Since a lot of our friends and family members already know, we figured we might as well go ahead and spill the beans: we’ve settled on a baby name! Actually, we’ve been settled on a baby name for quite some time, but we’ve been waiting to see whether or not another name would come along; I think we wanted to keep our options open.

And we did, for a long time. We’ve been looking and asking and researching, and no matter how many other names we find and love–Asher and Atticus were two top contenders–we keep coming back to the one we loved first. And so, it’s decided: our second baby boy will be Elias Lake Aquiline.

We found the name Elias much in the same way we found the name Finn–and before we were even pregnant a second time. We knew we were trying. We knew we hoped for another boy. So, we kept our eyes and ears out, listening for names that caught our interest. Then, one night we were watching a not-very-good TV show, and a character introduced himself as “Elias” (pronounced uh-lye-us) in a long southern drawl. Sona and I  looked at each other and smiled. We both loved it immediately.

A couple of days later, when I was texting with one of my BFFs about having found a name we liked, she reminded me that she had actually told me about that name a while ago, as it is one on her possible someday list, too. (Don’t worry, I’ve asked her permission a thousand times, and she’s completely okay with our poaching it.) Though I didn’t remember having heard it before, something about it must have stuck with me.

So, the name went on the list, literally. Here’s an iPhone note I’ve had on my phone for well over a year:

Looking at the list, it’s pretty obvious that, while we were still a little unsure about Elias, we absolutely knew we wanted a middle name that speaks to our love of the water.

We chose the name “Finn” because we loved how sweet it sounded. We chose his middle name, “Atlas,” because of what it means. In Greek mythology, Atlas is the god who holds the world on his shoulders; he’s known for his strength. As a baby being born into a same-sex, mixed race family, we knew it was going to be important for little Finn to be strong, too. Using Atlas as a middle name was also a nod to our love of travel–and to the ways that having Finn has helped Sona and I navigate what’s important in our own lives. He’s shown us the way.

For our second boy, we immediately knew that we wanted a middle name that connects to the water. We both love the ocean, and we have had our happiest memories as a family while at the sea. We also fell in love with the city of Chicago, in large part, because of Lake Michigan, which we’ve always joked is like our own little freshwater ocean. When we bought our home, one of my requirements was that we be within a short walk of the lake–and we are. We love that “Lake” not only reminds us of the water, but it will also always remind us of this part of our lives–of the city we love, of our first home, of raising our two little boys in Chicago, spending our summers by the lake.

A few posts ago, I’d alluded to the fact that, though we’d found a name we liked, we were apprehensive about using it because we didn’t want people to default to a nickname. As much as we love the timelessness and tenderness of Elias, we don’t really see our little guy as an “Eli.” So, we are going to do our best to discourage folks from resorting to any kind of nickname.

Finn is able to say Elias perfectly–and HOLY COW is it adorable when he does. We figure that if he can manage it on the first try, everyone else can, too.

So, it’s settled, then. We have two sons: Finn and Elias. We chose their first names because they struck an emotional chord–they just felt right. We worked hard to choose middle names that had value to us–and, hopefully, to them.

When they are older, we can’t wait to tell them the story of their names–and the story of how hard we worked to make our little family. These two little boys are our sun and moon and stars and ocean and everything else that is good in the world, and we can’t wait for them to meet each other.

See you soon, little Elias. We’re so ready for you.

That’s the first time Finn was ever in his crib. He was just a week old, and it didn’t last long. Somehow, though, through lots of trial and error, we had him sleeping through the night in his own crib by the time he was 7 weeks old. We write about that process, here.

Fast forward 2.9 years, and Finn still, happily, sleeps through the night in that trusty ol’ crib.

There are lots of changes coming down the road for us at the end of this summer, most of which coincide with the arrival of baby #2. Our world–and Finn’s world–will be rocked. Earlier this year, we decided to keep Finn in his existing preschool, rather than transfer to a nearby Montessori program, partly because we wanted to eliminate as many changes as possible.

Another change that we thought was going to be inevitable was that, because the kiddos are going to share a room and because we don’t want to buy another crib, it is time for Finn to move into a “big boy bed.”

This is just something we assumed would happen without really giving much thought about why it had to happen. Most of Finn’s  friends–the ones who are his age–have long transitioned into toddler beds, and we already felt behind. (We’re behind with a lot of things, actually, including potty training. But that’s another post.)

“Shouldn’t you already have him in a bed?” my mom asked frequently, even offering to buy one for us.

We felt the pressure and guilt, but while we casually perused toddler beds online, we kept telling ourselves that we’d wait until summer to actually make the change. I think we were stalling. We stalled because we didn’t want our baby to outgrow his crib. We stalled because our lives are already full of all sorts of challenges, and we didn’t want to add transitioning to a bed to the list. We stalled, primarily, because Finn has always been an amazing sleeper, and why were we trying to fix something that wasn’t broken?

Of course, there are moms who would say that we should trust him. Believe that he’s capable of handling the transition. Let his maturity lead the way.

Yeah, that all sounds great in theory, but we are most interested in believing that we will be able to remain at least minimally sane and well-rested when the new baby arrives. And that’s when we had what should have been an obvious epiphany: We are Finn’s parents. We decide when it is time to try something new. If we want him to stay in the crib–and if he’s perfectly happy in his crib–why not just keep him there?

