Obsession:Baby Names

What's in a name?

Some people haven't named their kids days after they enter the world. Some people (like me) have them named 4 months into the pregnancy. Some people like trendy names. Some people (like me) want there to be no other child on Planet Earth with the same name.

This is ridiculous, I realize.

I still go back and see how popular the Boys' names have become since they were born.

Jack=VERY much so.
Finn=getting there.
Rowan=getting there.
Bec=nowhere close.
Maeve=not sure which way it'll go.

So, really, does a name matter that much? Is it worth the attention I give it?

Or do people truly grow into their names?

Here's what the Boys' names mean or what they mean to us as family names:

Jack Richard was named for my uncle Jack who died of Lou Gherig's disease. Uncle Jack was one of the strongest, kindest people I've ever known. I believe my Jack will live up to that name. Richard was my dad's middle name. My dad was crazy funny, smart and damn stubborn. Jack Richard is all of these.

Finnegan (Finn) James Finnegan means "fair" and doesn't appear to relate to our Finn. To me, though, Finnegan sounds like the name of an Irish rogue and THIS is spot on with Finn. He does love the ladies. James is Andy's dad's name and my maternal grandfather's middle name. Good, solid man's name.

Rowan Andrew Rowan means "little red one". There is also a Rowan Tree which is a very beautiful and hardy tree. "Little red one" is not fitting for Rowan but the description of the Rowan Tree could very well describe him. I loved this name from an Anne Rice novel, The Witching Hour, where the main character's name was Rowan Mayfair. Andrew, of course, is for the baby daddy.

Beccan (Bec) Joseph Beccan means "little one" and in fact he was the smallest when he was born. He is also the "little one" of 4 brothers and is determined to remain the baby, forcing us to still let him sleep with us. Joseph is Andy's first name.

So what does the name Maeve Lotus hold for poor baby Maeve, baby sister of Jack, Finn, Rowan and Bec?

Maeve Lotus Maeve means "she who intoxicates" and is the name of a legendary Irish warrior queen. Lotis was my maternal grandmother's name. Andy says Lotis has "Otis" in it like "Otis the town drunk" from Andy Griffith and that combined with "she who intoxicates" might not bode well for her college days (Maeve Otis could well have been my name). So we decided to change Lotis to Lotus which means "flower". For someone like me, who is such a tomboy, I wanted a feminine name if we ever had a girl.

I think, no I know, that I have in the past felt like I "did better" (I don't know if that's how to put it) than people who name their kids very popular or common names. I don't know why I've felt like that. It's ridiculous because popular names are popular for a reason, you know. They are beautiful or strong.

Maybe because my name is so...I don't want to say "Blah" but a combo of two very common names. I guess I wanted my kids not to have that? I don't know but this is my general apology for ever feeling that way.

What's in a name?

A name is whatever you make of it, I guess.

A neurobiologist named Starla?

A hooker named Eunice?

Post Thanksgiving

Despite all of the pre-Thanksgiving hype.
Despite our sick, aging pets.
Despite the anger I had toward my grandmother.
Despite the fact our ten-year old broke his friggin' back.

I deem this the best Thanksgiving ever.

We ate like Kings (and me, the Queen).
We walked our old dogs many, many times, like we should have all along.
My grandmother acted like it was our strep-ridden children that kept us home, not the fact that we hold mere dogs in almost as high regard as we do our relatives.
And Jack is neither dead nor paralyzed.

We watched The Girl With the Dragon Tatoo and the same Girl Who Played with Fire.
We watched too much football (Auburn/Alabama, holy hell, what a game! And Coach Dooley, Lane Kiffin was just a speedbump.)
Read two chapters in The Invention of Hugo Cabret to the boys and many other books to Bec.
I am almost done with The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
I worked ALOT on my project for class.
We decorated the tree.
We registered for "girl stuff" and for anyone who checks out our Target registry, prepare for a guffaw.
And we slept.

I learned today that since we registered for baby stuff in 1999, they now make test strips that test for alcohol in breastmilk.

