Happy New Year!

The night before New Years, Vincent came home from a bar night, proudly announcing that he wanted to talk to the baby, and that he had managed to walk almost all the way home with a trophy. That trophy being a large orange cone he found on the way, and though would make for an epic story and surprise for me if he could just make it all way. Unfortunately, about a block before the complex, he saw a line of cars headed his way, and he was too tired to finish the job, so he ditched the plastic decoration and told me about it straightaway instead. I certainly got a laugh out of it, especially as he described his journey, and told me, “How cool it would be to tell our son one day that I carried home a cone for you!” The story enough was enough entertainment, as I smartly comforted his disappointment, “Well, I’m not sure where we’d end up putting in anyway, considering how spatially limited we are.” But it does make for a funny moment during pregnancy, and so I decided that I would write it in here. Especially since Vincent’s resolution is to ease up on drinking. His theory being that if he uses the money for say, one week of drinking for something else instead, he will accomplish his main task of fixing his car more efficiently. It makes me smile, especially since he did just have it worked on the other day by his father, who is a mechanic. I had been concerned about the engine, the trouble he was having taking off and the shaking of the car (it is a standard), so I’m so relieved to see that’s been taken care of. The more proactive we are early on, the more prepared I feel about everything overall.

Speaking of getting things done, New Year’s Eve rolled around. Being that it was a Friday, wrestling was on, and Vincent and I decided to watch it before going out for the evening. Well, admittedly I am not the biggest fan, but Vincent is and got me into it. Considered that Cesar is always hearing it, I’m certain he’s going to enjoy it as well. There’s a wrestler on the show called Dolph Ziggler… and I guess his name is Adolph but it’s his nickname. He’s not even that good of a wrestler (or actor?) but his name had never clicked for us as being Adolph, so when the announcer said his name properly instead of using the nickname, we marveled at how we had never made the connection.

Now let’s skip forward a few hours later. We had walked into the deep downtown of San Antonio, to a little bar that I used to be a regular at before I was pregnant and knew most of the bartenders. After reminiscing, having a good time, and a number of drinks for Vincent later, we were discussing Cesar, and how we had his first and last name picked for sure. Then it just came out.

“We could name him Cesar Adolph,” and as an afterthought, “Of course we’d be kind of naming him after two dictators.”

Vincent, being the history major he is, well his eyes lit up in just the right way, that way which said I’d gotten his attention, and he was slowly processing all of this information. Then, he ran with it. “That is awesome.”

So there you have it. We are still debating between Adolph or Adolpho. While I ran into an unfortunate fight with my father over the matter of the name Adolf, I was surprised to see that most people were giving us a hard time about Cesar! Even though the spelling would indicate the pronunciation should be Spanish, I did make it clear I would pronounce it Caesar, which sends people into a frenzy of, “Why would you name your kid after a salad?” One gentleman, thinking to have a quick tongue, made such a comment as that. Unfortunately for him, I can be quite rotten when I get going, and since his name was Albert I promptly responded, “Well I certainly wouldn’t name my son after Fat Albert. I’d much rather him be named after a salad. Just goes to show how any name can be made fun of.”

So yes, I do fall into the firm belief now that it’s a very bad idea to reveal the name of your child early on, that is, unless you’re prepared for all the advice and heartache people are going to throw at you. I believe that we all live in circles you see. In each circle, we encounter words and names that we apply pictures to. I fancy South Park, for example, and so when someone says the name Eric, I think of Eric Cartman, the large, evil boy. When I think of Helena, I think of one of my favorite characters who is elegant and just a bit snobby on a video game I enjoy.

Unfortunately, because we all have different experiences, influences, and encounter a variety of people, everyone’s circle is different. That means that no matter what name you select, be it in the best interest or otherwise, everyone is subject to seeing a different picture than the one you may have intended. That’s just life, and unfortunately, no matter what name, every child gets made fun of. I tried to explain to my father (of course, I was very heated at the time) that even my name suffered. Amanda Keller. Well in every school, creative kids somehow equated it to Panda Killer. Amazing, no?

