Tag Archives: Erica

Let the baby-naming wars begin

My sister Heidi and her husband Mike, as the first bearers of the next generation in both families, get their pick of baby names. They have chosen the gosh darn best name ever for the Bun—good work, kids. Meanwhile, my sister Erica and I are stewing over the fact that there is 1 less awesome name to choose from for our future progeny, especially since we all seem to be going (or wanting to go) the biblical route. Stewing, I tell you! Well, at least we stewed together once–and Erica may well have recovered since then. And did we actually have this conversation I seem to remember . . . or am I making it up? Why is it so hard to remember any specifics all of a sudden? Did I dream this? It this an early onset of Alzheimers? Have I ever really talked to Erica before?? Am I losing my mind!?

Excuse me while I hop off the train tracks that lead to insanity and return to the mental forest of peace and little furry animals. Ommmmm . . . ommmmmm . . . ommmmm . . . Yes, I am taking you on a blogging journey through my brain, and I can only hope there are no casualties.

But moving on! The only thing I dislike about the biblical path is that there aren’t as many fantastic girl names to choose from as one might like, especially since I’m nixing Rahab up front. Great woman, but folks—she did start things off as a prostitute. And while I personally don’t hold that against her (and in fact greatly admire the woman), I sense that this child’s classmates, despite their general lack of biblical knowledge, would quickly zero in on the book of Joshua, discover this little tidbit, and use it to little Rahab’s detriment on the playground. And being called a “prostitute” . . . well, it’s no girl’s idea of a good time.

Ever since my sisters and I were little, the subject of baby names has been a favorite and controversial topic. At various points in my youth I wanted to name my children (who would inevitably be girls) “Tzeitel” (from Fiddler on the Roof) and “Anemone” (as in the plant thingy that grows in the ocean–or is it an animal? You never know with those weird tubular looking things). “Moonbeam” and “Starlight” were probably right up there for me as well. Heidi favored the name “Lilypad” (note to concerned family members: not a name in the running for The Bun–but only ’cause it ain’t biblical). However, Erica set me straight when she recommended the following names for my future children: Poofball and Explosivo.

You know, looking at Erica’s baby pictures, I think this one could have been called Poofball:

Poofball primping in the bathtub.

And this one could have easily been named Explosivo:

Explosivo sporting her first pair of high heels.

One summer many years ago, Erica and I sat down with a baby name book and garnered some brilliant ideas. I recently rediscovered the piece of paper on which we wrote them all down–interestingly enough, it was stuffed between the pages of a hefty hardcover Bible that I have long forsaken in favor of my smaller, purple, purse-friendly TNIV (or as I like to call it, my ‘Tiny NIV’). Does that mean something? Something about the authority of Scripture over the children we had planned all these names for? Something about naming your child Amos after the prophet and not Gewürztraminer after your favorite wine? Is it a sign?

I think it just means I didn’t want the list to get wrinkled in my purse, but you can never be too sure.

Anyway, the names on the list that follows were our absolute favorites, and I just know Erica and Dave will draw from this reserve to name their football-team posse of kiddos. I will put the meanings of these marvelous names to the right.

Carny Bertie                                   Happy winning

Nutan Odelette                             Heart melodic

Pabiola Dajón                                Small gifted girl

Eppy Snooks                                  Lively, always “on”

Smiley Gobnat                              Gobnat means “cuddly”

Dempsey Benedicta                    Respected and blessed

In a fit of inspiration, we added two gratuitous made-up names to the list which might just top the charts. I have added my personal interpretation of their meanings:

Kodak Klarkokardiac                  Photographic heart attack

Gladiola Laudiola                         Applauded garden flower

It’ll be hard to narrow it down, but personally, I’m thinking of going with “Smiley Gobnat”. I’ve always wanted a smiling, cuddly-faced child. Plus, we can call him “Gob” for short. Or her! I think “Gob” would work well for either gender. All I can say is, it’s a mad rush to snatch up the top baby names. A mad rush, I tell you.

These two munchkins could very well have been named Eppy Snooks and Nutan Odelette. . . though Eppy is not looking very “on”. I was probably grumpy because Erica got the cute little bear suit.

Yes, it’s taken me years to get over coveting that bear suit.

Photo shoot on the dock, part 2

Welcome to the dock photo shoot part 2! (click here for part 1) For today, the pictures of my cousins’ wives Steph and Kelsey.

Here is Kelsey (Luke’s wife):

And here is Steph (Steve’s wife):

My sister Erica did snatch the camera out of my hands at one point, and I know that many of these are her shots. Perhaps even most of them. So props to her for a good eye! I can’t remember which are hers and which are mine, but no one’s counting, right? Erica? Erica? OK.

I know for sure that Erica snapped this one with Steve in the background. Love it.

Since processing the pictures of Erica in yesterday’s post, I’ve been working on my black and white skills in Photoshop. I’m definitely not where I want to be yet, but I’ve learned a couple tricks–my favorite is the one of Steph (second black and white down.) Something about the exposure and contrast just works for me. The ones of Kelsey could use a little more ‘oomph.’ I sense that I need to play more with ‘levels’ and ‘selective color.’ I’m sorry that you have to be part of my learning curve, Kelsey. I’ll do better next year.

These ladies are so beautiful, I’m telling you.

I also messed some with their eyes in the two pictures above–could you tell? Sometimes I can get a little too enthusiastic about my small stash of Photoshop tricks, and I need to watch myself carefully so that I don’t overdo it and turn my subjects into some kind of blazing-eyed, high contrast freak show.

I love these next two . . . they just make me laugh. For some reason they’re an illustration of how perfect of a match Steph is for Steve.

While I’m at it, I should say that pictures were also taken of me by my loving sister. The problem is . . . I have very sensitive eyes. The light was reflecting off the water, and it was too strong for me. Like a shot of tequila right in the eyeball, I’d say.

Half the pictures are me crying, with red, squinting eyes. Yep, more tequila-like effects taking place.

In the other half of the pictures, my eyes are closed or looking down. I can’t help it. It probably has something to do with being so pale–I sense there’s a link.

I actually liked the picture above . . . until my husband looked at it and said “what’s wrong with your neck???” Something about the line of the shadow and the creases at the side made it look alienesque, like it’s a too-large head that got attached to a tiny shriveled neck. Did the rest of you recoil in horror, or like me, not notice it until someone pointed it out?

If I overexpose it and turn it blue does that help at all? Does it blot out the weirdness? Or does it just add to the “alien” factor?

I’ve completely lost perspective.

And to end with, the mast of the sailboat inspired some of us to, um . . . pose, I guess you could call it.

I’ve always secretly wanted to learn to pole dance, and it seemed like the most marvelous opportunity. Simply mahvelous.

Moral objections to pole dancing aside, it gave my back a great stretch. A great, crackity-cracking, painful stretch. My spine will never be the same again.

Oh, and I didn’t actually pole dance. More like I contorted myself a little and then busted my gut laughing. And then fell on my back and just lay there helplessly as I cracked myself up. It wasn’t pretty, and you should be glad you weren’t there. I may have even snorted.

But the best shot of all (which I purposely saved for the end) is this artistic, wonderful shot of my cousin Steve. Please try not to cry–it’s so moving.

Good work, Steve. I give you an A + + +.

I leave you all with a shot of the lake itself.

This picture is like an injection of peace straight into the veins. Mmmmm.