So we have T-Minus-9-Weeks until the official arrival of Blueberry McTeasdale.

That's the nickname we've given the boy on the way. Blueberry comes from reading a baby book at week seven that said the baby was about the size of the berry. My friend Jillian joked on the day of our 18-week ultrasound that if it was a girl we'd have to change it to Pinkberry. I was happy it would still be a foodstuff. And McTeasdale is what I still propose to my husband that he change his name to, when he gets annoyed that I did not legally take McGowan.

I actually think Blueberry McTeasdale is better than some real names we see, and I imagine it's going to be hard for me to let go of "Blueberry" when the little one finally arrives and we have to assign him a more formal moniker.

I try never to say anything negative about baby names, but I think it's safe, since this person is a celebrity and since it's already been published on a variety of "worst baby names" lists, to say that my least favorite name we've ever sewn is that of celebrity chef Jamie Oliver's youngest child Buddy Bear Maurice Oliver. That's right: Buddy Bear is his first name; Maurice is his middle name. Before you start feeling too badly for Buddy Bear, keep in mind that his sister's names are Poppy Honey Rosie, Daisy Boo Pamela, and Petal Blossom Rainbow. Maybe they let the cast of the Electric Company name their children.

None of these names pass my first rule of baby names, the Supreme Court Justice Test. The test is very simple: put "Chief Justice" before your baby's name and see how it sounds. "Chief Justice Buddy Bear Maurice Oliver" sounds like the punchline of a joke that includes a priest and a talking penguin, right? I mean, "Chief Justice Blueberry McTeasdale" sounds less ridiculous, yes?