Nicknames

I always have a love/hate relationship with my kids names.  When I am pregnant I agonize over their name.  When they are born, it is still nearly impossible for me to commit.  They say you can't leave the hospital until the baby is named, but I (unfortunately) know otherwise.  The problem is, once you leave the hospital, there is no sense of urgency.  This week or next... what does it matter?  Ezra wasn't officially named until for 6 weeks.  When I finally (reluctantly) "decide", I proceed to be wishy-washy about it for the following year.  I question it often, wondering when it becomes too late to change it.  Thankfully after about the one year mark I finally make peace with the name and come to genuinely love it and feel that it is a perfect name for them.

Naming kids is not something I enjoy - and I have even been known to say, "I would rather go through labour than name a child" to many people.  WHAT?!? I know.  Crazy.  But there are so many factors to consider: like their initials, how it sounds, what it means, how it goes with the other kids names, potential emotional damaging nicknames, fun nicknames, which name is first and middle, and do I really want to use the name that I LOVE as a middle name?  Isn't that just wasting it?  It causes me a great deal of stress.  Thankfully I am married to a man that has only adamantly contributed one name to our progeny and that I haven't loved and it was for Oliver's middle name, Euan.  (On that note, Euan??!??  Paul shares the same birthday and year as Ewan McGregor and consequently (secretly) feels connected and thus named our 2nd born's middle name after him.  (Paul will just as adamantly deny this).  I happen to share death day with Elvis Presley (he died the same day and year I was born) and I have yet to insist we name one of our kids Elvis.  But I wanted to have Oliver's middle name to be after our real estate agent, Mac, but Paul refused me on that ground alone.  But really - Oliver Mac Russell...  seriously - coolest. name. ever.  As it is, I love Paul, and so Oliver's middle name is Euan.  I have told Paul that if he ever dies, I am changing it on the way home from the funeral.)

When it came time for Eloise to be born I really was torn between Margaret and Eloise.  I loved both names so much!  I loved Margaret Eloise Russell.  But Eloise Margaret Russell sounded really lovely too.  In the end, Eloise won out because it was a little less common, and I loved how Charlotte and Eloise fit together.  So it was decided.  Ish.

The problem I am finding out is that everything rhymes with Eloise-e.  Not at first glance, mind you, but we somehow make it work.  Like when she has a cold, we call her Ela-sneezy.  When she has raspy breathing, Ela-wheezy.  When she has a poopy bum, it's Smelloise.  Easy-Breezy-Eloise-e has become one we use most often, and that has evolved to "Breezers".  (Breezers??  That is right up there as bad as Ezra's nickname which is Snoogs.)  But today, as she was hanging out with her cousin Axsel, slapping his newly buzzed, spiky head and using her mighty 23 pound girth to push the standup toy that he was hanging onto for dear life around the kitchen and in a panic with every inch she moved it, the nickname has evolved once again from "Breezers" to "Bruiser."  It really doesn't help that "Eloise" means hale and hearty.  No joke.  

Oh oh.  I think it may be time to switch to Margaret.