However.

The one teeny tiny silver lining was that because we had the CVS done – and Sprog is, btw, free from chromosomal defects like Downs or Trisomy 18, so that’s a good thing too – we also got to learn what flavor we’re getting about 6 weeks earlier than normal.

Drumroll please! (For those of you who didn’t recognize the nursery rhyme.)

We’re having a son.  Sprog’s a boy.

Holy crap.  There’s a boy in there.

So, let the naming madness begin!  Thus far, Boris and Robin have both been axed as potential tags for our eventual offspring.  As have Napoleon, Sherman, and Hezekiah.  Along with approximately 560 other names of varying degrees of offensiveness to either myself or the Boy.

In fact, the way we’re burning through the baby name book, Sprog might very well be “baby boy sprog” on his birth certificate, if we don’t learn to compromise a little better…

And my project for the day is to start looking for clothing that doesn’t try to make a 3-month-old baby look like a construction worker.  I mean, really – is khaki absolutely necessary to preserve an infant’s feelings of masculinity?  I’m totally dressing the kid in bright colors until he’s old enough to complain.  Just sayin’.