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Anderson's story begins much like Carter's. When I found out I was pregnant, I told myself not to hope for anything but a beautiful and healthy baby, but by the time May rolled around and I had my ultrasound I was hoping so much for a girl that I had confused my hoping for the "feeling." I still left room for error in my mind though and I wasn't completely surprised when the ultrasound technician typed "It's a boy" on the screen with an arrow. On the ride home from the hospital, Marc and I looked at each other and decided his name would be Nathaniel--after a little research, we decided on that spelling, too. So, he was Nathaniel, in my mind at least; Marc likes to wait until we've seen the baby first before we settle completely on a name. But in May that changed. I was watching Oprah the day she interviewed a certain CNN reporter. After hearing a bit of the interview and growing a certain respect for this reporter , I looked at Marc who was studying in the chair and said, "How do you like the name Anderson?" He liked it okay. Minutes later Oprah began asking Anderson Cooper about his childhood, and it was then that the name Anderson made our "list." When I heard them discuss Anderson's older brother, Carter I told Marc it was a sign--not that I usually believe in signs, but this was unignorable! We spent the summer mulling over our list of two names. At one point Marc, being completely serious, though I think he realized immediately his misuse of words, said we needed to narrow down our options. How much more narrow can you get? Well, labor came and our little boy was born, but the problem was he looked like he could fit Nathaniel or Anderson and I was simply exhausted after the birth so I told Marc that he could name him. It wasn't until we were in the recovery room that Marc told me he thought he was an Anderson. I agreed, but felt uneasy about it until we came home; Anderson seemed like such a large name for such a small person. But now I think it's absolutely perfect!
When I found out I was pregnant with Carter, I was sure he was a girl which was fabulous because the only name Marc and I had agreed on to that point was a girl's name. On the day of the ultrasound we were so excited to have the doctor confirm what I already felt so strongly--we were having a girl. The doctor didn't say that though. The ultrasound results were quite conclusive--our baby was a definitely a boy and I had not an ounce of Mother's Intuition. So, I spent the next few days playing with two ideas--we were either in fact having a boy, or the baby's legs were bent in just the right position so that the boy part was actually his leg tucked underneath itself so the doctor thought we were having a boy, but we were really having a girl. The latter idea was just silly now that I look back and once Marc convinced me that it was a boy, the name struggle began. We would throw names around all the time. I even had my students at AF Junior High write their favorite boy name down and I sorted through them for ideas. Pretty soon we had a list of five names: Maxwell, Parker, Porter, Carter and Nathan. I'm pretty sure that was the order of favorite to least, too. Once we came up with the list, new names weren't discussed very often. Marc really like Maxwell and Porter--I wasn't a huge fan by the time May rolled around. Parker and Carter were my favs--my great friend Whitni's last name was Parker, so that would honor her, and Carter, well that was because I was a Trading Spaces fanatic that year and this super handsome carpenter on the show's name was Carter. Marc insisted we weren't naming our son after one of my TV crushes. We still hadn't come up with a final decision before Carter was born, so on our way to the hospital we decided it was between Maxwell, Parker, or Carter (Marc must have been pretty sure the first two would beat out the third!!) Well, once I gave birth, we were just thrilled to be holding our new baby. The doctor had to remind us that we hadn't named him yet. (It wasn't too long after the birth, but the doctor hadn't left the room yet.) We looked at his face and his dark hair and ran through the list of names. He wasn't a Maxwell. He wasn't a Parker. Carter fit him perfectly. So there, Marc! He got his name from a cute carpenter on TV!
One of my top 5 phobias is spiders. It doesn't matter the size; it could be a harmless, tiny spider in the shower and I'll make Marc get out of bed to kill it before I hop in! Well, last week we all had a scare with a black widow.
Marc took Carter out to play after dark--when Marc gets home from school some nights, it's only 5:00 but it's dark! Carter's favorite outdoor toy is his little blue car--is anyone surprised? He doesn't usually ask for help, he doesn't need it ever, but this night he asked Marc to help him get the car ready to roll. When Marc looked in the car, there was a black widow hanging in his massive web directly underneath the steering wheel, where Carter's legs would have been had he not asked for help. I feel very certain that he was being watched over and protected when we couldn't know to do it ourselves! Marc spent the next twenty minutes using different methods to try to kill this spider when he was hanging in such an awkward place to get at while I held the flashlight, but to no avail, we lost him. It was probably my fault not holding the light close enough. I just didn't even want to look; I was freaking out! The rest of the night Carter was heard saying "Pider hurt, pider hurt" over and over and over and over again. We're lucky he didn't wake up with nightmares!
