12:31 p.m. - 2006-06-02
Narrowing Down the Choices
Now that we know we're having a she-tus, we can effectively eliminate 50% of the possible names. This is good. All my life, I've created an ongoing and fluid list of potential baby names for a girl, but was never really sure about boys.
I love assigning names to things. I've never really "named" anything officially before, but I'm big fan of nicknames (especially unflattering ones). I have about 10 nicknames a piece for each of my cats -- Catboy, Fuzzy Bunny, Monkey Man, Gingeroo, Gin Gin, Mama Love, to name a few -- god, they're all so stupid-sounding when I verbalize them! I have nicknames for my clients' pets (my client Tammy's cats are Star, Ernie and Chance, but they will always be Superstar, Ernie Man, and Chancey Boy to me). I have nicknames for people I work with (though it's probably best not to divulge those).
So, I think about names a lot. And now that we know it's a girl, I get asked "What are you going to name her?" a whole lot more than before. I'm pretty sure I know what my first choice is -- it's on my original list I published a while back -- but I'm hesitant to actually name her before she's born (though I address her by this name when I talk to her).
One thing I'm fairly certain about is her middle name, which I think will be Lucia. It's a tribute to my aunt/godmother Lucille, who passed away from breast cancer eight years ago this October (in fact, my due date is very close to my the date of her death). Auntie LuLu, as I called her, was my mom's younger sister, her only sibling, and they were best friends. She was also one of my best friends, and was one of the most important people in my life. Her death shook me deeply. Up to that point, I hadn't lost anyone close to me (except my paternal grandfather -- Grandma Mary's husband --who died when I was 12), and dealing with her sickness and eventual passing was one of the most painful experiences of my life. The last time I saw her was my wedding day a few months earlier, and I'll never forget seeing her, barely able to stand or breathe, right before I walked down the aisle.
She had a million friends and a million stories, all of them hilarious -- though she was the funniest person I knew. One of the best things about her was getting her to tell you a funny story about something that happened to her or someone else -- if it was really funny, she'd crack herself up so hard that she could barely finish. Just watching her laugh made you do the same. But she was also remarkably sensitive and gave the best advice. Often, when I was a dramatic teenager, I'd call her for guidance, and she always put things in perspective. Even when I was a kid, she talked to me like I was an adult, and never dumbed it down. I borrowed her cool clothes and she showed me how to apply makeup without looking like a tramp (and then fought to get my mom to allow me to actually wear it). I absolutely adored this amazing woman, and miss her terribly still. I hope so much to see some of Auntie Lu's personality in my own daughter -- it would be the ultimate gift she left for me.
Speaking of Auntie Lu, I haven't heard from her beloved son Mike in quite some time now... HINT HINT. Mikey boy, where are you? I don't even have your new email address!
Oooh, I just heard there's chips in the kitchen!!
