Friday, June 26, 2009


When I was born, my parents named me. Within 2 weeks, I'm told, they began calling me something else. Well, my mom did. I still have the IRS and my dad to call me by my "real" name.

I promised myself I would never do that to any of my kids. Having to explain to every teacher in my life why the roster said one thing and I was called another brought attention to me that I didn't want. Then I had a Fourth. Our oldest is the Fourth with his name, John. His dad is also John, and I didn't want to call our son Johnny. It seems that, when that happens, it never ends, and you have a 49 year-old man being called Johnny. (Yes, Carol, I love you. But the Johnny thing?) And HIS dad is called Jack. So that was not available. There was even a great-grandpa named John.

So we chose Jay. And he told me the other night that he always had to explain that to his teachers, and didn't appreciate it. I knew I should have homeschooled him, too.

But I guess it isn't all that important. As we get older, we forget names, and the people around us do, too. Here's a semi-humorous video about how one man suggests we handle the issue...


The Rebellious Pastor's Wife said...

My mom spelled my name "L-O-R-A" She thought it would be easier with my 12 letter long maiden name. It only meant that I had to spell the whole dang thing. Then, I married a HORN, and life could've been SO easy for me (except for the fact that everyone likes to add an "e" to the last name).

I was one of 3 "lauras" in my class, and hated being called "Lora K" So if "Jay" kept your son from that, really, its kind of a blessing.

Glenda said...

And my little sister was named Jenny. Not Jennifer because my mom said she would be called Jenny anyway so just name her that. But there were some teachers who refused to believe her that her name really was Jenny and not Jennifer.