I pride myself on being a relatively self-controlled and competent individual. When I was teaching university English classes, I showed up and gave a passable lecture no matter what was going on in my personal life. I never let the two ooze together, and that was the result of years of training. When I was off-the-cuff, it was usually strategic, and a part of my more general bumbling professor schtick. Not to say that I was calculating, but I knew what I was doing.
So there I was the other morning, sitting down for breakfast with my in-laws, gabbing away about life and all of our baby excitement. I was watching Vince, my brother-in-law, strolling around and patting baby Théo on the back to calm him down. My mind started wandering. I was pre-coffee, so I was probably a little on the dopey side. Lis and her sister and mom were talking about babies and the joys of different holidays and get-togethers. I was envisioning all of it as if I was there, how lovely it would be to see little Théo and our baby playing away on Christmas morning.
In fact, I was so into my little daydream, that I said our baby's name out loud.
As soon as I said it I tried to stuff it back in my mouth by covering it with both hands. My eyes went huge. But alas, no, I had let the secret slip. At first I was the only one who realized what was going on, but then my sister-in-law clued in and started laughing. Everyone was happy and they liked the name, but God I felt like an dumb dumb. That's just not my styles, though I joined in the yuks afterward. What else was I going to do?
I don't know if others have had a similar experience, but we were (and still are) pretty guarded about the name for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, we didn't want to get scooped. It would suck if every second kid in our little one's class had the same name. We did meticulous Google research to make sure that our name was not the most popular one of the year (I pity all the mini Ryan Goslings, for example; I myself was one of 14 Ryan O'Neals in my high school). We also liked the idea of keeping the name our own little secret, just to let it soak in over the next couple of months. My wife was totally cool with my goof-up, as she tends to be about these things, but I still felt like a dimwit. By contrast, I had her engagement ring beside my bed for a month and she still never saw it coming. I must be gettin' old in my old age.
On a slightly grander note, it's funny how having a baby involves this process of unveilings. First you get your initial ultrasound. For us the baby was about the size of a kidney bean and the only distinguishable feature was a heartbeat. Then we got our second ultrasound, where we got to see actual features: a head, hands, feet. After that, we found out the sex, which was, if you read my post, just an amazingly mind-blowing experience. In the future we'll reveal the name and of course the baby himself to the world. Each one of these unveilings seems more astounding than the previous one, and it's cool because the impact of each comes as a complete surprise. I can't wait to see what happens next.
So there I was the other morning, sitting down for breakfast with my in-laws, gabbing away about life and all of our baby excitement. I was watching Vince, my brother-in-law, strolling around and patting baby Théo on the back to calm him down. My mind started wandering. I was pre-coffee, so I was probably a little on the dopey side. Lis and her sister and mom were talking about babies and the joys of different holidays and get-togethers. I was envisioning all of it as if I was there, how lovely it would be to see little Théo and our baby playing away on Christmas morning.
In fact, I was so into my little daydream, that I said our baby's name out loud.
As soon as I said it I tried to stuff it back in my mouth by covering it with both hands. My eyes went huge. But alas, no, I had let the secret slip. At first I was the only one who realized what was going on, but then my sister-in-law clued in and started laughing. Everyone was happy and they liked the name, but God I felt like an dumb dumb. That's just not my styles, though I joined in the yuks afterward. What else was I going to do?
I don't know if others have had a similar experience, but we were (and still are) pretty guarded about the name for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, we didn't want to get scooped. It would suck if every second kid in our little one's class had the same name. We did meticulous Google research to make sure that our name was not the most popular one of the year (I pity all the mini Ryan Goslings, for example; I myself was one of 14 Ryan O'Neals in my high school). We also liked the idea of keeping the name our own little secret, just to let it soak in over the next couple of months. My wife was totally cool with my goof-up, as she tends to be about these things, but I still felt like a dimwit. By contrast, I had her engagement ring beside my bed for a month and she still never saw it coming. I must be gettin' old in my old age.
On a slightly grander note, it's funny how having a baby involves this process of unveilings. First you get your initial ultrasound. For us the baby was about the size of a kidney bean and the only distinguishable feature was a heartbeat. Then we got our second ultrasound, where we got to see actual features: a head, hands, feet. After that, we found out the sex, which was, if you read my post, just an amazingly mind-blowing experience. In the future we'll reveal the name and of course the baby himself to the world. Each one of these unveilings seems more astounding than the previous one, and it's cool because the impact of each comes as a complete surprise. I can't wait to see what happens next.
RSS Feed
