Friday, February 28, 2014

Sorry, Kid, You're Stuck With It

Another mom blogger recently wrote about the reasons behind her kids' names...and asked for suggestions for their pool since they're nearing the arrival of another sweet babe and are self-proclaimed 'last-minute namers.'

Her post made me realize that I've never really written about the inspiration (or lack thereof) behind the names we chose for our children. Reflecting back also made me giggle as I recalled some of the names that were in the running at different points but didn't make the final cut. So here's the official behind-the-scenes!

"Style:"
We were both drawn to more traditional names from the start--that is, names that most people have heard of before. But during deliberation we've both suggested our fair share of unique names too. Our name choices have been influenced by different things; our faith, family names and lineage, and cultural preferences. Our last name also made a difference in selecting names. We have a doozy of a Norwegian last name, what with its silent 'j' and ability to stump the most eloquent of linguists. So it was important for us to choose first names that visually and aurally balanced out the craziness of our last name. We also wanted names that couldn't be shortened into nicknames we disliked, and names that weren't all the rage (I ended up being one of seven Megans in a single high school class at one point, and we wanted our kids to avoid that fate if possible).

Philosophy on the peanut gallery:
We never shared any of our kids' names with anyone--family, friends, or strangers who asked--while we were in the decision-making process. We knew everyone would have an opinion and the decision needed to be a personal one between the two of us. We didn't know the gender of our first two children before they were born, so it was easy enough to keep it a secret and then introduce them with their full name that was actually on the birth certificate. With our youngest, when we found out his gender at the 20 week ultrasound, we shared it by introducing him by name to everyone so they would know that we had already finalized it and wouldn't need any suggestions.

And now for all the fun facts!

My name: My parents named me Megan Christina, but Shannon was the front-runner until a neighbor down the street gave the name to her daughter. So I could've been a Shannon, y'all! And for awhile when I was little, I did like to pretend that it was my name. Thankfully, that phase passed.

My husband's name: Peter Christian. His older brother is Andrew, so they're Peter and Andrew after two of Jesus's apostles who were brothers. His parents considered using the Norwegian spelling of Peder, but decided to Americanize it. I think they made the right call!

Our Kiddos



First Pregnancy

Contenders: Dashiell, Zack, Eliana
Final cut: Jack, Marie Jaqueline

Technically Zack and Eliana were never real contenders. But I distinctly remember discussing hypothetical names during a beach vacation with my family when I was engaged and writing favorite names in the sand while gushing about it with my mom and sister. I had always wanted to name a girl named Eliana, for no other reason than thinking it was pretty and unique when a friend of a friend chose the name for their daughter--at the time I had never heard it before. Of course I know dozens of Elianas now.  I also remember saying that I liked the name Zack. Peter nixed Eliana on first mention because it 'sounded Italian' and 'totally didn't go with Hjelmstad,' and he just didn't like Zack.

When newly married a few years later during the long drive home to see family for Thanksgiving, we discussed names again jokingly as a way to pass the time. We were coming up with the most comical and outlandish names possible at first, but by the end of our drive we'd inadvertently decided on two boy names and two girl names. And by the time we got back to our house after Thanksgiving, we realized that there really was a new Hjelmstad who we would likely be giving one of those names--it wasn't just a hypothetical game anymore!

I was convinced I was having a boy, even though the ultrasound didn't reveal anything because the baby's legs were strategically crossed, but we were smart enough to pick out names for both a boy and a girl.

For a boy, we entertained the name Dashiell for a bit (pronounced DASH-uhl, its origin being a French surname) with the plan of calling him "Dash" for short. But we didn't like the full spelling of the name, and realized that we might be forever sentencing our son to a life of mockery with the nickname Dash, even though it seemed cool at the time. So we gave that one up and ultimately decided on Jack as the front-runner. My dad's father was named Jack Dempsey, and though I never got to meet him, his reputation preceded him as a quiet but incredible gentleman with a mischievous streak. My dad definitely takes after him, and he's one of the greatest role models I know. So Jack seemed like a good fit.

