On the (Re)naming of my children

might have found some good ideas in here....

I’ve noticed a trend amongst certain bloggers of using pseudonyms for family members.  The pseudonyms often communicate something charming about those to whom they are applied:  Little Camper, Sweet Mama, the Farmer, etc.  Cute, right?  Now, I don’t have any privacy concerns motivating me to use online nicknames.  We’re already out there at various places on the internet.  If someone wants to know the names of my children they’re not exactly going to need security clearance from the FBI to find them.  The idea of using pseudonyms sounded like fun, though – and all the more so if I let the kids choose the names for themselves.  It would be a little shared whimsy between the children and myself.  Well, that may not have been my best idea ever.  Someone always has to be a wise guy, and this time it was the firstborn.   But I’m stubborn and sticking to my plan, so my children are newly renamed.

The problem with the firstborn, age 19, is that he immediately chose as his name “Baphomet, Lord of the Underrealms”.  It wouldn’t have been my selection, but I try to pick my parenting battles carefully.  I told him he could be Baphomet if  I could immediately diminutize it into “Baph”.  That seemed an acceptable compromise and we shook on it.

Baph and his minion, B.Lake

After Baph, it was on to our 15-year-old daughter who opted for Striker.  It’s a reference to her mad soccer skilz, although I think it makes her sound like a a character from a bad action movie.  Our younger son became B.Lake for reasons that make sense to us but that won’t mean a thing to anyone else.   That left the two little girls.  The nine-year-old was easy.  She went with a nickname she’d already been given by friends:  Cheesy.  This is not a critique of her character, but an acknowledgment of her unhealthy obsession with cheese.  Example:  she asked for a lifetime supply of cheese for Christmas, and no one finds that surprising (she’s not getting it, by the way).  Our youngest, at six, has the most straightforward and the sweetest nickname (and, not coincidentally, the only one I lovingly selected).  She is Bee, because she is my little Busy Bee, the child you want at your side when the laundry needs to be folded or the kitchen needs to be cleaned.

Cheesy, Striker and Bee

That’s it; that’s all the kids I have.  It was enjoyable going through the naming process with them, even if my firstborn chose the name of a goat-headed demon.  The upside is that he doesn’t behave like one.


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