Ruling Out Clementine

I've spent the morning doing what any other girl that wants a baby will do: search out baby names. Thanks to one of the blogger girls I read for directing me to this site. As much as it pains me, I've ruled out Clementine. I'm such a name snob that somehow, I just know that my kids names will be in the Top 10. Whereas, right now, I will barely consider a name in the Top 800 and more points if it hasn't been ranked in the Top 1000 since 1918. This must be a form of elitism. Since I'm smirking, I must be a little proud of it. I named the baby that wasn't born and I assumed the gender, but named a genderless name. It is a name I haven't heard before, so I don't anticipate hearing it and having it bring back memories. I don't know if that bodes well for our future children. We just need to expand the naming pool because our boy names are hurting (which is okay because I'm planning on three girls). If we were to have a boy RIGHT NOW, C would insist on naming him the name that TWO of our close friends have. No. It's also in the Top 20. No. I heard a lot of stories on Friday of how the mother usually signs the birth certificate, so they just put down the name they preferred anyway. How about them apples, C?

This weekend I made another dress. This one is pretty. A bright blue batik print on white fabric with gold dots. It's a little big (and the last one is a little snug, so the next one should be just right), but the pattern is awesome. It's just for one dress, but it would be so easy to make a beautiful apron or top out of it. This dress looked so nice that sister B is thinking about having me make her a dress for an upcoming wedding! All I did this weekend was make this dress, so I will definitely post pictures when I get home.

Reason 42 To Hate Being a Girl: Hurt Feelings.
Really, I take life as it comes, I do, but BY GOD, there is only so much that I can take before the same hormone that makes me be a girl also makes me cry (or, you know, get angry). What triggered it this time, you ask? When the girl that had this job before me (and that's fine) prances in at 3:30pm on Friday (we close at 4:30 and that's fine) and she's visibly pregnant (even that's fine) and proceeds to talk to everyone (that's fine) and they talk about babies and how she's going to be such a good mother and what else she needs and they want pictures, etc (and that's starting to get to me). Then the bright red cherry appears in all of its glory. You can't miss it as it takes on the form of a flaming arrow in an arc towards my heart. Her due date is one DAY before mine was. And I'm not crying; I'm just pissed off at the response (insensitivity) of my coworkers. Thanks for the thought.