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Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Name Game

My husband and I are playing an epic game of Name the Baby.  Here's how it goes:  I suggest a name, he shoots it down by suggesting a rhyming or otherwise ridiculous middle name to go along with it.  Or just a negative association.

Ready?  Go.

Me:  Theodore.
Joe:  Teddy Rup-skin. [editorial note: he means Teddy Ruxpin]
Me:  Arthur.
Joe:  Arthur Barthur [Last name].
Me:  And Andrew is out for sure?
Joe:  I don't really like Andy.
Me:  Well, what about Drew?
Joe:  It's kind of...douchebaggery.

Me:  Samuel?
Joe:  Mmmm, maybe.
Me:  Richard?
Joe:  Richard is Dick.

Right now I really like Matias (or Mattias, or Matthias, as long as you still pronounce it with a "Tee", not a "Thigh", in the middle).  Matias Charles.  That's my pick right now, as of this very moment.  Meets all the major requirements, as far as I'm concerned.  Family names?  Check.  Fairly traditional?  Check.  Mostly pronounceable?  Check.  Gives me a good feeling?  Check.

But Joe says that he can't tell what the spirit-of-the-baby is calling himself yet.  This is an inside joke.  For those of you who aren't from California or have never overheard a conversation between new-parent hippies, the spirit-of-the-baby is an unintentionally hilarious construct that tries to suss out a newborn's....I don't know....spirit?  Like, in early infancy, or even before the baby is born.  In any case, it's when they're still at the cherished, sleeping paperweight stage.  Without having too much derision for the idea, I can say with some amount of confidence that babies are notoriously difficult to get to know deeply until they're at least a few months old.  Before then, they don't do much except eat, sleep, poop, pee, and require things.  From my fuzzy recollection, there is one defining characteristic of a newborn: they often get pissed off and cry a lot, just because it is developmentally what they are supposed to do and for no other reason.  All of them do, not just some babies.

Naming a child, then (at least for us), is a blind act of faith, as is bringing a child into the world at all.  Who could have known that James is undeniably a James, even though my first reaction to that name when Joe suggested it was, "Uh, no!  That was the name of a strange neighbor kid who stuck two green M&Ms up his nose!"  Or that Will would be perfectly named because of his absurdly strong will?  Little boys grow into their names as gradually and irrevocably as they grow out of a squished, impossibly small, and frail infancy.

In other news, we have our anatomy scan tonight.  (They took a peek last time, and that's when we saw peen).  Hopefully all is well with this little one.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I love Matthias. I have a soft spot for Timoteo. Good luck with the name-game! It's a tough one.

Unknown said...

I like Matthias. I also have a soft spot for Timoteo.

Good luck with the name-game! It's a tough one.