A Name

A question my kids like to ask me lately is, "Why do we have names?"

I tell them that we have names so that I can say, "Hey Little Linebacker," and have Little Linebacker say, "What?" instead of me saying, "Hey You," and having all four of 'em turn on me and say, "What?"

They kind of like the idea of being called, "Hey You."

I want to ask them what their blog names should be.  I did OK with Sidekick Sister I think - it's timeless enough.  And the Little Linebacker can just move into being the Not-So-Little Linebacker.  But Captain Kindergarten has already busted out of his name and now Baby Girl is showing me she's just not anymore.

The little gal is a busy burst of fearless energy, a patience-testing, dare-deviling, laugh-maker.  She makes me crazy every day...every hour of every day...every half-hour of every day...probably every ten minutes.  She climbs tall things and falls off of them and either laughs or cries depending on whether or not she fell hard enough to leave a bruise.  Bruises get a few tears.  But nothing, no pain, means she won't do it again.  When I tell stories to the kids on their trundles before they go to sleep, Baby Girl gets on the top bed, smiles, says, "Hi there," waves her hand like a mad-woman, giggles and then plunges head first into the bed below.  When Baby Girl first started doing this my heart would stop when she crashed into the pulled-out bed.  But a Mom can be desensitized to danger if she is exposed to it enough times by one so full of laughter and with such relentless determination.

Baby Girl is done with her high chair.  She'll use a sippy cup if it's given to her, but she prefers a regular cup.  If she's hungry she gets in drawers and brings me a princess plate with a matching spoon.  She points at her sister's closet so she can put on princess dresses.  She climbs onto the sink in her bathroom and gets down her toothbrush or the hair brush and walks around the house grooming herself.  She even brought me a pony-tail holder and showed me where she wanted it in her hair that can barely be gathered into the top-of-the-head pony-tail fountain.  And when she spots something she needs she yells, "Mooommmmmmyyyyyy!" until I find her standing and pointing with a grin.

So she's not a baby anymore.  She's a big girl.  A big, wild, happy, determined, outdoor-loving, opinion-holding, sibling-tackling, food-loving, hug-giving maniac.  And I sure do love the heck out of her.

But what to call her, other than the obvious, Hey You.  I'm going to have to think on that.  Suggestions?