Middle of the Night Giggles

Thomas woke up around two am last night with a bloody nose. I can generally do all the middle of the night "mom business" in the complete darkness (whatever it takes to prevent the others from waking). However, since I spilled the glass of ice water on my night stand as I clumsily climbed out of bed, I turned on a light which made it harder for Utah Dad to pretend he was still sleeping.

We got the bleeding stopped; cleaned up Thomas and got him back in bed. I got a towel to clean up the spilled water near my bed and climbed back into bed expecting to fall immediately back into blissful sleep. But I didn't. I tossed and turned and when I realized that Utah Dad wasn't snoring (which means he was also awake) we started to talk.

The first thing that I fell in love with about Utah Dad was the easy conversation and the way we can always find something interesting to talk about. Utah Dad is never short on opinions and always willing to express them (just ask the folks at the party last night). Other than the Friday night when we were purposefully giving each other the silent treatment, we talk a lot.

So, in the middle of the night, we lay in bed, exhausted yet unable to sleep. We talked about politics and religion and religion in politics and moral issues involving religion and politics. It was deep. Then we started talking about naming babies.

When we were first married, we were hanging out with some of Utah Dad's little nieces and we were making up ridiculous names for our future children. The little girls were adding some fabulously crazy names to the mix and we laughed so hard tears rolled down our faces. I won't mention any of these names so that I won't accidentally offend any of my readers and/or relatives.

Utah Dad and I have officially finished our career of naming babies. Our own children have very traditional names (different from the names I use to refer to them on the blog, by the way. I know I've been blogging too much when I mistakenly call them by their blog names). This is not to say that I only like traditional names. There are many less traditional names that I think are absolutely lovely.

But last night, in our silly state of complete exhaustion, we got the giggles as we thought of various, hilarious and odd names (mostly used by celebrities or my ancestors). Or strange combinations. I once knew a Harry Barber. Utah Dad knew a Harry Beaver. Warning: just be especially careful if you consider naming your child Harry.

We giggled like children.

And then Utah Dad started telling me about an episode of Law and Order that he recently watched and I fell right asleep.