For a girl, we both liked the significance of the name Mary based on the fact that it was traditional, recognizable, and special faith-wise. But we also wanted a name that felt a little more unique to us. I was (am) also a wannabe Frenchie and former French major, so we settled on Marie--the French version of Mary that still sounded American enough, and also the middle name of my grandmother, mother, and sister. It's one of the most common American middle names for girls, but it's fairly uncommon as a first name. It took us awhile longer to decide upon a middle name that sounded like it worked. Peter suggested the name Jacqueline (pronounced "jack-LEEN" with a soft j), and the wannabe Frenchie in me immediately agreed.

We wrote it a few different ways because we didn't want people to pronounce it incorrectly as "Jack'-lin," and ultimately decided to spell it as Jaqueline without the 'c.' Not so crazy about that decision in retrospect, but hey, at least it's only a middle name.



Second Pregnancy

Contenders: None
Final Cut: Erik Anthony, Kate Victoria

Once again, we didn't know until our little buddy was born whether we would have a boy or girl, so we prepared ourselves with boy and girl names.

I don't remember why, but neither of us were that interested in the name Jack anymore for a boy. We agreed on Erik--pretty much because it was about the only name we both agreed on--and spelled it with a 'k' to go with the Viking/Norwegian theme of our last name. Peter's mom still likes to call him Erik the Red because of his nice red face as a newborn. We chose the middle name Anthony because it was a family name: both Peter's dad and my mom's dad are Anthony.

For a girl, we agreed on Kate, even though I was still a little iffy about it. Peter lobbied hard for the middle name Victoria, which I was never that crazy about. Note that this was before the whole Will & Kate craze, so I'm glad we didn't have to subject a girl to that association, and was especially happy that we got to use our boy's name that we both liked mutually!



Third & Fourth Pregnancies
Though they were very short pregnancies, we did assign some symbolic names to our little saints so we can more easily refer to them. They aren't really names we would have ever used for a baby we could see or hold, but they are meaningful to us just the same, and fit our little saints perfectly.




Fifth Pregnancy

Contenders: Jude, Leif, Owen, Leila
Final Cut: Ethan Henry

Our littlest buddy was the only one whose gender we knew before he was born, but we still had about 15 weeks before the ultrasound for some animated name bantering. And heavens was there some banter this time around!

For a boy:
Peter kept floating the name Leif, which I adamantly shot down, because Norwegian name or not, I said I refused to have any son of ours named after a tree. I kept floating the name Jude, at the very least as a middle name, but Peter kept shooting that down because he doesn't like it. I still maintain that Jude would've been the perfect name for him because of the incredible significance behind my miracle pregnancy and due date (which was our son's actual birth date). I didn't push for it as a middle name simply because we both wanted to continue the trend of using a grandfather's first name (i.e. my dad) for our son's middle name. So my dad's first name, Henry, became Ethan's middle name, and Ethan won out for the first name because we both liked it more than Leif...or Jude, respectively.

The name Owen was runner up--I liked it, but not as much as Ethan. But the worst part about the whole name happened directly after the ultrasound. We'd decided on the name Ethan months before, and prayed every night with the older kids at bedtime prayers for "Ethan or [insert potential girl's name]." The day of the ultrasound, Peter and I met at the clinic, saw our beautiful, healthy, little boy, then stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for a quick celebratory bagel with cream cheese--what Ethan was craving at the time--before parting ways and returning to work. As I pulled into the parking lot, I got a text from him (wish I would've saved it!) saying: "So are you sure that you don't want to name him Owen?" My response: "Please tell me you're kidding." Him: "Not really..." I still won't let him live it down. Needless to say, having decided weeks before and telling his older siblings already, I determined that Ethan would, indeed, be his name! For the record, we did not intentionally choose another "E name" so the boys could match. Just coincidence, and not anything we will feel bound to continue in the future!

For a girl:
We struggled with a girl's name for weeks until just before the ultrasound, and I was actually hoping it was a boy because we didn't have a good girl's name (a whole list of pseudo-possibilities, of which Leila was the strongest contender, but it was a little too close to Princess Leia's name for comfort). But then we stumbled on what I still believe is a truly perfect girl's name for us, so I switched gears and was hoping we were having a girl because I was just so in love with the name we chose. We still love it, and didn't share it even after finding out that Ethan was a boy, just in case we ever have the privilege of naming another girl in the future. Also, if we ever get to name another son, I'm still convinced that we might be able to wear Peter down and vie for a Jude!

