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Browsing Tag: names

And Don’t You Forget It

It started two years ago, when Quinn asked that I put down her formal name, Quinlan, on her preschool information. We call her Quinn around the house–the Mighty, as you know–and, frankly, David and I had named her Quinlan Grace just so that she’d have something more, I don’t know, grown-up sounding on her birth certificate. I’d really wanted to name her Quinn Elizabeth, but when that didn’t fly (“God Save the Quinn!!”), our Quinlan/Quinn Grace was born. Lately, here and there she’d start correcting us when we referred to her by her nickname. “Call me Quinlan,” she’d say. Or she’d introduce herself to a new person as Quinlan, or give me a weird look in her music class when the whole group sang the little welcome ditty and, as they’ve been doing for years, said hello to her as Quinn. Welp. The era of just “Quinn” has officially passed, my friends. Quinn–sorry, Quinlan–walked up to me the other week, in all her four-year-old power, and…

They’ll Just Wear Name Tags to Their Job Interviews

Listen. I know our kids have, uh, rather unique names, okay? You don’t have to remind me, fellow mom I run into at the store, or you, the 19-year-old Wegmans cashier who tells me that she would NEVER name her kids names like mine, because what if they want to become doctors one day, and no one can pronounce the names on their resumes? It’s much better, says the young woman, to name your child a normal name, then totally spell it an unusual way to confuse everybody, like she did with her Lukas (with a K instead of a C, thankyouverymuch) because WHAT IF THEY WANT TO BECOME DOCTORS?? A lot of you know I first heard the name Saoirse when I was an undergrad. I was working as a resident advisor in an all-female dorm during my senior year (only because my dear–but rather protective–parents refused to let me move off campus, and being an RA was pretty much the only way I could remain on campus as an upperclassman and still hold my head relatively high. Well, as high as a 21-year-old living in…

From Battle Sites to Baby Names

My brother sent me a link from CNN.com today that had me thinking about our girls’ names (I realize that I think about their names often, but this time I mean think-thinking about them–you know, really thinking, not just calling out a name when I need someone to grab a baby wipe). Apparently there are tours being developed of the hot spots and murals that came out of the three decades of fighting during “the Troubles” in Northern Ireland. That’s right, folks, just like at Gettysburg, you can now trace the steps of a revolution…even if those battles didn’t work out quite so well for the ones revolting. If we can learn anything at all from witnessing this particular battle site (Cemetery Hill, say) or that riot (Bombay Street,1969), then by all means let’s keep that vigil. But I’m not here to talk about wars… …because as usual, I’m talking about my kids. More specifically, my babies’ names, which is why you’re reading this in the first place (right? Or did you google “Civil…