Co-Parenting

Lately I’ve gotten a ton of grief from people regarding Trent and I’s inability to come up with a name for Taco John. The most famous question is, “So, what names are on your list?” And the truth is, we don’t have a list. We’ve never had a list. While most of my friends that are married with kids talked with their significant others before they wed about baby names, 401K plans, future living plans, etc., Trent and I never really had that conversation. I mean, for us, it all just kind of happened. It was pure dumb luck that I loved the name Lucy and his mother’s name was Lucinda. That was (and still is) the only name we both ever agreed on.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a list. My list is lovely, if I do say so myself. The names just roll off your tongue and I would be happy for my son to wear any of them. What girl do you know that hasn’t thought about what she would “someday” name her kids? Even if it isn’t serious, you know the thought has entered their minds at some point, regardless of whether it is fleeting.

That’s where things become a bit difficult. I’ve had certain ideas of what I’m going to name my kid since I was a kid myself, and here comes this yahoo to ruin all my plans. (The yahoo is Trent….you got that, right? Just checking.) And this extends way beyond naming the little rugrats. Things like religion, family, work, life, activities…these are issues that Trent and I are literally tackling as they arise. And sometimes it takes a while to figure out where we fall as a family. Maybe this is something everyone struggles with, but for us, I feel like the struggle is more obvious. The worst part for me is the realization that he has as much of a right as I do to make these decisions, and veto my own. It’s infuriating. As I am obviously always right. Apparently Trent didn’t get that memo.

Case in point, Trent hates horses. He thinks they are deadly, dangerous creatures and anyone riding one is a complete nutjob. I, on the other hand, was raised riding competitively from the age of eight. I was an equestrian show rider for years, and continued to ride recreationally throughout high school and college. In fact, one of my three part time jobs my junior/senior years at university was to ride horses weekly with a girl with Asperger Syndrome whose parents wanted her to have a riding companion. I think that horseback riding is great exercise, a wonderful way to teach kids about responsibility and discipline, and just plain fun. I owe much of who I am to that experience growing up.

So for years I’ve brought up that I’d love for Lucy to ride as she gets older. Maybe take lessons once a week or something. But Trent is all “Absolutely no way, Jose. Are you insane?” or the ever popular “Horses aren’t dangerous, huh? Tell that to Christopher Reeve!”

And I’ve let it go. The kid had never been on a horse in her life.

Had. Never.

Had.