Daycare Hunters

M and I are on the hunt for daycare for Mr. B. Specifically, daycare for Mr. B that would begin next August. We have toured five or six places, all of which, I think, would treat Mr. B right but some of them seem like happier, brighter daycares with manageable waiting lists. (i.e. 9 months or less).

During all of these visits, I keep waiting for Suzanne Whang to pop out from behind a bush and introduce our "options." "M and C are lesbians having a baby and looking for daycare for their daughter. Daycare one is at the top of their price range but close to Caitlin's office . . ."

What Suzanne would also tell you is that we have narrowed our options down to two and put waiting list deposits down on two of them. The "before list" is feeling more and more manageable. Thank God.

My new bffs

I like TV. I like it a lot and now I like Kynt and Vxysin, "dating goths" from Louisville who are currently running The Amazing Race. I like their makeup (reminds me of Dead or Alive). I like their attitude and lack of verbal abuse and I like how they spell their names. They are way better than the midget and her bitchy cousin.

Say hello to my little friend

Here's Mr. B at 34 weeks. Well, her body is 34 weeks. Her head is 36. She's gifted! She is also breech at the moment. We're hoping she will turn in the next two weeks. M is doing yoga exercises to encourage her to move into the proper "head first" position. I am walking around the house singing "turn the b(eat) around" while doing the "cabbage patch" cause that's how I roll.

Backstory

I realized after completing the last post that a little backstory might be in order. So, quickly . . . M and I are two ladies having a baby. That is, M is pregnant with our daughter due January 1, 2008.

What? how, you ask? Well, we went the “medically assisted” route. After six trys it took. Thanks, Dr. T.

And no, the “donor” is no one you know.

"No, what’s it called?!"

Upon learning that M and I were having a baby, Asher, who happens to be my favorite three year old on the planet, demanded to know from his mother, the lovely Claire, what we were naming our daughter. (Yes, it is a girl. Well, at least according to the amnio. That can’t be wrong, can it?)

“You know. Freddy, Teddy, what’s it called?” Asher emphatically inquired after clearing up any confusion that he in fact understood that a baby was on the way. His mother patiently explained to him that we were having a girl and we would choose her name and announce it to friends and family upon her arrival. Well, this didn’t sit well with Asher and in a moment of great clarity and wisdom announced that her name will be “Mr. Baby.” M and I immediately decided that this was probably the greatest thing ever said by a child and have thus christened our daughter, at least in utero, Mr. Baby.

Side note: Not only is Mr. Baby the perfect moniker, it brings with it the added bonus of deflecting the whole “name question.” Once you tell the Mr. Baby story people forget to ask what name you have “really” picked out for the kid. M and I choose our daughter’s real name months ago. (Occasionally we look at each other and ask if we are totally sure, but it has been a fait accompli since the day we learned she was a girl). It is not that we care what people’s reactions are going to be to the name—you like it or you don’t—we have just found the occasional negative response to be awkward and weird. So, we have decided to now keep the name on the dl.

And so, we are now getting ready for this little person, Mr. Baby, or Mr. B, as I have taken to calling her, and I guess I have decided to chronicle it all right here. Enjoy!