Do I Look Like an Aidan?
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Yesterday, I passed along the big news that I have a new nephew, whined a bit about geographical distance, and praised modern technology for keeping us closer to those who are far away.
Today, I’m talking about names.
For the first day of his life, my nephew was nameless. We all knew that Sister N and her husband Brother-in-Law J2 (I have another brother-in-law J who was brave enough to enter the Donnelley scene first, so it’s only fair that I knight him as BIL J1) had a short list of names. And once their little Chickie arrived, we all waited to hear them announce a winner.
Despite our my growing impatience, they waited a bit to name their guy. My sister said they wanted to wait until the hospital staff had bathed their boy, until he was all cleaned up, so she and her husband could get a good look at him. To see what he looked like. And what name fit.
And this made perfect sense to me. And none at all.
In my opinion, babies look like babies. In my opinion, babies come to fit the name they have been given. In my opinion, this naming bit is far more about us than it is about them and what they look like upon entering this big, bad world.
But enough about my opinion. What about yours? Do you think that certain names fit certain babies? Do you think that one baby looks like a Sally and another a Sienna? Do you think one baby looks like a Fred and another a Fitzgerald (Ooooh. Love that one. I call it!)?
Uh oh.
Here I am, thirty-one-years into my earthly existence wondering for the first time if I look like an Aidan? What do you think? In the above shot, I am cuddling my two girls. It is the week before Christmas. I like this picture because my smile is a real smile. I was trying to contain giggling girls on my lap. I also like this picture because it was my fifth wedding anniversary and the night of my family holiday party and I had my hair and makeup done that day. Which means that, for once, I did not look like this:
Okay, I’m lying. I don’t look like this the majority of the time. Just every morning. Usually, I end up somewhere between the coiffed smiley shot above and this here pre-coffee cuteness.
In making the determination of whether I look like an Aidan, would it be useful to see a baby picture?
Voila.
Does that help? Does this little princess with a paucity of hair and a fat lower lip look like an Aidan? Or should she have been named Allison?
[Looking at this picture makes me think of two things which are total tangents. Hence the hyphens. (1) Am I too old to be crawling? Should I feel insecure about this fact?; (2) My girls as babies look/looked a lot like I did as a baby, right down to the chubby cheeks and quasi-mullet. I love this.]
Do names fit the person or does the person come to fit the name? I don’t pretend to know. What I do know is that I treasure my name.
I love being Aidan.
Yes, even though every professor thought I was a boy when reading from a list. Yes, even though it seems like 94% people think of Sex and the City when I introduce myself. Yes, even though this name has become an exceedingly popular choice for boys recently. Yes, even though I hear my name called several times every time I make a cameo at a playground or at a kiddie class and this has made my ego swell beyond measure.
Yes, even though.
My name means “little fire.” I don’t know what I looked like when I entered this world. I don’t know what I acted like in my first days. I don’t know who I was back then.
But I do know who I am today. I am Aidan. A happy soul who revels in periodic sadness. An overgrown tomboy who likes to get dolled up. An artificial confection who clings to authenticity. A chaos dweller who wishes for order. A perfectionista who celebrates flaws. A creature riddled with contradictions.
A little fire. Waiting to grow up.
Not that it matters – or maybe this is exactly what matters – but I think I look like an Aidan. I do.
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Do you think you fit your name? Does your name fit you? What do you think the relationship between name and named is? How has your name affected you (or not)? How did you name your own kids if you have them? Enough about you. Do I look like an Aidan?
“little fire” huh? I was going to make a gag about farting babies but I won’t.
I agree with you – that babies grow into names. And as one pained chaos dweller to another, here’s to order.
*chink*
Aidan – you are definitely an Aidan! I love that professors thought you were a male. I never once thought of Sex and the City when thinking of you.
I do think we grow into the name we have.
Do I look like a Nicki? Back in the ancient times before you were on earth and I was born – 1961, Nicki was not a popular name for male or female. My father wanted a boy. He tried four times for a male child and four times received a bouncing baby girl. He also had a thing about people calling his children what he named them – like my mother had nothing to do with it. LOL! Hence, instead of my name being Deanne, it is Nicki – not Nicole, Nicki.
