In honor of Larhonda Griselda Gamaliel Dinnius Martell Uther Symington

One of the biggest tasks parents-to-be have is figuring out what to name their incoming poop machine.

            Luckily, Melissa and I got the biggest step out of the way when the doctor told us our “it” was going to be a “girl”. He didn’t bother to give any advice on how a 54-year old father should deal with his 17-year old daughter, but I noticed he had some beer coupons in his desk. Right under the ear plugs.

In any case, it’s really nice to know it’s a girl. I wasn’t really looking forward to my 50’s or 60’s anyway. And now I have the chance to plan on having a pre-teen, tween-aged and teenaged girl during those years. So I have a running start!



A 54-year old father's nightmare



More importantly, now that we know she’s going to be a she, we can come up with proper name. There’s nothing more embarrassing than settling on the name Jessica Marie, only to have a son pop out. I mean, it would be terrible for him to get beat up all those years at school with a silly name like that. Totally uncalled for.



            So, it’s a girl. Good start. The next thing is coming up with a name that is dignified, sensible and not open to getting her beat up at school. Granted, you can always go the safe route and choose Tracy. Or Alex. Or Addison. They can go both ways. But we choose to live closer to the edge.

You also have to make sure the name you pick doesn’t lead to questionable initials: Henrietta Ophelia Readling – HOR – or Barrimore Angelique Readling – BAR, for example.  Or, my favorite, Larinda Yvonne Readling – LYR.

            See! It takes a lot more thought than you realize.

            To that end, I now find myself scouring anything and everything for good names. You listen to names on TV and the radio. You pull names off the fronts of magazines. I find myself reading waitresses nametags for ideas. Yeah, I always did that anyway, but only because it was good excuse to stare at breasts. Now, I’m actually paying attention.

            Then, of course, there is the help you get from outside. Two women at work decided I could name her Mary Susan. Or Susan Mary. Susan and Mary said they didn’t really care which way it went.

Alex brought over a book with 30,000 names in it. And we can’t thank her enough. No, really. We can’t. It’s 6 inches thick and weighs 17 pounds. What’s even better is the fact all those names have meanings. For example, did you know Kallirroe means “beautiful stream” and that the name Delphin is born from a 4^th century saint who was bishop of Bourdeaux, or that Pepper is a named derived from the name “of a pungent spice”? Very helpful, to say the least.

            My mother has sent in her suggestions via email: Henrietta was one. So was Penelope. And Maura and Laurel.



What an Oua'Neisha might look like (at least according to Google Image Search)



            Mumsy and my sister even donated some special family heirlooms, which could help us decide on a name. First, a little history: For years, my mother would scour the Births section of the newspaper (both in Jupiter and Orlando), looking for, um, unique names. Ahem, unique, names like (and I’m just choosing randomly here) Consolatrix, Harbhajan, Oua’Neisha and Rickxon. There are also very helpful comments in these books. Such as: Hardat (this kid is hardat work) and Haybat (how his father calls his mother).

             Anyway, they put together not one, but two, 50-plus page lists (compiled by Mother Dearest, edited and published by Sister Darling), which have been donated to Melissa and I. They are titled Sally’s Name Your Chillin Book and are very helpful, as is most everything my mother does for me. Part of writing a blog is the unrivaled ability to suck up to your parents, thereby ensuring better Christmas presents. Sorry, Sarah.

             Needless to say, with all this help, we should have a baby name in no time at all. That doesn’t mean there’s an announcement upcoming, or anything like that, I’m just saying if you catch me staring at the chest of some college girl who happens to be bringing me food, lay off, I’m just researching baby names.





Seriously!! All she's missing is a name tag!