Sunday, March 6, 2016

That Which We Call a Rose | Reece's Rainbow

I love names. I always have.

When I was a kid, I would play Oregon Trail (90s kids, you know!) dreaming of my future family and, most pressingly, what I would name my kids.

And I needed at least twelve kids for all the super names I had.

Once, I even got my hands on my mom's baby name book. Jackpot.

Now that I am awaiting travel to meet my son, I know that naming a my own, real human is imminent. It's a pretty daunting task, if you ask me. Choosing the one thing that a person will have forever.

Some people don't spend hours thinking of the perfect name for their child, and that's great; you do you.

But I do.

Thinking of names. Researching names. Writing them out to see what it looks like in my handwriting. Calling them out, so I can feel how they roll off my tongue.

Again, I'm not claiming this is normal behavior. Just doing me.

So, after much trial and error, he has a name. And it is perfect, if you ask me.

Once I meet him, I will tell you all his name. I want him to be the first to hear it. (Nothing like a good cliffhanger, right?)

I will tell you it starts with W, and I have taken a liking to calling him Dub. Is that not the cutest??


My Dub. This face is how I feel about his name.


Do you have a favorite name? How did you choose what to call your little ones? Let me know in the comments!

Love,
Elizabeth

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