Yes you look like an Aidan! I really don’t care for my name, and am not sure it fits me. When we picked names for the boys we looked for different names, but not so different that they would be teased.
FINALLY!!!! PICTURES OF YOU!!!!!
i was supposed to be a jill… or a megan… but my parents decided that dad could choose my name and mom could choose my brother’s name.
my dad is bad at picking names.
I am like your sister. I would need to meet you and get to know you in person before I could say whether you looked like an Aidan
As to my name, I do not feel or look like a Nicole in my opinion. I feel and look like a Niki or a Nik in my opinion. So those are the names that I go by. I feel that formal-ness of Nicole does not suit me. I love manners and ettiquette, don’t get me wrong, but I am not stuff, and that is the way “Nicole” comes off to me. My parents named me Nicole because it is a family name on my mother’s side and they did it mainly to appease my grandmother.
I don’t have children, but apply your sister’s philosophy to my animals. One cat went a year without a name because she hadn’t told me what her name was yet. Kooky sounding, I know, but that’s going to be the name that sticks with her for life, it should be “hers”.
You know, I didn’t really think about my name much as a child, except that I always wanted a nickname, and Peyton doesn’t really lend itself well to any. So throughout middle school I insisted on being called by variations of my middle name, Michelle. It’s a good thing we moved a lot, because otherwise everyone would have been completely confused (”You’re going by *what* this semester?”). I also had the problem of people thinking I was a boy on class lists. I find that it’s a good way to weed out junk mail now–anything addressed to Mr. Peyton goes straight in the round file.
While I really do like my name now–my mom was such a trendsetter; I have much the same problem as you on the playground–I’ve noticed as my husband and I have been trying to pick a name for our baby girl (six more weeks! Gah!), my mom’s taste and mine are COMPLETELY different. I’ve noticed that a lot of her suggestions I’m dismissing completely out of hand, even if they’re perfectly nice names.
At the moment it looks like we might have a short list to take to the hospital (we’re down to two or three, but just so indecisive), but I don’t think, for us, that picking then will be a case of “wait and see what she looks like,” but more of a “okay, she’s actually here, we *really have* to pick now.”
As a side note, I think you don’t NOT look like an Aidan. But that’s how you introduced yourself, so that’s the name I started associating with you. If you’d told me you were Allison, that’s what I would have associated with you. I’m with you–the name becomes who you are, rather than you becoming what the name is.
Husband and I went through the same process as your sister and BIL did with Chickie. We didn’t know the gender of either of our boys before they were born and so met them with lists of names (both girls’ and boys’) swirling through our heads. With Big Boy, it took us almost a day to decide among our finalists. With Tiny Baby, I knew his name the second I saw him. Sense? Not so sure. Maybe some us are born with our names and some of us grow into our names. For most of us, I think, it is a combination of the two.
I don’t know either but I too love my name. I never met any other Rebeccas growing up so I felt special. The named seems dignified and worldly and attractive and smart and witty – all things I wanted to be and like to think I am. Then I grew up and my last names was added to this mix as well. I came to identify so much with my surname – it was an inexplicable part of me – that I couldn’t part with it when I married, nor could I hyphen or add another name (ok, the last part if not true. I offered to hyphen if my husband did as well. He passed so I passed).
Actually as I think about this, I think we do grow into our names. I don’t have children but we got a kitten in December. Naming her was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Her moniker seemed a bit large for her at first but she has to come to own the hell out of it.
Sorry for all the horrible types in my previous comment!
Yes, you do look like an Aidan. I think that we often grow into our names. I know that my kid’s names were chosen before they were born. Yet, each time I wondered, do they really look like an Queen and a Manly? With time, these names have grown on me, or on them. Now, I couldn’t think of any better names to suit their personalities!
But, I still think my parents should have named me Ambrosia. Much more mystical than plain, old, Amber. Oh, well.
A former colleague of mine called me Paige. He said I looked like a Paige. Not any Paige in particular; just someone who would be named Paige. When I socialized this theory with other work-friends they all agreed. “Yeah, you really do look like a Paige.”
Nevertheless, I am Gale and I like being Gale. And I like being G-a-l-e, not Gail or Gayle. Gale was the middle name of my mother’s father, who died before I was born. It is the middle name of her oldest brother, who is cantankerous and whom I love.
As for the naming of babies, I’m in your camp. We had a boy name and girl name at the ready when our son was born. And knowing that our baby could have been IEP or GGP, it was such a relief when the doctor said, “It’s a boy!” “Oh, IEP, it’s you! It was you all along!” Like meeting someone for the first time, he was IEP before we knew it. It’s like we were the last to the party. And I liked that.
As for you, madam, you look nothing like an Allison.
PS – In that baby picture it looks like you had just crawled up a step. I’m sure you stood up and walked right after that photo was taken!
What a delightful post. I agree that babies look like babies, which may be why we decided on girl names and boy names before each child. I had a very strong sense of what each son was like, before they were ever born. (And yes, I knew immediately that both were boys, long before that was confirmed.)
And each name suits the children they were, and the young men they are becoming. One has a nickname which “took” within weeks (it suited him better than his more formal name), and he actually uses both, for different circumstances.
As for my own name, it suits me perfectly. In my case, I suppose I “unGrew” into Big Little.
And yes – you do look like an Aidan – but I think I could also imagine you as a Lizzie. (No idea why, but if you ever weary of Aidan, you could don exotic earrings, take your daughters by the hands, and pass yourself off as a very convincing Lizzie.)
I agree: you are definitely an Aidan. And I am definitely an Elizabeth. I think that, because we are named and then raised by our parents, our names are usually a reflection of them AND us. Interestingly, people have mistakenly called me “Amy” and “Jennifer” my whole life (I had a PE teacher in junior high who called me Amy for an entire year). My husband’s name is “Maikael” (pronounced just plain ol’ Michael), and a big part of his identity is woven into the unique spelling of his name. “I always knew I was different growing up,” he says. Names are important.
Well, yes… you look like Aidan. I think we either grow into our names and become them, or we take them off like an ill-fitting coat and find one that fits.
I tried doing the first bit and settled on the latter.
Someone mentioned that you look nothing like an Allison, which I find rather amusing since I am an Allison and am tall, blonde, thin, and pretty, just like you. I think your name is much more unique than mine though, and I wonder if that helped you to embrace, accept, and explore all the things that are unique about yourself more so than a plain old Allison like me.
Great post, Aidan! Names are such an interesting topic. How many hours do prospective parents spend pouring over baby name books looking for the perfect name for their offspring? And, I agree – nine months is plenty of time to decide on a name. With our second son, we changed our minds for his name towards the end, but he did have a name from the moment he was born. However, to each their own.
I was never crazy about my name because it was quite common. I dreamed of an unusual, beautiful, or exotic name. Sasha, Catherine, Danielle, something with a little more “oomph.”
Now, people in the writing world call me “Debra” instead of “Debbie,” and I realize that’s the name my parents gave me – the name they wished I would’ve been called. But, in those days, nicknames were the name of the game. These days, Elizabeth or Samantha aren’t automatically turned into Liz or Sam.
I’m rambling, but I do love this topic. Names are fascinating. I love “Aidan” – it’s original, fresh, unique – the opposite of “Debbie.” No tears, though! I’ve grown into my name and I love it. Debra Lynn is pretty, and it was the name of my mom’s favorite doll growing up. So really, what’s not to like?
My mom’s name is Deborah Lynn too. (spelled differently) She never liked it shortened to Debbie. She thinks that names that end in the “e” sound, sound childish and she’s a grown woman now.
We didn’t wait to look at our kids when they were born to pick their names, it took months of sifting through dead relatives to pick names that honored Jewish tradition without having the kids end up named Seymour or Ethel! They each ended up born looking just like the names we had chosen, which was weird.
And even though I wrote on my blog about my original name being “Jane,” I will say that sometimes I get really sick of this aging babyboomer name of Linda and I wish I had stuck with that classic name so that it wouldn’t date me so badly.
You look like an Aidan to me because that’s always how I’ve known you. Does that make sense?
I used to hate my name because there was another kid in kindergarten named “Dana” and it was a boy and he was fat and an eraser/paste eater. Luckily, I’ve grown to love my name.
True story: we waited so long to name Miss D. that finally, the cranky lady from Social Security had to come down and force us to decide.
I love names. Whenever a friend is pregnant, I LOVE love love discussing their name choices…when they will.
I never liked my middle name so when I got married I changed it to my maiden name. So it’s gone! My parents didn’t even like my middle name anymore. I gave my mom a hard time about it and would ask her why she did it! She said she liked it at the time but not anymore.
My brother and sister-in-law couldn’t decide on a name for my nephew, so he was nameless for 2 weeks!!! It was getting kinda ridiculous.
I don’t know how I would ever decide on a name….I didn’t even have to name my dog, he came with his name. I have no idea what I would have named him.
I don’t really think you look like an Aidan, but maybe if I met you I would think you acted like an Aidan.
Oh Aidan, this is so cute. You DO look like an Aidan. And it is a great name, and one that is easy to love I think. Unique, but not off the wall. Different and boyish, yet smart and sassy. Hmm. Does any of that make any sense?
Names are hard. Boy names are the hardest. If I get my wish for another baby and it’s ANOTHER boy I swear I’ll just have to call him “it” or something similarly benign.
You’re cute as a button, aren’t you? Congrats on the new little nephew. Nothing more delicious than welcoming a new little life to the world.
I love reading your blog!!
This is ironic (and gets very scientific!)– http://dilbert.com/blog/entry/name_as_destiny/
Keep up the great work!
I know about “little fire”…my second one is Aidan and giving him a middle name that means “ocean” (Kai) did not help. He’s firey, for sure. As for my name? My whole name is Elizabeth. I never thought it fit me. Once, a friend who is quite the ditz and has no social filter (I love her) found out my name was not actually just Liz, but Elizabeth, and her response was: “Elizabeth? Really? That sounds too fancy for you.” I was not insulted. I thought she was right. I go by Liz. All the time. I don’t think I look like a Liz or an Elizabeth..but I do FEEL like a Liz. Do you feel like an Aidan? =)
I love that I can totally relate to this post…and I have no kids!
My mom loves to tell the story of how she and my dad had three names picked out for me before I was born and when they saw me they both mutually agreed I was a ‘Gillian’. I totally agree. I LOVE my name, it’s different but not wacky.
The other two names? My sister got hers by default because our next door neighbor was already named the third option.
Although I have no kids, I’ve got two kitties. The first name came so easily, I saw it on the name tag of a server at California Pizza Kitchen and it just fit. The second kitty was called ‘Baby’ for MONTHS until I just decided on Phoebe because it sounded sounded like Baby.
I might put too much thought into names, but after reading Freakonomics I’m so much more aware of the implications…
I love this post! I think babies don’t much look like anyone but “Chippie” or “SweetiePie” or “Pookie” until they’re about two, and always chuckle when parents say they’re waiting to see what name fits.
I have a nephew named Aidan and, frankly, you wear the name better than he does. It’s a beautiful name.
I think my name is a loud old lady’s name–I can hear her yelling out of the fourth floor window–or a whiny, brace-wearing adolescent’s name, and hope to God it doesn’t fit me. I like to think MP in Heels fits me better than does “Rosalie.”
My first baby was 4 days old before he had a name. The nurses were taking bets on what name we would pick (long stay=c-section). Eventually we picked a name we liked, but it truly could have been any name and it would have “fit.” In a way, the name chose the baby. The second one, however, arrived with a full head of glorious white-blond hair. So we named him “Finnegan” for fair-haired one. The baby chose the name
Congratulations to Sister N! Her baby boy will be one year younger than my twins. Whereabouts in Chicago? We’re on the NW side.
I think I do fit my name pretty well – Natalie means “Christmas Child” and I believe I am a child of wonder and hope, a believer in long shots and miracles, generous and kind.
We had picked out names for our babies, but agreed if they didn’t “fit” we wouldn’t hold on to them. But, they did fit. My oldest is God’s promise, her brother is a warrior angel, and their twin siblings are indeed an elf and a south meadow.
I think you fit your name well. My son, Ryan.. we had his name picked out from week 5 ( i think) and we never looked back, he was always ryan.. and when we met him.. his name fit rather well..
My name I’m still trying to fit into. Seran.. its entirely too unusal and ‘out there’ for my boring lifestyle now.