by Matt Ledoux

The photo you’re looking at got me in trouble. I thought it would be funny: pregnant woman cooking while sitting on a stool. Funny, right?

No. It was not funny. Not for one of us at least. In fact, it kind of became a small issue. We sorted it out because we love each other. (And because I gave her a foot rub.) But just a warning to those of you who have pregnant wives: after 7 months even funny things become far less funny to them.*

*This photo was not staged. My wife is cooking chicken with artichokes. It was very tasty. and I appreciated it very much (see how sensitive I am?).

What bone-headed moves did you make with your super-pregnant wife?

You probably noticed the lack of new posts last week. You didn’t? Oh…okay.

That’s because my wife and I went off-grid (for a few days, quite literally). We were taking a last, big trip before the arrival of our first baby. Our OB/GYN suggested that my wife discontinue flying after 32 weeks, so we fit in a trip to the California desert. While not everyone follows the doctor’s “no-fly rule”—we’re looking at you Sarah Palin—we chose to stick to it.

As with anything related to babies, the babymoon has already been co-opted by the Baby Industrial Complex. Sites are devoted to pre-packaging trips for the dad- and mom-to-be—but let’s be honest, it’s mostly for the mom. Spa treatments, nice dinners, that kind of thing.

For part of our trip, we took the slightly less conventional route: renting an entirely off-grid house 20 miles north of Joshua Tree. The house was “off-grid” in the sense that it was powered only by solar energy, and you couldn’t get cellphone reception unless you drove into town (a 30 minute trip). It took 15 minutes of driving on a dirt road to even reach the place. And there were very few neighbors: to the point that one car might go by every eight hours or so.

As you can see by the pictures, we were by no means “roughing it.” It was a beautiful house. Unfortunately, because of a minor glitch the first night, the system didn’t collect enough power. As we were entirely without energy, there was also no radiant floor heat. While the darkness and stars made it feel romantic, after a while, all we could feel was cold.

I have to hand it to my wife who dealt with the off-grid scene very graciously, not complaining a bit when she had to wear pants and a sweater to bed with two comforters over us. And how did she fare the next day? She did over five miles of hiking, the most challenging being a 3+ mile hard scrabble hike to the 49 Palms.

While we remained unconnected to the grid, my wife and I connected to each other. Not only that, I gained even more respect for her and her fortitude. No doubt I’ll feel that exponentially when I see her give birth.

Despite the dippy name, I recommend that every couple take a ‘babymoon.’ Even if it’s just for a weekend and you have to stay local. It’s all about remembering why you’re together in the first place. And I hear that comes in handy when you’re running on two hours of sleep and your wits are at an end.

Did you try to fit a vacation in before baby? How would you re-name the ‘babymoon’?

As we count down to D(elivery)-Day, many folks have been asking me if we have names picked out yet (since we chose not to find out the gender, we had double the name-finding to do).

I reply “Yeah, we’ve got names.” And they expectantly ask, “Well?” wanting to be let in on the decision.

But I won’t budge. I feel as though it would jinx those names if I let them circulate. I haven’t even told my best friend yet. Nor have I told my family members as they have been known to be quite forthright in their opinions. Who really wants to hear, “You’re serious about that name? What’s the significance? Aren’t their better options?” It tends to make one feel unsure about the decision.

Besides, we’re creating a brand here. We hope this kid will live to be at least 80. That’s alot of years living with this name. Companies pay big money to develop product names and keep them hidden from the public until the launch date.

I’ve been keeping a tight, WWII-style rein on information dispersion. My wife, however, hasn’t been quite so disciplined. When her sister was over the other day, she asked if we had a boy name picked out and my wife answered without hesitation: “S____.” Her sister said, “I just got goosebumps.”

Guess I neglected to let my wife in on my whole “keeping it a secret” plan.

“So, what is it?”

“What’s what?”

“What’s the sex of your kid.”

“Kid? Sex? That’s disgusting.”

“No, are you going to find out what your kid is?”

–

How did you go about the whole “finding out the gender” thing?

Does it really make a difference whether it’s a dude or a chick? Is it only so you’ll know what color to paint the nursery?

My wife led the charge on not wanting to find out (and this was amusing coming from the girl who got busted for sneaking peeks at her Christmas presents). She explained, “It’s going to be one of the very few, true surprises in life.” I wasn’t so convinced at first; not only because I thought it might be fun to know, but also because we could narrow our search for baby names by half.

I asked, “On the day of the birth, isn’t the mind-bogglingness of a baby going to overshadow any surprise we might get from finally knowing its gender?” To which she gave me “the look.” But after some time and several people asking, I found myself beginning to like not knowing. That little extra air of mystery has somehow become gratifying. Besides, whatever it turns out to be, I won’t have a clue how to take care of it.