Wow.

How novel.

I mean, who drinks and nurses?

How crass.

it was the day before Thanksgiving....

Since the hell broke loose with my grandmother yesterday, I've realized 2 things.

1. You really can never make everyone happy.

And that being said,

2. I'm sick of trying.

The holidays for kids with divorced parents are probably the hardest time of the year outside of birthdays maybe. The year my dad left, he left on Halloween. I knew he had gone but my mother hadn't yet told us. I intentionally asked to use one of his t-shirts for a costume knowing there were none left in the house. Later that night, at the Halloween festivities at the National Guard Armory, I was jumping in the bounce house when I saw my dad walk up.

I don't remember tons of things from my childhood, but I do remember that image, my daddy sauntering up at the back entrance to the Armory on Halloween Night. Sadly I can remember the incredibly awkward Thanksgiving that followed.

My parents divorced shortly after that (I think) and my mother moved us to Germantown, figuratively so far away from the small town where I had been raised for a decade. In our case, there was always fighting between my parents or ugly comments not meant to be discussed in front of children.

And the Holidays were the pinnacle of stress and unhappiness for me. Pulled between 2 families who hated each other. Always feeling out of place and out of sorts.

As a parent with children of my own, I have tried to balance our Holidays between our house, my in-laws, my mother, and my grandmother's (since my dad passed away). I always feel the pressure to make sure we do exactly what we are supposed to, be where we're supposed to and try like hell to make sure no one (mom's side/dad's side) feels like they've been shafted in any way, shape or form.

I don't believe that I have truly enjoyed a Holiday season since I was probably 9 and I've always wondered why. I doubt I've ever given my own kids the kind of jolly Christmas experience that they deserve. I dread it. Every year.

But maybe this will be the year I change.

Forget about making myself miserable for the sake of someone else's happiness (or selfishness).

I want this Holiday season to be about making MY family happy, my bah humbug self included.

And I aim to do just that. I've cleared the place for the tree while "Buddy" our Elf on the Shelf circles the outskirts of the living room in anticipation.

I'm glad for today for:
(1) recognizing where my Holiday Blues stem from
(2) believing I have the "balls" to change my Holiday karma and
(3) "Buddy" the Elf, because Will Ferrell IS the new Chevy Chase.

Tuesday

Our family, plus Frank, our sick and dying dog, were to make the trip to West Tennessee for Thanksgiving with my family.

Traveling with all of the kids, plus arranging all of the pet stuff, always makes for a stressful situation. Much more so this time with Frank being so sick. He's not so sick that I think it's "time", so I thought I had made arrangements for him to stay at my grandmother's one night with us. Apparently not.

She calls, tells me that it's going to be super cold and her garage door doesn't close.

Well I'd never had any intention of letting Frank stay in the garage at her house. It truly astounds me that people don't get the love some of us have for our animals.

We have loved and cared for Frank for almost 11 years. I have spent much more time with him than I have my family in the last 11 years, and for this I am truly grateful. I do love my family, but Frank has loved me without condition for over a decade.

The same can not be said of my family.

Back to the story.

So when I say that he can just stay in the bathroom. He won't make a mess. She says that won't work. And I say, "Then we're not coming."

Period.

And she says, "Well, we still have a few days."

Nice. Sit there and hope my dog dies between now and Thursday morning so your mac and cheese don't go to waste.

You can bet your sweet patootie I wouldn't come now if you paid me.

So, how does this relate to my quest to enjoy my life?

Relief that I won't have to make a dying dog spend 10 hours in the car, in a cold garage to appease someone who has never known the love an animal.

Why I'm glad I've had today

Andy and I had a night off from the boys. We watched the UT game but I found two things odd. (1) No interruptions & (2) UT won. Both greatly appreciated.

Today we picked the kids up, after almost flooding the in-laws house with simultaneous poop flushings from Rowan and Bec. As we were leaving their house, Bec escaped from his car seat twice. Car seat behavior is one reason I want to commit myself. 

