Friday, October 10, 2008

One more sleep

until I get home to nomnomnom these cheeks.

I can't wait to meet this little fellow.

Though I won't share his name on teh innernets, I will tell a story about his name.

Years ago, when my brothers, their girlfriends (now my fabulous sisters-in-law) and I were sitting around, we started talking about baby names. I don't know why. I suspect I was rather drunk.

But, I do remember saying that if I ever had a son (there was still a possibility of me reproducing, then) I would name my son xxxx. Because that name was the Scottish version of my father's first name (not the name he uses), the name of his father (the greatest man who ever walked the earth. Seriously. I miss him every day) and my maternal grandfather's name. It is also the name of the man who acted as parent to me when I lived abroad, in Scotland. It is a name that is powerful, significant, and there's no way to make a silly nickname of it (that might be the most important part).

I think a name is important. A name should be chosen carefully, because it influences its recipient. A name should be inspiring, full of possibility, and perhaps most importantly, beautiful. That child will have that name for the rest of his/her life (unless he/she chooses otherwise, and that's OK too).

I knew that Jr.J was going to be born on September 30. By 3 pm that day, I was starting to worry. By 10 pm, I was rather panicked. So, I phoned my mom. She wouldn't tell me anything except the basics, because it wasn't her news to tell. It was a boy, all was well... and she thought there would be some issues about the name. Seems that my other brother and sister-in-law were considering that name as well, for a boy (one month to go!).

I laughed. I told mom that there was a name I had liked, years ago, and both the girls had appeared to file it away for future reference. We talked a little about Mini J, and how she was doing, and I went to sleep, knowing all was well.

My brother phoned the next day, after a good long sleep of his own, to tell me about his son. The son that has the name I chose. I repeat. The. Name. That. I. Chose.

I am thrilled. And flattered that people paid that much attention to my words (regardless of our mutual affection). I am moved beyond anything that a few words I tossed off in a casual conversation were noted. And remembered. And acted on.

Again, welcome to the world, Little xxxx. You have the name I would have given you, if you were mine. I'm pretty sure I'll be yours forever.

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