I am Bubble Boy!

I have a confession. Melissa and I have been sleeping in separate rooms.

It’s not because we’re fighting, or because she has snoring issues (she does), but because I was sick. I was placed in quarantine. I had become, like John Travolta and Jake Gyllenhall before me… “Bubble Boy”.

Melissa would have absolutely put me in a bubble if she could have.

And with good reason. I had a triple-digit fever, chills, headache, body aches, muscle aches. Even my aches ached. The last thing we need is for Melissa to get sick.

Luckily, it turns out Melissa is biohazard suit short of being a one-woman haz-mat crew. Much of the house now has the “fresh linen” scent of Lysol. Disinfectant wipes were used on everything else… even the dog.

Now, despite my quarantine Melissa still did her best to take care of me. It’s no easy task. I’m not exactly a peach to be around when I’m sick. I whine. I complain. I mope. I don’t listen to medical advice. I drive her crazy.

Like a trooper Melissa delivered soup, medication, even called work to tell them I wouldn’t be there. Perhaps the best example of her incredible bedside manner was when I told her (in an extremely sick and grumpy moment), “your bedside manner sucks” and she didn’t hit me (and she probably should have). In fact, she continued to take care of me.

If I learned anything during my three-day illness it’s this: If Melissa takes care of our baby half as well as she took care of this baby, then she’s going to be a wonderful mother.

By the way… now that my “bubble” has burst. I should fess up… she doesn’t really have a snoring issue. (Besides, I don’t want to sleep in separate beds anymore.)

Let the NAMES Begin!

Two things you should know about names and me. First, I insisted we wait until the 12-week mark to even begin the discussion. I’m superstitious enough that I didn’t want to jinx my own baby.

Second, taking a page out of our friend Deirdre’s book, we’re not going to tell anyone what the name is until after the baby is born. I don’t want to tell someone we’re naming our daughter Helga (which we’re not) and them tell me that there was a Helga in their 5^th grade class who had a cleft lip and smells of cabbage (small hands). Or, that the only Helga they knew was a floozy who slept with the entire dorm. Kind of sullies the name, don’t you think?

We also face another interesting challenge. My wife is Hispanic. My last name is not. Choosing a Hispanic first name will only cause an identity crisis for our child. Juan Chechourka? Let’s just name them “Ethnic Ambiguity”.

Looking for some inspiration we bought a book called “Cool Names for Babies”. While it has some good suggestions… it also has the following:

For Boys:

Link- It suggests this, but not Zelda. Glaring omission.

Legolas- Only if my child has pointy ears and hangs out with a hobbit

Wolverine- Seriously? How can I convince Melissa of this? Wolverine Chechourka!!!

XXXX- How would you even pronounce this?

For Girls:

Bloodrayne- This is the name of a half-dressed killer Vampiress. No thanks.

Blanche- Are we having a Golden Girl?

Fanny- I bet she’d NEVER get picked on.

Zeke- Under the chapter, “Geezer Names for Girls”. Hi, this is my daughter, Zeke.

Sigh. Good thing we still have 5 months to come up with something.

Ready... Register!

Nearly as dangerous as a real gun in my hand.

I had never been to a Babies R Us before. Why would I? Unless you have kids, or know somebody having kids, you wouldn’t go. Let me tell you something. That place is both WONDERFUL and OVERWHELMING.

As first-time parents, we need everything. Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue what “everything” includes.

The good news, the fine people at Babies R Us have complied a list for us. To get it, all we had to do was open a registry. (This is a good time to mention that registering for my wedding was painful. Thankfully, Melissa did 99% of it. I would have rather ordered invitations a hundred times over than look at plates again. I’m still not sure why we needed plates with Christmas trees on them).

This was different. Once that zapper gun was handed over… I was unleashed!

I didn’t just scan, I scanned with flair! I pulled the zapper gun out of my imaginary holster like I was in the OK Corral. I did a 360-spin scan. I went through the legs. (Ok, I didn’t actually do that, but I will next time.) No baby product was going to escape the reach of my zapper’s red beam.

I scanned bottles, bibs, thermometers, Baby Bjorns, cradles, cribs, and some kind of steamer/sterilizer thing. I even scanned a Nintendo Wii. Why does a baby need a Nintendo Wii? Who cares? I just know my baby’s going to want one (and his or her daddy does too!).

In the end our first trip to Babies R Us turned out to be a lesson in gun control. Not the kind that makes NRA members shudder… but the kind where Melissa takes the zapper away from me.

If you want to buy our baby something (or me a Nintendo Wii) check out our registry at Babies R Us. It’s under Chechourka.