Crazybananas

She’s wanted to hold him since the second she saw him, but I wasn’t ready. As Trent told her while she wildly spun in circles while he slept on the floor next to her, “You can do whatever you want when it’s our baby, but you need to be careful around this one.”

He’s their firstborn. Little, fragile, very new. I remember what that was like. Wanting to be a normal human being, but finding it totally impossible when that little face is right in front of you. Being overwhelmed and ecstatic and joyful and oh so very tired. And wanting the older kids to be a little more gentle, a tiny bit more careful.

But they are a bit more daring then we were. Maybe because they’ve had experience with the children of their friends, or maybe they are just calmer then I was (most likely), but they asked if she wanted to hold him. Her eyes lit up and she looked cautiously over at me. “If it’s okay with them, then it’s okay with me,” I told her.

They were right. She was ready. I am the one who wasn’t ready. My baby is holding a baby. Pretty soon she’ll be holding a baby every day. But can’t she still be my baby too? If she is the big kid, is she still my little girl? When did the baby in this picture, become the big girl in the picture above?

And then, just like that, I’m snapped out of it. Jesus, Megan, you’re missing this moment. And where the hell is your camera?!

Lately I’ve gotten a ton of grief from people regarding Trent and I’s inability to come up with a name for Taco John. The most famous question is, “So, what names are on your list?” And the truth is, we don’t have a list. We’ve never had a list. While most of my friends that are married with kids talked with their significant others before they wed about baby names, 401K plans, future living plans, etc., Trent and I never really had that conversation. I mean, for us, it all just kind of happened. It was pure dumb luck that I loved the name Lucy and his mother’s name was Lucinda. That was (and still is) the only name we both ever agreed on.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a list. My list is lovely, if I do say so myself. The names just roll off your tongue and I would be happy for my son to wear any of them. What girl do you know that hasn’t thought about what she would “someday” name her kids? Even if it isn’t serious, you know the thought has entered their minds at some point, regardless of whether it is fleeting.

That’s where things become a bit difficult. I’ve had certain ideas of what I’m going to name my kid since I was a kid myself, and here comes this yahoo to ruin all my plans. (The yahoo is Trent….you got that, right? Just checking.) And this extends way beyond naming the little rugrats. Things like religion, family, work, life, activities…these are issues that Trent and I are literally tackling as they arise. And sometimes it takes a while to figure out where we fall as a family. Maybe this is something everyone struggles with, but for us, I feel like the struggle is more obvious. The worst part for me is the realization that he has as much of a right as I do to make these decisions, and veto my own. It’s infuriating. As I am obviously always right. Apparently Trent didn’t get that memo.

Case in point, Trent hates horses. He thinks they are deadly, dangerous creatures and anyone riding one is a complete nutjob. I, on the other hand, was raised riding competitively from the age of eight. I was an equestrian show rider for years, and continued to ride recreationally throughout high school and college. In fact, one of my three part time jobs my junior/senior years at university was to ride horses weekly with a girl with Asperger Syndrome whose parents wanted her to have a riding companion. I think that horseback riding is great exercise, a wonderful way to teach kids about responsibility and discipline, and just plain fun. I owe much of who I am to that experience growing up.

So for years I’ve brought up that I’d love for Lucy to ride as she gets older. Maybe take lessons once a week or something. But Trent is all “Absolutely no way, Jose. Are you insane?” or the ever popular “Horses aren’t dangerous, huh? Tell that to Christopher Reeve!”

And I’ve let it go. The kid had never been on a horse in her life.

Had. Never.

Had.

Bwahahaha! I win this round, sucker!

I wonder if I should’ve saved my playing card for the baby naming round? Ah well, second children always have it worse.

For years I’ve been wanting to get some family photos shot of Trent, Lu and I, and for years I’ve put it off. Why? No idea. Probably a combo of money + time + convincing Trent to do it, but for whatever the reasons, we’ve always held off. So when my friend Nicole moved to KC a year ago, I knew I’d be asking for her services. You see, Nicole is a real photographer. In the very sense of the word. Not only is she super-talented and endlessly creative, she has been crafting her skill forever. You know that awesome picture of me as a modelesque 6-year-old that’s on my About Me page? Yeah, she took that.

So one ridiculously hot day in June we got together to shoot some family portraits. Except it was a Friday, Trent was grumpy after a long week of work, Lu was grumpy after a long week of school and it was (no lie) 107 degrees outside. And humid. Gotta love Kansas City.

The shoot was done in parts of the River Market area downtown, and then out at our favorite pizza joint by our house. And although it was so hot that Lu really wasn’t the sparkplug she usually is, I almost like these pictures better because of it. Nicole captured the serious Lu, which I just don’t think to photograph much. And I may be biased (obviously), but this kid, she is just gorgeous.

A few other favorites from the day:

I wish I could post all 50 photos so you all could oohh and ahhh like I’ve been doing, but instead I’ll just link to the Flickr set of the shoot here. Nicole is going through a business redesign right now, but you can find her old website here, and you know I’ll be linking to her new one once it’s completed. (It’s so good, y’all, you have no idea. Just wait.)

Thank you, Nicole, for capturing our family of three before everything changes. Thank you for making me look skinny. Thank you for dealing with my grumpy family. And of course, thank you for that lovely photo of 6-year-old me. It has nothing to do with this shoot, but is so awesome, you deserve heaps of praise.

Just so you all know, no one is getting presents this year. I’m gonna be a little busy.

Baby Project 2.0 is due on December 23, 2010. Here is a picture of it at 10 weeks old, looking remarkabley blob like, just as Lucy did at that stage.

(You can see Lulu at around the same age here. She’s more of a “I’m way cool and just hang out in the corner” kind of girl, while this one is all “BACKFLIPS!!! I AM ALL OVER THE PLACE WOOOO!” At least, sonogram-wise.)

Luckily for you, the morning sickness phase passed a few weeks ago, so you won’t see gems like this one this time around. This pregnancy is different from mine with Lucy in so many ways, it would be idiotic to list them all here. All I can say is we are thrilled and excited and Lucy has set aside her old tricycle for the new baby. She also gets on Trent daily to build out our new room in the basement so the baby can have the one that’s currently his office.

Really, kids are great for assisting in the household nagging duties. You should get yourself one. Or two.

OMIGOD….two.