Names have not surprisingly been a big topic of interest for me lately. Assigning a human being a name that will define them for the rest of their lives is a very daunting task. I envision a name that is classic, yet not too popular, of Scandinavian descent to honor our families common history. But along with that it has to be something that isn’t too confounding to most people. Of course, these requirements are not the same ones my husband has, but that is a story for later.
As we watch TV at night I watch as names scroll by in the credits, or listen for unique names (not uneek names, unique as in less common). Last night we were watching Desperate Housewives (busted) when I heard a new name, “Orson”. AB said, “there’s a name you don’t often hear” and started naming off the Orsons he knew of, Orson Welles, Orson Scott Card. Let’s compare how NM’s brain works… “Mork calling Orson, come in Orson”. Now I am just incredibly annoyed that a likely major character on Desperate Housewives is named Orson because I am, every Sunday night from now until they kill him off, going to be sitting in front of my TV saying, “Mork calling Orson, come in Orson”. AB is thrilled.
Needless to say, this baby will not be Orson.
I have my list of possible names on a sticky note on my computer monitor. Five girl’s names and seven boy’s names. I look down the list everyday and like each name. They border on the classic with a little edginess to them thanks mostly to their somewhat foreign nature.
When I was a kid I watched and read Roots. It remains one of my favorite books of all times. One thing that struck me as a kid was Kunta Kinte being spoken his name first. I remember the scene of his father holding him up in the moonlight speaking his name to him, for the first time. It was a profound moment to me and I decided then and there that my children would hear their names in full first, before family and friends. This is also for practical reasons as well as this romantic image I had in my head. No one is going to criticize a baby’s name once named, at least not to the parent’s face. However, all bets are off if a name is announced beforehand.
Case in point… my grandmother has the most hideous handwriting ever. She was a nurse who should have been a physician. When I was born she wrote immediately to her family in California announcing the birth of her first grandbaby, a little girl weighing in at 8 lbs 12 oz named Axel. Not a single one of my even most obnoxious great aunts asked “Axel?” Instead the gifts and cards came pouring in to baby girl Axel, much to my mother’s surprise. Once my mom corrected the name then there was plenty of, “whew!” going on in California.
So basically what I am driving towards here is that this little post it note on my computer monitor… will remain a secret. There is only one person who reads my blog (that I know of) who could conceivably get a glimpse. And that would take a little (albeit not much) access wrangling. AB likes to remind me that the options are still just that, options. It isn’t THE name. And given the fact that most on my list are not on AB’s list, he is right. Still my list is sacred to me.
But I am open to receiving suggestions!
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