I'm sure Princess Tickybox will add luster to it.

I'm more envisioning the time when she tries to get it all out in one go, and ends up calling herself Lillizabeth.

Cash, mother claims that when I was wee, I would pull myself up and then carefully swing myself over to make good my escape.

Plei, Mom says I learned very early how to hook my wee monkey toes into the mesh of my playpen and escape. I fear there's cosmic retribution afoot.

I get this a lot from my sister.

I'm fighting a cold, so I was a less amused with Owen's accomplishment. That and he was so excited, he didn't go back to sleep until 5.

These stories, while amusing me (and my amusement in turn aggravates the mother in question), also serve the second purpose of reinforcing our decision to not have kids. Hanging out with a newborn will do that too.

Best. Birth. Control. Ever.

Although if you make the decision to have one, you'll do wonderfully!

Lillian Elizabeth

Beautiful name!

It's a lovely name, and in my family, it would be a family name and one of the more palatable ones, considering that family names include Ora Dora, Hattie Mae, Clara, Regulus, Lester and Immanuel Reuben. Plei's mother should be barred by law from naming anything.

I have a sore throat. Tell it to go away. It may just be a result of eating the world's saltiest food last night. There are always repercussions from eating little fishies very hot, and yet, if I were a really rich person, I'd have a chef to fry up tiny salted anchovies with peppers and serve them with beer by the pool, sodium overload be damned.

These stories, while amusing me (and my amusement in turn aggravates the mother in question), also serve the second purpose of reinforcing our decision to not have kids. Hanging out with a newborn will do that too.

I knew my babylust was big and doomy when I found myself hanging out with screaming spitting-up newborns and cleaning up after the toxic diaper explosions of my friends' toddlers without turning a hair; if that didn't turn me off of the prospect of childrearing, nothing would.

Ginger, Ora Dora and Regulus and most of the rest of them are pretty bad, but is there really anything wrong with Clara? t /tone-deaf to bad names

Sigh. I missed Suela's surprise party last night because I was just too worn out from visiting a pregnant friend with two small kids (and due to head back there in a bit this morning to sit with them while she goes to an MD appointment), but I still feel all bad about missing it. And bad that I was away from Sickly!Hec most of the day yesterday, and bad about the other friend with the fucked-up family situation whom I was supposed to visit with this weekend and didn't get to, and bad about the metastasizing pile of crap in the kitchen. If I just had one or two more of me, my life would just purr along so much more smoothly.

I'm fond of Clara, particularly since it was my grandmother's name, but I think it would be hard on a modern child.

Clara is beautiful- I tried to pitch it to my sister for her daughter born in November- as an alternative to "Sarah" which they were considering.

I failed to even get them to take that idea seriously for one second.

Lillian Elizabeth is beautiful. I also like Clara (I knew a little mischievous Clara once who was adorable).

Actually, after doing transcription for the attending notes in the nursery at my hospital for the past six months or so, I can attest to the fact that there are quite a few brand-new modern baby Claras about. By the time they hit 4 or 5 years, there'll be so many of them that the only problem with Clara will be that there'll be so many of them.

I knew my babylust was big and doomy

I had a baby fall asleep on me on Saturday. I was at my Mom's, and a friend of hers came over with her new(ish) baby -- he's 2 months, and is the size of a 4-month-old. I held him in the cradled-in-my-arms hold, which he objected to vigorously. So I held him up against my chest and shoulder, and he immediately snuggled his little baby face into the crook of my neck, snuffled, and fell asleep. Finally I sat down on the couch and then carefully reclined so that the baby was flopped on my chest, and all he did was open one eye, snuffle again, and turn his head to the other side. I love that boneless warm sleeping-baby weight.

Lillian is a gorgeous name.

See, I'm earwormed with the Beatles. "Rocky Raccoon," to be exact. ("Her name was McGill, and she called herself Lill, but everyone knew her as Nancy....")