The 'Initial' Problem

{In which I try to name my child}

I don’t know if anyone else has found this - or if I’m just being even more particular than usual, which is my prerogative as a preggo pop – but choosing a boy’s name is really hard. Before our big gender reveal lit up an area between the legs that should not have been present had we been carrying the sex our guts told us we were carrying, we already had a list of girl’s names longer than both my arms. We knew what we loved, we knew what we hated, we knew that my husband's aversion to the name ‘Violet’ was insane because it's a beautiful name and doesn't sound too much like 'violent,' no matter how many times he insists it does, and we had several different choices all laid out, just ready to be picked out of a hat on the day baby emerged from its cocoon within my womb. We were so prepared for this eventuality, in fact, that we had even decided which names went nicely together if we were to have twins. First name and middle guys… First name AND MIDDLE.

But for boys? Well, boys names we find a little trickier, with our conversations usually going something like this:

Me: “How about Toby? Toby is sweet”
Him: “Yeah, I like Toby, but that was the name you wanted if our Labrador had been a boy, and now when I think Toby, I think ‘overweight black lab’”
Me: “...Yeah, I kinda think that too”


Me: “I’ve got it! Rory!”
Him: “Oh yeah, Rory is good”
Me: “Yeah, Rory, I like Rory”
An hour passes
Me: “Is it a bit hard to say though, Rory? I feel like I struggle to say it”
Him: “Yeah I’ve gone off it already”

A silver lining is that we do have a limited list of two options, that has remained consistent throughout. The bad news being that we each favour a different of the pair, and neither of us looks set to back down… Although I am starting to waver, which brings me to the next part of my musing: the importance of initials.

It started last night. It was approximately 3 hours past my new bedtime (so like, 11ish), and I was googling baby names. I google baby names most days now, as though expecting the perfect name to pop out and slap me round the face with its certainty. Spoiler: it never does. Anyway, whilst browsing, I spotted my husband’s first choice on one of the websites. And, not for the first time, I thought “this could work.” And I started to get excited. I paired the name with the middle names I’m set on (one for dad, one for grandad), and was all but ready to throw in the towel on my own first choice when, horrified, I came to the following realisation… if we go with my husband’s choice, our baby will have the initials ASSG. As in... ASS G. As in... I'd be naming my baby ASS (sort of, but not really - in the cold hard light of rational thought I now see I may have been seeing a problem that isn't there. But also, what if the problem is there? Which side of my personality - aka the rational or the baby brain - is correct here?)

Well, I have spiralled.

‘If we call our son ASSG (imagine I used the full name here, not yet ready to reveal)… would people call him ASSman?’ I text my husband, admittedly from the next room, because although I wasn’t yet sleeping, I was rather cosy. He didn’t reply, giving me time to ramp up my frenzy, ‘Or ASS Gittins?’ I said, ‘ASShole?’ and then, my crowning glory of a feared nickname, ‘Oh god, ASSman G???’

My husband’s response? “What is wrong with you?” accompanied by laughter. What is wrong with me is that I don't want my child to hate me for giving him a name that is so easy to twist, is what's wrong with me dear husband, is what I thought. However, so as not to seem like I’d lost every marble in my pencil case, I instead laughed along in a 'I'm so silly' manner, before spooning my pregnancy pillow, turning out the light, and staring at the wall in wide eyed horror as I considered the ramifications of bringing an ASSman into the world. I mean, honestly, I want my son to be kind and bright and a fun filled soul. Am I tempting fate if I name him ASS? Is the world not filled with enough unfortunate ASS(hole)s? I slept on it. And, this morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, or talking about it, actually, prompting my husband to ask, eyebrows raised, if I was ‘doing okay’. Which, clearly not babe, what a ridiculous question.

Now, upon becoming pregnant, I discovered how invaluable online forums are, and promptly joined a couple. There's one in particular that I like, which is usually filled with amusing rants about demon in-law's, questions about quite gross things that make me do the sick face emoji IRL and, sometimes, frankly savage takedowns of one of the women, who posts some truly awful things regarding her friends and family, and who you can't help but to dislike (I don't involve myself in said takedowns, but I do sit back and drink the tea whilst all goes down.) Today, it seemed my time had come to pose an important question to the hive mind, hoping for some words of advice. It did not resolve the problem.

“I’m now giggling hysterically in the office about ASSman G 😂😂” 

“You can always just divulge one rather than both so tell people your initials are ASG. I don’t think it’s an issue at all for little ASSman G 😄” 

“My husband has the same initials, I’m definitely calling him ASSman G from now on”

And, simply: 

“ASSman G 😂”

I was pleased to have brightened everyone's day with the kookier of my inner demons, of course, but also I fear I’m not being taken seriously. And, still, I worry that I have a point. I mean, someone, someday, is bound to call our child ASSman G if we burden him with the initials ASSG, right? I don’t think I even need to state by this point that that person, if not a schoolyard joker or a best friend having a rib, could well even be me, his mother, the reason for the pain inflicted by such a sequence of names to begin with. And so I sit here alone, slowly losing what's left of my mind, fearing I may never come to a satisfactory conclusion regarding this issue, and that my poor child will suffer as a result...

... I guess only time will tell which way the pendulum swings. 🤷

Lottie xxx


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