No more arguments... about this.

We have settled on a name for Baby Boy Schimelpfenig #2. Finally. It seemed so easy the first time around. When the name Ruary came up, we were sure that was the name for our child. But, nothing can be so simple when done a second time, because we need to match the success of the first endeavor (even if that first endeavor is being a ball of toddler angst at the moment). The name battle has waged ever since we found out it was a boy back on JANUARY 31st. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. But we are in agreement. He shall be named Milo Trophy Schimelpfenig.

Milo is a good name. I can imagine a little guy with that name, just as much as I can imagine a grown man with the same name. It's a name that doesn't take itself too seriously, but it's not silly, either. And time will tell if it gets trendy, but at least it is not one of the dreaded "-den" names. Some of you know what I'm talking about.

The middle name, Trophy, is that of my paternal grandfather. He is named Trophy Wilson Hughes, after the WWI Trophy Train that toured after the war, displaying implements used in the war (and apparently to encourage people to purchase war bonds, I think... I need to do more research now that one of my children will carry the name). Bottom line... no one else amongst the cousins will be passing it along, so we said we would do it. It is a beautiful, unique name that carries some history, as does my grandpa. I hope Milo will be honored to have inherited it.

A side note... it's so nice to be able to refer to Cletus the Fetus as something other than "Baby". Ruary has conceded that the baby will be named Milo, but he is also sticking to his "Baby (insert raspberry/fart noise)" that he invented a while back. So, I'm afraid Milo will be nicknamed Poot. Poor kid.