Hello! I know... its been a while. We've been busy. The nursery is prepped. The house is looking to be in good condition and I think we have all the necessary baby items in order to bring wee-man back home. Now we're onto the toughest part of this venture. A name.
What's in a name? What does a name say about the child you are about to bring into this world. You don't want the name to be too sissy. I LOVE YOU MOM, BUT YOUR PICK COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER. See, in my case, I have the name Robin. I know - you may be shocked. BUT WHY DOES HE GO BY ROB? WHO IS THIS "ROBIN" ROB IS TALKING ABOUT? Robin... A wonderful name by itself.... but a tad bit on the feminine side right? I mean really... do I look like a Robin?
My mother (again I love you Mom), played it safe. As a male - I am Robin. If I were a female - I would also be Robin... But with a "Y". Thus, Robyn.
The two are far too close in proximity to each other to really decipher one from the other. Go ahead, ask Robyn Regehr (defenseman for the Calgary Flames - click
here) how happy he is to have a girls name? I'm pretty sure him and I are on the same page. I love you Mom. Dad - where were you when the name was being handed out? And yes - I love you too Dad.
Now on the flip-side, there's going to far with a name. Masculinity. BRICK, AXEL, MAXIMUM, POWER. I AM MAN AND HEAR ME ROAR! That would be compensating just a little too much. Right? We've got to find a common ground. Something in between.
So what are we going to call wee-man? Captain. I still love it, but its just not appropriate. We need something that embraces Ash's wonderful Indian and Hindu background, while simultaneously embracing my (what the hell am I again????) English / Scandinavian / Norwegian / Catholic heritage? Wow - based on that description its amazing I'm not translucent. I really need to talk to my parents about our ancestry.
We have come close to picking one... but kids can be cruel nasty little creatures. Not all kids. But man... put a pack of them together and watch them cripple the greatest of men. The things kids can pick on is crazy. Have different shoes than the rest - BAM - you're a loser. Don't like the same soccer team as them - BAM - you're an outcast. Don't listen to the same music as me - BAM - you're a DJ. Ha! I have to think at some point even Superman must have cried as a kid because he was so different than everyone else. But he also has kick-ass super powers. Ok. I'm now officially crossing my fingers for a healthy child with super powers.
Peer pressure. It's sad it still works even in your 30's. Would have thought I (we) could have gotten past that... but alas... once you give a child a name, she or he is branded for life. You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose. And you can't pick family. For that matter... you can't pick a name either.
I still love you Mom and Dad.
So this weeks conundrum like many weeks before continues to be - what the hell are we going to name our son?
