Here at Archives of Our Lives—a blog for the masses—our purpose is you. If you’re reading this post, it was written for you. If this website is marked in your bookmarks or favourites or sidebar or iPhone or anything else tech-y, you might as well consider it your very own website, because I am thinking solely of the readers as I type my posts.
Now I’m just repeating old stuff—you can read all about how much I value readers right here.
If you’re new to the blog, you might not be familiar with how things work. Throughout the weeks and months of writing posts and reading people’s comments, I keep a running list of questions I’ve been asked. The queries range anywhere from whether I like my mother-in-law, to what kind of camera I use, to what am I doing with my life, to why am I so lazy.
It can be interesting, and it can be boring. I try to keep things lively, but I need to have questions to answer if I’m going to keep this Thursday routine going. I still have a list of reserve questions that need to be answered, but I’m always anxious to hear more. So please feel free to ask me anything—truly, anything—and I’ll get to your question sooner or later (sooner, if I find it interesting enough).
Today’s question comes from a reader I’ve never met before.
Q, from JoannaChristine:
Even though I don’t really know you, I am from Mesa too so I feel like we could be sisters. Anyway, if your birth control did in fact, fail you unexpectedly, what would you name your baby/ies? (Not including any character from any of the Twilight series.)
A, from Me:
Hello JoannaChristine! Nice to “meet” you. I like Mesa, and I like people from Mesa, so we’ll get along splendidly.
This is a good question, actually. I do plan on having children someday, if I am able, and I have, indeed thought of what I will name my boys. (I am convinced that this world needs more good men, and there should be willing mothers to raise a generation of good boys. I’m volunteering. That’s not to say I’ll be miserable if I only have girls [I once heard a tale of an expecting mother who said she wanted only a girl, and if her baby was a boy, she’d rather send it back than raise it. I think that’s a very scary way to enter motherhood, myself, but to each her own…], nevertheless, I do think I would be able to raise a slew of outstanding boys. I get along well with boys.)
Okay, enough with the tangent. Yes, I have thought of a lot of cute boy names (and a few girl ones, too). But there’s no way I will announce them on the internet for all the world to read—do you think me daft, JoannaChristine? There are about a million of my peers who are in the motherly way right now, and all it takes is one person announcing their favourite names online, and BAM! Every kid born that year has the same name, or a randomly-spelled variation of it.
So no. I will not tell you. [Also, I don’t know why you would think I would name my kids Jasper or Edward or Bella or Carlisle. I have never really gone on about loving Twilight; in fact, though I enjoyed the books, I’ve only read each one a single time, and I still haven’t seen the movie. So I’m not NEARLY as big a fan as, say, Busy Bee Lauren… She’s the one you need to worry about!] But I will tell you the first initial of my first boy, which is only if my sister doesn’t beat me to the punch, because she’s also a huge fan of the name: P.
Another thing I’ll tell you is what I won’t name my boys:
Reginald. Sir George. Master of the Universe. Earnest Fitzgerald. Fitzwilliam Darcy (though I highly admire the character). Bo Diddly. Pumba. Dimitrius. Hugoslavia. Vladimar. Quigley. Gilligan. Squidworth. Or any initials—if I want my child to be Jon Junior, I will call him Jon Junior. If I want his name to be Jayjay, I will name him Jayjay. None of this J.J. stuff. He can make up his own initials if he wants to be an author someday.
Did that answer your question? No, not at all. But maybe it gave you an insight into my life. And when I do have a baby, I’ll announce it here first.
It will make my grandma mad, but she’ll love me anyway.