So there you have it--the reasoning that went into the names our kids are stuck with forever. Or at least until they're 18. But changing it is a lot of headache and paperwork to go through. I would know--just ask me...and the people who spelled "Hjelmstad" wrong on our marriage certificate!

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Surprise! [Surprise!]


Surprise....

The week before last, Peter turned the big three-oh. In typical Tuesday fashion, he had to work all day and then head straight to class till late in the evening on his actual birthday (with little chance of even seeing the kids). So we had a hasty celebration Monday night before the kids' bedtime with a little cake and a few presents.


The big "gift" was a joint 30th Birthday-Valentine's Day trip ski trip to Vail. Which was fabulous, I might add.




But 30 is a pretty big deal (at least the biggest we'll see for the next decade), and I couldn't just leave it at that. So I schemed up a good ole' fashioned surprise party.

Peter's mom put together this awesome photo
album for his birthday!
Contacting Peter's friends proved a bit of a challenge; I looked up one of Peter's friends from grad school who I knew was on Facebook, and asked him to send a bat signal out to the rest of the grad school friends. When talking to Peter, I casually tried to work in questions about the people at work and in his army reserve unit to find out the name of another good friend, because I'm horrible with names. Then hacked into his email to try and find corresponding email addresses. My shining moment was digging through his army briefcase to find his unit alert roster (contact list with personal info) because I knew if nothing else, it should have the info I needed. Perks of having been in the army, I suppose.

To get him out of the house, I had the big kids give him "dad-kid date movie tickets" as a gift on his actual birthday...so that he would take them to the movies on the day of the surprise party and I would have my husband and two chatty kids out of the way (I didn't trust them for a second to keep the secret). I was pretty proud of myself for that one. While they were at the theater watching Frozen, I was busy running around with Ethan: ordering the food, picking up the cake, cluelessly wandering around the liquor store with my toddler lunging at alcoholic goodies until I  gave up and asked where I could find the largest bottled pack of Peter's favorite beer, and preparing games for our Minute to Win It theme. Peter had always wanted to do a Minute to Win It game night so I thought this was the perfect chance!





And finally, after a month of scheming and sleuthing, we pulled it off!



The games were a hit...




"In Your Face" - in which you have 60
seconds to get a cookie from your
forehead down to the hatch...
no hands allowed.

The cake was awesome...



It's not a real party until
you eat your head.

...and it was a really fun night just hanging out with friends and staying up way past our "old person" bedtime. 




It'll likely be the only surprise party I ever get to throw for Peter since he's way too good at catching onto things and likes to be the one behind the surprises. So I'm glad we made it happen for his 30th, and that it was as well-received as it was deserved!


-----      -----      -----


...and SURPRISE!!!

Speaking of...

The night before the party, I got a small shock of my own.

After another long week of busy schedules and school and not seeing each other, we finally got some time to crash on the couch, catch up on all the important stuff we're too tired to discuss during the week, and watch some Olympics and Downton Abbey.

Right before bed, I went to plug in my dying phone and saw this sitting on my computer:


Background: in a few short weeks here, Peter will earn his long-awaited MBA after two greuling years of going to grad school at night while holding down a full-time day job plus a weekend Army Reserves gig.

So what did he do? Write me this super-thoughtful thank-you note about all the sacrifices on my end (while he was the one to do all the work), which made me cry, of course...

Thanking me for "160 hubby-less nights,
hundreds and hundreds of study hours, and
unpredictable schedules" among other things,
ending with "here's your reward!"
 ...and then he surprised me with THIS folded up inside, which I thought at first glance was just a continuation of his long list of thank-yous, or at best a coupon for a massage or something.


Nope. Not a massage. He's just whisking me away for a little getaway to Coronado Beach is all.

The best part is that his parents knew about both the party and the trip, and got to keep the secret from both of us; they proved to be fabulous secret-keepers--just like Mrs. Hughes, for all you Downton fans out there.

Clearly we were both having way too much fun plotting for our weekend full of surprises--we certainly are made for each other, aren't we?!