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It's been a while since I updated on Jack and his 'isms. The kid is a crack-up.

Husband's injury.
For those of you who don't know (and I can't remember if I already wrote about this here) Husband broke his foot in three places and severely sprained his ankle. So, it's been a rough 2 weeks or so. He's been hobbling around on crutches and a scooter and generally out of commission. On Wednesday of last week, I was picking Jack up from school when he told me that we needed to go to the store. I asked him why and he proceeded to let me know that we were, "Out of Cranberry juice." I suggested that we call Daddy and see if he would like to go with us to the store. With that, Jack sighed loudly and dramatically. I asked him what was wrong. And he said, "Daddy walks like this, Mama. He slow. He should stay home." And then he walked across the parking lot limping and dragging a foot. It was hilarious. Daddy wasn't picked up to go to store.

That's her name.
Jack has always had a bit of an obsession with names. Full names. When he introduces himself it's always, first, last middle. When he talks about Daddy, it's first and last. He named my dad Ga and if you call him anything but, he'll correct you. For the entire visit that his Grandmother was in town from Virginia, he called her by her full name. Grandma and then her last name. EVERY TIME. I tried to tell him Grandma would work and he looked at me like I was insane. "Mama! That's not her name!" he'd say. I brought it up to him several times. Why was he being so formal?! He must have had enough because he looked at me square in the face and said sternly, "'Cause that's her name!" I couldn't argue with him.

Hard as nails.
This past weekend we went to a cousin's baseball tournament in Holland, Mich. Jack was thrilled to see his older, 4th grader cousin and play with her for hours. At the park they had a playground with all the fixings. When it started to get cool, I decided he should put his jacket on. So, I walked over to the swings where he was happily playing. When he saw me, he started to run toward me, excited. I saw the fall in slow motion. The kid just slid across the crummy wood chips and ended up eating some. He laid there for a second. I asked him if he was OK. He shook his head yes, pushed himself up and spitting out wood said, "I tough, Mama. I tough."

***

Baby Rex
23 weeks... 17 to go.
Your baby is more than 11 inches long and weighs just over a pound. He may be able to feel your movements now, so put on some tunes and dance around the house. No matter what race your baby is, he looks red now due to blood vessels showing through his transparent skin. His true skin tone will develop over the course of his first year. Blood vessels in your baby's lungs are developing to prepare him for breathing, but complete lung development will take many more months. The lungs are the last organ to fully develop.

The baby now kicks me if he feels like I have been sitting at my desk too long. He will pound into me until I get up, stretch and walk around for a while. He's very particular about how I sit too. If he doesn't like the postion, he nails me. I am a little worried though. I have 17 more weeks to go and he's only 11 inches, 1 pound. What happens when he's 8 pounds and more?

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Freddie at 6 and a half weeks.

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Turns out R2 (or Baby Rex as Jack calls him) has chosen the perfect year to be born. Not only is this the Year of the Pig, but it's the year of The Golden Pig. This, according to The Seoul Times, comes about every 600 years. Apparently, Korean officials are expecting a 10 percent raise in children born this year. Studies show people of Asian descent waited to have their baby this year. We just got lucky.

"A person born this year is likely to be a good parent. He may be easy to anger, but he is intelligent, honest, courageous, completes projects, gallant, and sincere. People born in these years are honest and straightforward. They can be relied on to see things through. They tend to be popular and make lasting friendships and are good neighbors.

The year 2007 is the "Year of the Pig," according to the Chinese zodiac. But it's not an ordinary pig year, which comes every 12 years it is believed to be the "Year of the Golden Pig," which comes every 600 years, according to fortunetellers.

They say babies born in the golden pig year will have comfortable and wealthy lives.
In line with the myth, signs point to a baby boom this year. Obstetrics and gynecology clinics are counseling more about pregnancy and related industries are eagerly promoting baby products.

Those believing the golden pig year say the special year comes every 600 years when calculating its frequency using a combination of the Chinese zodiac and yin and yang theory."

Well, I don't know about a baby boom everywhere but we've got one going on in our family and with our friends. Since the beginning of the Chinese New Year, three of my friends have had babies. My brother and his wife had a baby. Another friend will have her baby this summer. And Husband's brother and his wife will deliver at the end of July. Baby Rex will have good company in his greatness.

Some historians (according to this article) dispute the folklore and say there's no evidence of this phenomenon. But, hello, its folklore. And it's good folklore. Why not hope that this baby and his cousins and friends will live with great fortune and happiness in life?

So now I am rethinking his dump-truck bedding. Maybe I should get some piggies for his room. Or maybe I will leaving a rambling voicemail on my sister's cell phone listing all the things I would like her to buy me. That's what Jack does. He sees something on TV and immediately says, "I want to buy that! I want to call Stina to have her buy that!" She seems to never answer her phone but that doesn't stop him. He'll list everything he's hoping to get in a long-winded barely audible voicemail.

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The great name debate continues. I promised myself I wasn't going to talk names with anyone and of course ... I am. I took an informal poll with my girls from work and they liked my choice. Husband took an informal poll at his work, and they lean toward his choice. Funny how that works out, eh?

I printed out the top 1,000 names according to the Social Security Administration. It lists each name individually based on spelling. So, for example, there's Fredrick, Frederick, Fred, Freddie, Fredy. These are the legal names that parents give their children. Some are ... interesting. My choice was No. 318. It's a family surname and I was surprised to see it at all. Jack is like No. 14, Jackson in the 40s. Surprisingly, Joseph was like 10.

For as long as I can remember, I have obsessed over people's names. Jack was always my No. 1. This name was always top three. Different middle names but the same first names. I can remember writing lists of names in my diary as a fourth grader. List after list, boys, girls. I think all girls go through a list stage. Favorite TV show, star, boy. It's kind of stupid really. But now I am tempted to dig out my old diary to prove to my two boys that this name has been a top choice for me for decades.

Jack is named after his paternal side. It only makes sense to have this son named after my side.

It's so hard to choose and it's equally hard not to be influenced by people's reactions and suggestions. We had it with Jack and I didn't want to get the same "input" this time around and yet I continuously set myself up for it. Family and friends ask, and then aren't shy to share their reactions. Sometimes, its a nod; sometimes its a facial expression.

Maybe from now on I am just going to say a name that includes a bunch of vowels and an apostrophe. Wouldn't that be nice? An apostrophe would match well with our Irish/Slovak/Austrian background. Paatr'ck?

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Our boy.
(Click on the image to see it larger.)