We stopped by the store to buy chicken for Frank. Andy went in. The boys and I waited in the van. In the distance we could hear sirens gettings closer. I joked with RoRo that the cops were coming for him.

He didn't buy it.

But Bec did.

I told him they were coming for him because he wouldn't stay in his car seat. Quivering lips and overflowing tears, the whole nine yards. Just before the true wailing could begin, a firetruck passed and I told him I was kidding. But come on. Making your kids cry because he thinks he's going to jail?

Reason numero uno why I'm glad I woke up today.

I'm trying so hard to not focus so much on the future. To concentrate much more on the here and the now. The problem I'm having right now, today, in being happy, is that I can't quit thinking about Frank and that he'll be gone soon. Another void left in our once Puppy Four Pack.

I can say that I wished I didn't care so much but that would be a lie.

Reason two that I'm glad I have today is that today we still have Frankie. We may not tomorrow. But we do for one more day.

The First Day cont'd

So how do I avoid getting frustrated with a three year old who never, ever does what I ask? And I'm not joking. He is really the kid who does the EXACT OPPOSITE of what I ask him to do.

He's gotten into the ice cream and the Klondike bars.
He won't leave the pets alone.

We have one dog, Frank, who has cancer and is dying and I am trying as best I can to care for him. Sweet Frank.  

But I'm fried. I want to cry all the time, I get so frustrated with Bec. I am angry with him almost all day long. Rarely, do I have a true break.

He doesn't nap.
He doesn't sleep in his own bed.
He won't let me talk to other people.
He hits me.
He yells at me.
I can't exercise.
I can't go out in public because he acts so awful that it's just not worth it.

So, how do I turn it around right now, in this moment?

I wish I had it in me to just let it slide but somehow I think I feel like he's getting the best of me. That he's "beat me" in some way, and I don't like to lose, ever.

I've sent him to his room because he won't leave Frank alone and won't stay out of the damn ice cream. But then he just called out, "Hey, Mom, I'm reading books" (except he can't say "k's" and it "booots" instead).

Toad on the Road and Duck in the Truck.

UPDATE:

After pulling the van into the garage (not too "off" myself), I closed the garage door. Put Bec in his car seat. Clicked him in.

As I'm walking away, he says, "Tanks, Mom. I like sweeping in here."

And there he soundly sweeps.

And now, I think back, what did really matter?

It was sort of funny that as I approached him, Klondike bar in his fat little hand, that he took a giant, hurried bite. It was also funny when I grabbed the Klondike bar from his fat little hand that he freakin' fought me for it. He literally pulled half of it away from me, shoved part in his mouth, dropped part on the floor and when he bent over to snatch it back, THAT's when I almost lost it.

But I did say "almost", and right now, almost is pretty sweet.

The First Day

So at this moment in my life I have:

1. A more than understanding husband.
2. Four boys who are better than either of us deserve.
3. Multiple pets most that we have cared for and loved for well over a decade.
4. A great house and neighborhood.
5. A great school that is educating our children.
6. Good, loyal, true friends.
7. A baby girl set to arrive the end of February.
8. Somehow managed to put myself in school to be a librarian.
9. Managed to stay in decent shape for a pregnant 35 year old.
10.Very strong opinions, and in order to become more bipartisan, know that I should rip my stickers off my van, but I just can't bring myself to do it!
11.Started thinking I may be a little depressed.

I have come to a point in my life where I realize that I am too busy. I am missing out on so many important things. I don't take pictures anymore. I don't fully listen to my children. I don't remember all of the funny things that they say, and I should. I know that I don't pay enough attention to my marriage.

When I tell my grandmother something, she always has something that she remembers, some little something. A story my grandfather told. A hotel where they stayed in Savannah.

I have so many things to do, most of them I signed up for, feel responsible for, and want to find a balance to keep doing what I'm doing, but do everything I can, all at a slower pace.

I don't want to look back on the day of my last birthday and not be able to remember a damn thing.

This is the first day of my journey to remember my life and the abundance of goodness it has to offer.