Here comes the Issue Bus. And, shocker, the Gator* is driving.
The backstory: I didn't get married until I was 35 years old. When planning everything, I told my Sweetie that he should change his last name to mine, since I will have been Non-Mumple for 35 years. He informed me that since he was 9 months older, he wins--he's been Pre-Mumple for longer.
I decided, for several reasons, to drop my given middle name and keep my maiden name as my middle name. No hyphenation, no fuss, no muss. Just presto change-o and I have a new monogram. My reasons, at the time, included: I was someone for 35 years and I wasn't ditching that person; I have a son who has that last name also; at work, I would be called Non-Mumple anyway; I was never that fond of my middle name, and since it wasn't bestowed in an misguided attempt to impress or endear anyone to me, I didn't need to keep it. (The reasons have expanded to now include the fact that there is a woman in town, that had I not made this particular decision, we'd have exactly the same name...not that it's so common, but, in all honesty, she's a shrew and we have the same doctor--and some of the problems that stem from just the first and last names being the same have been nightmares.)
Anyway, when I made it clear to all concerned that this was the decision, my mother about blew an aorta. She probably would have been more agreeable to my saying that I was going to join a cult. Her arguements came down to this: That's not the name your father and I chose and gave you when you were born. (Never mind that my Sweetie's last name is not one they chose and gave me either, that much of a change was commanded, demanded, and expected.)
I informed her of the flaw in her grand arguement to have me conform to HER way of thinking (Somehow, I thought it would be less vile, even to her, to continue to identify myself with my son and my father, than to drop a name that had meaning only because she chose it from a long list of possibilities--silly, silly, liberal me.) I made it clear that I was not hyphenating (believe it or not, that costs money with the DMV.), but like I said, you'd think I was joining a cult and changing my name to Jim Jones or something the way she sneered.
Prior to this, she also made it clear, through snide comments and spittle, that she did not like the name we chose for our daughter. The Howler's given name is a mombo-combo of my first and (previous) middle name and Kevin's first and (permanent) middle name. Kevin also liked the idea that he and his daughter would share, at least for a while (stress of the phrase from the Gator), a monogram. He had no interest in having a son named after him, but he also likes the idea that our daughter has his middle name, although, he did chose to spell it in a more feminine way. My mother sees that as the height of vanity--never mind that she named her son for his father--she claims that it is not vanity when it's a boy. (The logic here boggles the mind, doesn't it!)
Flash forward to now: Kevin's niece (and mine because "what's his is mine and what's mine is mine" lol) and her DH just had a baby. She had her heart set on naming her son after his father--and he refused. So, she did the next best thing--she found and chose a name that is very similar to his Daddy's name, and, in fact, has Daddy's name as it's root. Whether or not anyone else likes it, he is their son, and naming their baby is the first gift, after life, they will give him. That's all that matters to the rest of us--they chose his name together, and they like it.
I went to see the baby yesterday. He's beautiful--and one of those children who are more beautiful the more you look at him. He's wonderful! I'm so very happy for them (and as an aside, I do not want one!).
When I got home and talked to my mother last night about him, I told her his full given name. The Gator gets in the Issue Bus and starts yapping about my daughter's name--and the fact that I dropped my perfectly good middle name.
What a whack job she is over this. It's been FIVE freaking YEARS and she's still holding a grudge, seeming to think that I rejected HER in choosing, with my husband and my daughter's father (same guy, just said funny) a name that has meaning to both of us; and because I dropped one name in favor of one with more meaning to me and my children--one in which I closely identify and am pleased to still have.
(I won't even start on the fact that my mother's given first name is actually two names, with no given middle name, chose, as an adult, to begin using only the first of the two first names and dropped the second part of her first name to second-fiddle middleness.)
Again, the mind boggles that woman even has a driver's license for the Issue Bus. I see her more as a Tour Guide.
*The Gator = my mother
The backstory: I didn't get married until I was 35 years old. When planning everything, I told my Sweetie that he should change his last name to mine, since I will have been Non-Mumple for 35 years. He informed me that since he was 9 months older, he wins--he's been Pre-Mumple for longer.
I decided, for several reasons, to drop my given middle name and keep my maiden name as my middle name. No hyphenation, no fuss, no muss. Just presto change-o and I have a new monogram. My reasons, at the time, included: I was someone for 35 years and I wasn't ditching that person; I have a son who has that last name also; at work, I would be called Non-Mumple anyway; I was never that fond of my middle name, and since it wasn't bestowed in an misguided attempt to impress or endear anyone to me, I didn't need to keep it. (The reasons have expanded to now include the fact that there is a woman in town, that had I not made this particular decision, we'd have exactly the same name...not that it's so common, but, in all honesty, she's a shrew and we have the same doctor--and some of the problems that stem from just the first and last names being the same have been nightmares.)
Anyway, when I made it clear to all concerned that this was the decision, my mother about blew an aorta. She probably would have been more agreeable to my saying that I was going to join a cult. Her arguements came down to this: That's not the name your father and I chose and gave you when you were born. (Never mind that my Sweetie's last name is not one they chose and gave me either, that much of a change was commanded, demanded, and expected.)
I informed her of the flaw in her grand arguement to have me conform to HER way of thinking (Somehow, I thought it would be less vile, even to her, to continue to identify myself with my son and my father, than to drop a name that had meaning only because she chose it from a long list of possibilities--silly, silly, liberal me.) I made it clear that I was not hyphenating (believe it or not, that costs money with the DMV.), but like I said, you'd think I was joining a cult and changing my name to Jim Jones or something the way she sneered.
Prior to this, she also made it clear, through snide comments and spittle, that she did not like the name we chose for our daughter. The Howler's given name is a mombo-combo of my first and (previous) middle name and Kevin's first and (permanent) middle name. Kevin also liked the idea that he and his daughter would share, at least for a while (stress of the phrase from the Gator), a monogram. He had no interest in having a son named after him, but he also likes the idea that our daughter has his middle name, although, he did chose to spell it in a more feminine way. My mother sees that as the height of vanity--never mind that she named her son for his father--she claims that it is not vanity when it's a boy. (The logic here boggles the mind, doesn't it!)
Flash forward to now: Kevin's niece (and mine because "what's his is mine and what's mine is mine" lol) and her DH just had a baby. She had her heart set on naming her son after his father--and he refused. So, she did the next best thing--she found and chose a name that is very similar to his Daddy's name, and, in fact, has Daddy's name as it's root. Whether or not anyone else likes it, he is their son, and naming their baby is the first gift, after life, they will give him. That's all that matters to the rest of us--they chose his name together, and they like it.
I went to see the baby yesterday. He's beautiful--and one of those children who are more beautiful the more you look at him. He's wonderful! I'm so very happy for them (and as an aside, I do not want one!).
When I got home and talked to my mother last night about him, I told her his full given name. The Gator gets in the Issue Bus and starts yapping about my daughter's name--and the fact that I dropped my perfectly good middle name.
What a whack job she is over this. It's been FIVE freaking YEARS and she's still holding a grudge, seeming to think that I rejected HER in choosing, with my husband and my daughter's father (same guy, just said funny) a name that has meaning to both of us; and because I dropped one name in favor of one with more meaning to me and my children--one in which I closely identify and am pleased to still have.
(I won't even start on the fact that my mother's given first name is actually two names, with no given middle name, chose, as an adult, to begin using only the first of the two first names and dropped the second part of her first name to second-fiddle middleness.)
Again, the mind boggles that woman even has a driver's license for the Issue Bus. I see her more as a Tour Guide.
*The Gator = my mother
1 comment:
Grrr. Augh.
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