this as a personal directive against my insides. This morning as we were waking up, Jonathan rolled closer and put his hand on my stomach. Although perfectly still and quiet beforehand, the instant Jonathan's hand made contact it was like a bugle call to war. Noble instantly went bananas exactly where Jonathan's hand was. I think it's probably too late, but maybe we can fake him out and pretend to change his name to Noble Peace.

Eat Your Vegetables

Today I went to a business lunch to welcome a new co-worker. She chose a Chinese buffet. I am not a fan of buffets to begin with, and Chinese even less so. I hate that I don't know when the food was prepared or how many customers have breathed/coughed/sneezed. I hate the avarice that lights up the other customers' faces and I hate waiting in line. Mostly, though, buffets are a waste of money because I can't eat enough to make it worth it. In this case, however, it was a work lunch and I wasn't paying, so whatever.

They had a Mongolian grill section, where you pick out what you want and they grill it for you. I was waiting for my food to cook, and there was a man behind me waiting as well. We had an interesting conversation I thought I'd share:


Man: I love Mongolian barbeque!

Me: I do, too. I love that I can leave out the
vegetables I don't like.

Man: What do you mean?

Me: Well, I can decide what vegetables I want. That's great for me because I don't like many vegetables.

Man: What vegetables don't you like?

Me: I don't like onions, or green peppers, or blah blah blah . . . (I was looking at the vegetable offering at the buffet)

Man: But . . .aren't you expecting?


Like somehow "expecting" means I suddenly love vegetables I hated before! Blegh. Is there a magic "must-love-vegetables" button I forgot to push?

Son of a Grinch

This week marks the first occasion that someone was brave enough to ask me if I am pregnant. In my opinion, asking someone cold "Are you pregnant?" is very brave, and you should be pretty sure of the answer before you ask it. On one hand, that is good. It means I'm getting past "Is she getting fat?" and moving into "Is that a baby bump?" On the other hand, it is more than mildly disconcerting to have your belly stick out further than your boobs (now not inconsiderable), and just as far as your butt in the opposite direction.

Pregnant bellies are weird. Women with pregnant bellies look weird. I am funny looking with a funny looking belly. I recently watched "The Grinch" and can't help but compare myself with Grinch. Not only do we have pretty much the same body type right now (round belly, long feet, and all) but being pregnant makes all my body hair grow. I have fur, yes fur, on my belly. Just like the Grinch. (Jonathan doesn't agree that I have fur, but I have taken to trimming it back, anyway.)

On a positive note, I'm not weirded out by Noble kicking around inside me like I thought I might be. I even like it when he kicks and reminds me he's in there, although I could wish the sensation wasn't quite so squirmy sometimes. I love when Jonathan can feel Noble kicking, which adds a certain challenge to my day when boo is being contrary (maybe he inherited some from me, although I hope not!). That being said, I stand by my opinion that when you can see the baby moving inside someone's belly it's a little too scene-from-Alien to be sweet and precious. I'm not saying it isn't fascinating, but sweet and precious it is not.

Christmas Spectacular Spectacular

Last night we had our second annual Christmas Spectacular (otherwise known as Christmas Spectacular Spectacular). This is basically an excuse for me to steal my siblings (and siblings-in-law) for half a day and ring in the Christmas season.

Our first activity was bowling, and you may be wondering what that has to do with Christmas. Well, not a lot, but we went ice skating last year and between my ice skating prowess and my relatively new status of cooking one up that turned out to be a non-option this year. Bowling has many advantages, the main one being that we got to stay inside. Also, I have never fallen down bowling. At least, not yet. So the activity was deemed warm and relatively safe for the next generation (my oldest sister is also in the family way). The only thing left was to make it somehow a Christmas activity, so obviously we had to all choose Christmas names for the scoreboard:

Name	Christmas Moniker
Michael	Clark Griswold
Danica	Holly Berry
Braden	Buddy the Elf
Jessica	Cindy Loo Who
Jonathan	Jack Frost
Carissa	Snowflake
Maggie	Frosty
Marcie	Candy Cane

Jack Frost and Buddy the Elf. Don't they look festive?

Danica and Michael.

Michael looks like he's really enjoying himself.

Synchronized bowling.
Much easier than synchronized swimming.

Jessica the Ripper.
Yes, she bowled so enthusiastically her pants ripped. Now that is Christmas Spectacular.

Maggie bowls. A strike?

We know Jonathan bowls strikes.
Check out my bowling ball belly!
Marcie bowls a strike:

Jonathan helps his neighbor: