Letter Rip

Choosing a child’s name is a daunting and overwhelming process. The responsibility of deciding what another person will be called forever is huge. When they brought me Keilana’s birth certificate application for my signature, I had my first parental anxiety attack. What if I was making a terrible decision? What if she hated it and needed therapy to get over it? What if it didn’t match her or her personality? And so on. It took me hours to put pen to paper and the nurse got pretty exasperated. When we found out Connor was a boy, “Kiefer” was the name we chose. But I had a dream that it wasn’t the right name--although the dream-giver wasn’t kind enough to let me know what the right name was. So, after much debate, we chose “Connor,” but it took me two years to really settle into it. Nicknames have to be considered, as well. I’m sure my parents didn’t think of the problems created by naming me something that rhymes with “coyote,” but grade-schoolers were all over it. And you have to worry about initials, too. No parent wants to saddle their kid with heinous initials, but finding something that works is a challenge. We wanted Addison’s middle name to be “Shea,” because it is a family name. However, if you have a last name that starts with “S,” Addison Shea is not going to work, right? I thought of this when I read Martha Alexander’s A, You’re Adorable. Letters are hard-core.

http://www.amazon.com/Youre-Adorable-Martha-Alexander/dp/0439071577

http://loganberrybooks.com/most-alexander.html

Size Matters

I have to laugh when people talk about how sweet and innocent children are. And not a gentle, “so true, so true” kind of laugh. A wry, derisive laugh often accompanied by some sort of grimace. It’s not that I don’t find truth in such a remark, it’s just that, as a blanket statement, I don’t find it particularly accurate. Kids (well, some kids) can be angelic and endearing, but they can also be snarky little mean machines with barracuda-like instincts. Have you ever hung around a kindergarten playground for any length of time? Better yet, have you ever been five years old yourself? It’s a jungle gym out there, with survival of the fittest reigning supreme, and you don’t want to be caught at the shallow end of the gene pool. Any perceived weakness can work against you--glasses, overweight, smart, fashion-impaired, athletically-challenged--but the thing most likely to tip the victim vs. victimizer playground scale is the evolutionarily prescribed bigger is better. Job titles and trophy wives will come into play down the road, but, in third grade, you want to be or be friends with someone who is furthest from the ground. When tennies hit asphalt, whether you get to play or eat your lunch in peace or keep your stuff is determined by a hierarchy slanted toward the big kids. In Martha Alexander’s Blackboard Bear, one little boy has to draw himself a big, furry friend to get some attention. I could make a fortune off that chalk.

http://www.amazon.com/Blackboard-Bear-Martha-Alexander/dp/0763606677

http://www.charlesbridge.com/contributorinfo.cfm?ContribID=157