Well, I think we've picked a name - at least a first name. I always assumed we'd pick something fairly traditional, but with an edge to it - like maybe something just old-fashioned enough so as to be a bit out of the mainstream. Barring that, I assumed we'd pick a pretty common first name and go with a more unusual middle name.
Instead, we've picked a pretty unusual first name. Like, it's a name that exists (ie, we didn't make it up), but I've never known anyone with it. It's not a crazy-sounding name in and of itself (ie, it's no Balthazar, which we love but couldn't bring ourselves to use), but it is unusual enough that people will likely say, "What? How do you spell that? Is someone in your family named that?" the first time they hear it. I think some (perhaps many) of our friends and family will not like it and will talk about us behind our backs. Hey, is paranoia a sign of impending labor?
Anyway, it is far from finalized. In other news, my husband was poisoned on Thursday by our favorite local Thai-food place. Normally, I would have eaten the takeout, too, but I had prenatal yoga that night and thus wisely decided to skip the spicy meal right before class (or right after class and before bedtime). I was spared, but he spent all of Friday puking - and then some. I almost offered him Z0fran, but I figured it was good for him to get the offending bacteria out. I can't tell you how glad I was not to be the person vomiting.
I spent much of the weekend putting together the baby's room and doing other errands. The nursery is coming along. We had the handyman over on Friday to do a long list of easy things that we could probably do ourselves if we weren't stupid. The last major item we need is a glider, which should be arriving this week or next. Last week, I went to pick up a breast pump, an errand which seemed an awful lot like tempting fate since it was five weeks before our baby's ostensible debut. But I did it anyway! So crazy!