Naming Andy!

Naming another human being is a task that should not be taken lightly. Whatever you name your child is the name that they are stuck with through all of their formative years. In my opinion, the more unique you try to go, the more likely you are to be leaving work early in seven years to go pick up your son who was punched repeatedly on the playground during lunch because someone (you) thought it was a good idea to name him "Gaylord." It wasn't. You screwed up. And that shiner on your kid's eye, that's on you.

It seems that girls get a lot more leeway with the unique names than boys do. You can name your daughter "Honeysuckle," and maybe she'll make it out of junior high with only a minor case of anorexia. It'll help if she's super pretty and well liked because of the shininess of her hair and eyes. Kids can be so shallow. But your son Pigeon Nugget is not going to be so lucky. Pigeon Nugget's going to get it pretty good, and he's going to be so pissed off at you not only for naming him Pigeon Nugget (Really, Mom???!!) but for also sending him to school with what he's pretty sure is not a backpack but a diaper bag.

I took the task of naming Andy (Andrew) pretty seriously. However, that being said, it has not escaped me that many television doofuses are called "Andy." Even with this discovery of similarly named TV morons, I've noticed that all of the doofy Andy's are also extremely lovable. For instance, who doesn't like Andy Bernard from "The Office?" He's a goofball (loves frisbee golf, frolf), but is also one of the show's most endearing characters. There's also "Parks and Recreation's" Andy Dwyer. Totally dim-witted, but hilarious, has his own band, and there's something about him that you just can't help but like. And, let's not forget Andy Botwin from "Weeds." Andy is a bit of a slacker but has some of the best lines on the show. Plus, he's kind of hot, in his own funny, unemployable way.

In spite of, or because of, the television Andy's, I thought Andy was a pretty great nickname because it was cute. When I was pregnant and imagined a little boy named Andy, he was a happy-go-lucky rascal with a winning smile and a penchant for sharing his graham crackers. While Andy is still working on sharing, he does have one of the world's best smiles, as judged by me, his mother.

Andrew, his actual name, could go far in the professional world. Andrew is a decent name for a president (Andrew Jackson, anyone?), a novelist (Andrew's chapter on the young character, Pigeon Nugget, and his battle with being punched daily, was pure poetry), or even a motivational speaker (I'm Andrew, and I'm here today to talk about unleashing your inner man-diva.). Andrew is a solid name. No one's ever going to hit him because of his name. He might get hit because he hit someone first or because he tried to climb onto someone's lap while they were on the toilet (I hope he grows out of that soon), but he certainly won't get hit for being Andrew.

Chris and I both agreed on the name Andrew, too, but only in the week before Andy was born. I was pretty set on the name as soon as I found out I was having a boy, but Chris fought me on it and instead offered up a slew of stinky names as rebuttal. The worst name (and I apologize in advance if this is YOUR name) was "Linus." Linus, like the thumb-sucking kid with the blankie from Peanuts. Linus, which is a name that rhymes with sinus. And- not sure if this is a real word- vaginus.

Chris didn't like the name because he was afraid that Andrew would be called "Drew," a nickname he didn't like probably because of some fat-headed football player from his high school days. "We don't have to call him Drew," I stressed to Chris over and over again, pushing out my big fat belly as to seem more pitiable. "He'll be Andrew and Andy. Unless .... he chooses to be a Drew."

Because I'm the mom and because I always get my way, Chris finally agreed on the name, and seven days and ten stitches later, we had our Andrew. Little, wrinkley, squinty-eyed Andrew. Even Chris had to admit that the name was perfect. Mostly because the baby was perfect.

His middle name is Jacob, which I am constantly forgetting. We gave little to no thought to Andy's middle name.

The best part of having an Andrew is all of the wordplay. I didn't even consider all the fun things I could do with the name Andy / Andrew until after he was born and I started talking to him. Here's a sample of what I'm talking about.

"Who's my favorite little Man-drew??"

"What's the plan-drew, Andrew?"

"Look! You're standing! You're Stand-rew!"

"After his bath, Andrew is like Brandnew!"

And, the limerick,

"There once was a baby named Andy
Who thought things were fine and dandy.
He went to the zoo
Said, 'How do you do!?'
And decided to go pet a pandy."

A pandy is a panda, in this instance.

All in all, I have to say I'm pretty pleased with Andy's name. I think it fits him- he's lovable but serious, and the options of rhyming with his name are pretty limitless. (This last statement is not true- there's definitely a limit.) But, I took a serious, thoughtful approach to naming my child, and I've never once regretted it. Hopefully, once Andy starts getting out in the world and using his name- "Hi, I'm Andy, and I like bananas. Do you like bananas, too?"- he'll agree that I did a decent job. If not, he can just change it after he turns eighteen.

It would be somewhat of a slap in the face, though, if he were to choose "Linus."