During the anatomy scan at 5months, we took special care to inform the technician and doctor that we didn’t want to know the gender. And when the monitor showed images of the baby’s crotch area, I looked away, not wanting to get any clues. It appears I’m now all-aboard the not-knowing train.

How did you go about it? Were you glad you did or didn’t find out beforehand?

Some of you have probably traveled as much if not more than you did before you had kids. Others, not so much.

We all still very much want to “get away.” But now more than ever, this means bringing the family along. One of my dreams is to travel across the country for a year with the kids and a trailer in tow. Yes, a trailer. Just as architects are giving new life (and better looks) to pre-fabricated homes, a couple of Austrian’s have come up with a kick-ass caravan.

[Learn/see more at www.mehrzeller.com]

I hope that by the time our kids are old enough to appreciate it, these trailers will be gracing our interstate system. Granted, the thought of travel is always more enticing than the realities of it–pumping out a family of four’s worth of sewage at a Jellystone Park doesn’t sound so romantic. As Paul Theroux, the great travel writer said, “”Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.”

Where are you guys headed in the near or somewhat distant future?

Being an expecting dad has freaked me out, for sure. But really, the biggest test for me thus far has been “The Registry.”

Even though I don’t have to be in attendance for the baby shower (thank god), the registry has me totally losing my sh*t.

It’s mostly because I’m just now realizing the amount of stuff we will be accumulating (plus the fact that we don’t have any extra space to speak of here in NYC). But I’m sure on a deeper level, it’s more because this baby is going to change our lives fully/irrevocably/forever.

As far as practicality goes, I understand the need for registries. The hens are going to buy you stuff either way. And if you don’t register, your weird Aunt is going to buy you something so horrible and embarrassing that you’ll have to dispose of it in a dumpster the next town over.

Really, how much stuff does this little person need (beyond a breast and protection from the elements/wolves)? Didn’t it feel like we got by with FAR less when were kids way back when? I don’t recall having half the items I’m seeing on the Target or Giggle registries.

Some men are totally hands-off, and I’m sure that’s the right move to preserve one’s sanity. But I can’t seem to stay out of it. For some reason, this item really got my ire up and I had to put my foot down.

A baby bottle/nipple drying rack? For crying out loud, we already HAVE a dish rack! Our current one may not be “clever” or “innovative”, but it’s a dish rack nonetheless.

How about you? Did you distance yourself from this process, become enraged by it, or go all zen-like?

One of the first responsibilities for expecting parents is naming the baby. It’s easy to see why this is cause for a ton of contention: the poor bugger’s going to be strapped to it for the rest of their life. Unless, of course, they change it themselves–like a dude I knew in high school who magically transformed from “Chris” to “Qris”, or the chap I worked with who went from “Steven” to “Seven” (yes, the number).

Finding the right name’s like strolling through a minefield. There are family names your mom wants you to use. Cute nicknames that are funny–for an hour. We’ve all spent some quality time with baby-naming websites or the classic paperback book “55,000+ Baby Names” by Bruce Lansky (love that the author is named “Bruce”) with over 700 pages of not-so-great ideas. To illustrate, just now I just opened a page at random and found “Turquoise.” Most kids can spell their name by, what, five years of age? That poor girl Turquoise may NEVER get it right.

Sure I want to pick a good name. But at 4.5 months from d-day, it doesn’t seem like the highest priority. Does it even need to be named at birth? Is it required for a birth certificate? What if the name doesn’t “fit” and you want to change it?

We all have to be rigorous about our choice of a name. It has to pass so many tests and go through multiple filters. Some of which include:

• Is it “Playground Proof”: how can other kids twist/warp the name to be embarrassing? Does it rhyme with ANY words that have negative connotations?
• Does it fail the “So Cute It Makes Me Sick” test?
• How many other kids are rocking the same name?
• Will you wince every time you say it?
• Will the child resent you for the choice in the future? (If you name him “Todd” he will)
• Did someone have that name in your past that you didn’t like? (I’m looking at you Charlie Cronin)
• Does it have over five alternate spellings? (My wife thought it was “Kateland”…but that’s a country, isn’t it?)
• and so on…

With all that pain and anguish, it’s difficult to understand why most people insist on coming up with a middle name as well. It’s pretty clear that most middle names are the ones that won the Silver Medal in the Naming Olympics.

How’d you go about it? Did you finally land on the name when the baby came or weeks after? Did you opt in or out of a middle name? Did you have to succomb to family pressure regarding the name?

Or did you just chuck it all and go with “Carl”?