I felt tremendously better after talking to other mothers though. In general, they tend to be a little more sympathetic to the process and stress of name picking. One of my friends told me that her son’s name is Caleb, but in Hebrew it translates to “dog,” and while she was pregnant a few of her guy friends would always sing, “How much is that doggy in the window?” to her until she sobbed.

My other friend had the middle name Carmen, and she suffered children making references to a cartoon called, “Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?” I can take any name really, and turn it into a gag, and still children are far better at this task than me. Why? I suppose as an adult we want humor to have a little more intelligence to it. Children, on the other hand, in their innocence, can think just about anything is funny.

So yes, I fear that some little jerk is going to make a reference to Adolf Hitler at some point or another. But my mother made a really good point, which was that whether or not that has any effect on our son is in how we raise him. If he is strong, proud, and resilient, it will probably not have any consequence and therefore not last long, as happens with most confident children. However, if he is weak and easily distraught, then yes, we’ll have a problem. It’s not so much about the name, she explained, as it is his character. After all, my brother, Sean, was constantly picked on throughout school, and would be through high school. Had nothing to do with his name, but because he turned out to be a “target” he suffered.

Of course, it’s also important to point out how supportive Vincent has been in all this. I’ve never seen him tested before with anything, and I was even a little embarrassed to admit that my father had given me such grief over our choice, since he’s afraid that we would offend thousands of people and that it would ruin our son’s chances at life. I didn’t know how Vincent would react to this news, if he would take the criticism of others seriously or not. I had been so pleased with our choice. I honestly liked it, Adolph or Adolpho, I didn’t care and it hadn’t occurred to me anyone would get so bent out of shape about it. But when I told Vince, I was so surprised. Not only did he do his own bit of “research” by asking friends and coworkers of his own, but he said, “You know, if anyone doesn’t want to meet our son or be around him because of his name, then f@*! ‘em.” He was that proud of his own choice and liked the name enough to stand up for it.

I was so relieved, it reinstated the thrill of my original happiness, that innocence surrounded by laughter and joy when we had first decided that we had, in fact, found a satisfying name. I even did my own research, discovering that no one sensible felt that any name should be considered offensive as long as the intent was heartfelt, and that just because there were bad apples out there with certain names, doesn’t mean the name should be lost for all time. Vincent even told one of his friends, “Charles Manson had a cult and killed.” When his friend kindly responded, “Well, Hitler had a much larger impact,” he smartly replied, “Ok, Josef Stallin killed millions more than Hitler, yet the name Josef is still much used.” I guess being a history major does have its perks. I makes me happy that it’s not just about the fact that I liked the name, it’s that we both really like it.

Now for the funny part. When we had first selected these names, naturally I had to find out what they meant! Cesar means, “thick head of hair,” and Adolph or Adolpho means, “noble wolf.” If anything, I think we might have jinxed our son to be a hairy beast!

And yes, I had my glass of champagne at midnight, if those tiny plastic tubes are even worthy of being called a glass. It was not sweet as is my preference, but not so dry as I could not enjoy it either. Vincent told me to stand up, and he kissed me so nicely that I thought I was on TV! So much so that a few people in the bar started laughing and telling us to get out! It’s these good times I hope I can pass on to our son, not the silly mess over his name. I would just hate to have that memory of the fight with my father implanted in my head, and have to talk about that in detail to Cesar ever. It’s why I didn’t write too much about it. I don’t want to deny it, certainly it did happen. But I have to ask myself, should I tell my son that when we chose his name I was happy but then had an awful fight, in which all these terrible things were said... or should I tell him that even though there was a bit of controversy after, when we chose his name it was the start of a brand new year. We were merry and affectionate, and we celebrated the idea throughout the night and after because it was perfect.