I’ll Kill Him.

I’ve always wondered how crimes of passion happen.   How does someone who once loved someone else get to the point where they feel the need to take that person’s life?   And then I got pregnant and I understood.   Clearly, they at one time had to name a child together and then register said child for essential baby items.

And then they killed the other one.

As easy of a relationship as Chris and I have now, you would probably be shocked to know that it hasn’t always been sunshine and roses for us.   We’ve dealt with trust, jealousy, long distances, dishonesty, disinterest…   But none of these things in our 10-year relationship has been as tiresome or annoying as naming our child and registering.   I think I could handle Chris having an affair if he would just let me name our freaking kid Jackson!

Its my fault, too.   I shouldn’t have pressured him into picking a name.   I should have waited until he was ready.   But I was afraid that by then our child would be married with nameless children of his own.   But, still, I should have waited.   Because when you make someone do something when they aren’t ready, they make the process miserable.   Now, Chris just shoots down names.   Any of them.   All of them.   Doesn’t matter.   And the more I like them, the more he hates them.   And do you think he has suggested anything reasonable (and, no, Charlie Brown is not considered reasonable…)?   One name.   He’s given one name.   And it wasn’t a great name, let me tell you.   But he feels that this one name gets him off the hook every time I try to have a name conversation with him.   He just throws that one name out every single time, like he hasn’t suggested it 300 times already, and then he sits back, looking proud.

I’ll kill him.

And then there is Babies R Us.   Where marriages go to die.   He had no interest in the registry.   None whatsoever.   Baby things freaked him out.   I’d try to include him in the process, and he wanted nothing to do with it.   He genuinely didn’t care.   And then I mention that I might take my family with me to register while they are in town for Thanksgiving.   NOW HE HAS OPINIONS.   Lots of opinions.   And they all start with, “No…”

“No, I don’t like that color.”

“No, I don’t like that fabric.”

“No, I don’t like that stroller.”

And, again, the one choice he actually isn’t repulsed by I can’t stand.   He likes things really simple and plain.   And actually, I do, too.   But its BABY GEAR, not luggage!   I agree that it doesn’t have to be frilly and foo-foo, but it is for a baby!   Would a print be too much to ask for?   Plaid, poke-a-dot, toile, animals, fish – it doesn’t matter.   He hates it all.   I spend hours putting together an entire matching life for this kid and Chris takes one look at it and says no to it all.

I’ll kill him.

I’ll kill him and it will truly be a crime of passion because I’m passionate about the name Jackson and I’m passionate about poke-a-dots.