I am the semi-neurotic mother of three kids, ages 18, 8 and 5. My oldest is off to college and my youngest just started school. I’ve been the single mom, divorced mom, married mom, young mom, old mom, career mom, and attends school-at-night mom. I’ve worked in the IT world for almost two decades, but still shy from programming cell phones. I have no free time, but when I do…I write or read or plan our next vacation or holler at whomever to give me some PEACE AND QUIET.
What’s in a Name?
There’s one thing that us moms have control over (one measly thing); Naming our children.
It’s awesome how something that we think up, or highlight in a baby name book, or read on a bathroom stall, that will be on some one’s driver’s license and mailing address for their entire lives. However, those names that we spend months, if not years, carefully selecting, aren’t used.
I’ve always called my son ‘Jaime’ (pronounced ‘Jam-ey’). Once he arrived in middle school he discovered, to his horror, that many classmates also had this name; his female classmates. He began to introduce himself and sign his school papers with the more ’man-ly’ name of James. He would wince if I’d call him Jaime in front of his friends. Well, he would wince if I talked to him in front of his friends, period.
My older daughter only responds if I say her entire name, at eardrum-splitting levels, at least three times. ‘AAAANNNNNIKKAAAA HOOOOPPPPEEEEE………@#$@#$@#$@#$!!!!!!!!!!’.
My throat hurts.
When my youngest child, Eva, first started talking (I rue the day), she couldn’t say her sister’s name (Annika), so she said ‘Ka-Ka’. Yep, that got plenty of snickering from anyone who knew rudimentary Spanish.
I call that same child ‘Eva-Kneiva’. Only those over 30 know what the heck I’m talking about. At her pre-school I just get a lot of blank looks.
All of my children are called my favorite term of endearment: ‘Poopy’. Don’t ask me how that got started. It does have something to do with all children being in that state frequently during their first few years on earth. In addition, they are usually very proud of this state. Don’t worry, I won’t continue on that topic.
So, it doesn’t really matter what name I assign my children. Be it ’Hubert’ or ‘Bertha’ or ‘Harley’, all of them will be called something else later on…what’s in a name, anyway?