Why hadn’t this thought occurred to us before? I blame external influence, but the second we realized “Oh, you know what? He can just stay in the crib!” the decision was made. And a lot of anxiety was eased.

Here’s the thing: despite being a 6′ tall toddler, Finn has never once tried to climb out of his crib. (Knocking on wood as I type.) He’s never complained about his crib. He clamors to get into it at bedtime each night. He sleeps like a dream. He wakes happy and plays in his crib until we come to get him.

He’s also CONTAINED. In the crib, he’s a caged animal. In a bed, all bets would be off. Despite the fact that he’s yet to jail-break the crib, we have absolutely no doubt that, were he in a bed that he could easily climb out of, Finn’s life mission would be to subvert every single bedtime routine that we’ve worked to hone over the past few years.

Here is the scenario we replayed in our minds a thousand times before deciding to keep him in the crib: We’re exhausted, operating on just a couple hours of sleep. It’s 2AM. After many attempts, we’ve finally lulled our colicky newborn back to sleep and have just closed our eyes, knowing the baby will wake us again in just a couple of hours. Sleep begins creeping in; we welcome it. Then, suddenly, we hear a door creak open, the pitter-patter of little footsteps in the hallway, and BOOM! Just like that, Finn appears at our doorway, asks for a glass of water or a cookie or one of his toy cars, and any illusion of sleep we once had is yanked away from us. We rue the day we ever transitioned to a toddler bed, and we hate all of our friends and family who advised us as such forever. We die, tired and alone.

Okay, that’s a little melodramatic, but you get the idea. And when I posted the question on MamaTribe, asking 28,000 Chicago moms whether they’d put their soon-to-be 3 year old in a bed when he’s perfectly happy with a crib, I got an immediate, resounding “HELL NO!”

So, no. We will not be transitioning Finn to a toddler bed until he manages to climb out of the crib, asks for a bed himself, or threatens to burn the house down. The baby will sleep in our room in a Rock n Play for the first several weeks, and then we can transition to the bassinet I impulse-purchased from an online garage sale.

Our hope is that, by not changing this one thing, we all deal with The Big Change (aka: baby #2) a little better. And this is also a reminder that, no matter how much advice you receive about how to parent, ultimately, you have to go with your gut. And your sanity.

On Saturday, I cried on the drive between soccer practice and swim class. Finn was being difficult, and it was not my best mom day. Yesterday, Finn was an absolute angel, and it was the best family day we’ve had in weeks. And so is life when mothering a toddler. Luckily, his good mood coincided with Mother’s Day.

Here’s the upside of being a two-mom family on Mother’s Day: there’s twice as much to celebrate. Here’s the downside: there’s no dad to make breakfast in bed, plan an elaborate “self-care” day, or give either of us a day off of mom-ing. So, on our first Mom’s Day a couple of years ago, we decided to have a low-key family day, complete with a lakeside picnic. Last year, we continued the tradition with a beach picnic.

This year, though, it was unseasonably cold and rainy. (Thanks, Chicago.) So, instead of doing an outdoor picnic, we opted instead for a lazy morning inside, followed by a walk in a nearby nature preserve.

Finn must have gotten the message that it was a special day, because he let us sleep in until 8:45! Then, we did something we hadn’t done in a long time: we all lounged together in bed for a couple of hours, being silly, cuddling, watching cartoons on the iPad, and enjoying family time. Things have been busy lately, and Sona has been working a lot of Saturdays (though, she’s done with that, thankfully!). And in the midst of it all, we haven’t had much down time as a family, and I’ve missed it sorely.

Clearly, Finn has missed it too, because even though he was a pill on Saturday, he was in the absolute best mood on Sunday, and I have to credit our having a lot of quality time together for that change. (Or maybe his teeth weren’t hurting. Or maybe he slept better. Or maybe the moon was in a different phase. Who knows with toddlers?!)

Anyway, we lounged in bed, took our time getting up, ordered French pastries for breakfast, and then made our way to a local nature preserve for some much-needed fresh air. Initially, we’d planned on heading 30-45 min. outside of the city to explore one of the many forest preserves just outside of Chicago, but since the weather wasn’t great, we opted for a smaller nature preserve in the city, which is just 15 minutes from our house.

The North Village Nature Center did not disappoint! This city never ceases to amaze me. One minute, we were smack dab in an urban center; a minute later, we were surrounded by trees, watching a small group of deer feed.

Finn wasn’t the only one who showed up for Mom’s Day; the nature preserve turned on, too. “Cue the deer,” someone must have said, as we encountered nearly a dozen–and very closely–in our 90 minute walk. We also saw bullfrogs, turtles, a family of geese, a ton of birds, and other little critters. Finn enjoyed the whole thing, never asked to be carried, ate an entire bag of edamame, harassed a couple of squirrels, and tiptoed around the mud like a champ.

After, we all came home and took too-long naps. It was glorious. And I wouldn’t have traded it for a fancy brunch or a spa day, even if tempted.

In true boy form, Finn was as enamored with the sticks, the muddy puddles, and the tree stumps as he was the animals.