Baby Names – Christopher Part 1of4

December 27th, 2017

Note: Before I get started, I want to say that I wrote a series of articles quite some time ago about how we named our kids, but after doing an online search of the site, I couldn't find it. What follows, and following articles, is a rough recreation of that original series.

One of the benefits, probably the single best benefit of being a parent is naming rights. The name you give that little bundle of joy that you've just created with your spouse will stick with them forever. It's going to be how they are known for life, so choose wisely.

Names have meanings, and you want that child to have the perfect name. A unique name, setting them apart from other kids. A name that's descriptive of their personality. A name that everyone will be proud of carrying, and referring to for posterity.

The trouble is that almost every kid, at some time or other, reaches a point where they hate their name, even if it's a cool, well thought out name. "Why did you name me that?" They may ask with a disgusted eye roll. Maybe it's a common name like John, or Bob, or Bill, a name that a lot of kids are named. Maybe the reason was so they could blend into the crowd. Maybe the name is a rare find, unearthed from the deepest, darkest bowels of a baby naming book. But a kid named Wolfgang, or Griselda might end up in a lot of playground fights. The same could be said for family names like, Throckmorton or Lucretia.

With our own kids, I kind of wanted to have a son named after me, but Robin didn't like the idea of a Keith Jr. She wanted each child to have a name that was theirs alone. Eventually, we settled on sharing my middle name when sone #1 was born. We thought a name from the Bible would do, but somehow Mephibosheth didn't set well. We wanted one that might project the kind of person we wanted him to be, a good Christian adult who would carry on the good ethic of Christ like living. A bearer of Christ, which is what Christopher means. The only person in the family with that name, or one like it was a female cousin. That being the case, we figured that we could keep them separated when talking about Chris in conversation. We figured with some of the trendy names of the time, there might not be too many boys in his grade with the same name, so Christopher Eric got his name.

Once he was born, or maybe it was during the last months of pregnancy, we were watching a movie where the tough guy in the story was named Butch. I commented to Robin, "that's pretty convenient that movies give characters names to suit them in the story. A tough guy named Butch, or a mild mannered guy named Wallace, or something. How did their parents know how their little 6 pound bundle would turn out 10 years later?"

" Her response, "You are not going to name our son Butch!"

"OK, I promise I won't name him Butch." But I thought it might make a good nickname..."

Robin's mental telepathy kicked in, and continued, "And you're not going to even nickname our son Butch!" How did she do that? How did she know what I was thinking.

I agreed, and Chris got another big,, manly, nickname... Moose. Robin was resistant at first, but eventually caved in. I just hoped the name didn't prove out to be an ironic one. I could fore see a scrawny little kid in a middle school gym class with the monicker Moose. A far cry from the star of the sporting fields. Fast forward to the future, and Chris may not have ever been a sports star, but he's a pretty tall guy.

There was a slight problem with this kid though. Chris didn't seem to want to respond to his name, or nickname wall the time. Granted, some of that had to do with the need for tubes in his ears for proper drainage, and fighting off ear infections.

One day, he was playing with a house plant. Robin was in the kitchen, and warned me to keep an eye on the baby. "Don't let him play with the plant. She said.

Just then I looked up to see little fingers reach for the plant. "Chris!" I admonished. "Get your hands off that!" What does a 1 year old know about not playing in the dirt... but he ignored me, being focused on the inviting flower pot. I tried again "Chris!" I called to him, but he didn't even look up from his mission. I tried again, this time switching to his nickname, "Moose! Stop; it!" Still no indication he heard me. Finally I called out, "Hey! You!" He stopped in his tracks, looked up at me, and grinned. Chris had a new nickname.

Most of the time, our Kidds were known, and called by their given names, but even today they still get called by their nicknames. Usually in fun, and in memory of those early days. For Chris, he has revealed in not only being known as Moose, but the Wild Moose.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

%d bloggers like this: