Don’t Name Your Child In A Bar: An Irish Tale

That’s right. Our daughter’s name was  decided on in a bar. Never a good idea.

It started out well enough. Our friend, of true Irish descent- with the red hair to prove it- has a typical Irish name, though it is spelled  “American style”. She wrote down on a cocktail napkin what her name would be in Gaelic, and it was what we thought a very beautiful spelling of the name. Since both of us have Irish in our family tree (really, doesn’t everyone? But seriously, we are REALLY Irish), right then and there my husband and I decided that if we ever got pregnant and had a girl, that would be her name.

And we did get pregnant and we did have a girl. I even saved the cocktail napkin on which my friend wrote the beautiful name with thoughts of framing it and telling our daughter the geneology of her name, how the beautiful spelling was Gaelic, while rocking her quietly in her glider. We would travel to Ireland when she graduated from High School and seek out our Irish ancestors. It really was a beautiful vision of how things would go in the future.

Well, I should have done my research. Turns out the background of her name is NOT Irish. Nope. All searches on the internet have turned up this name as being based in Judaism and also Aborigione in nature. Hmm. Nothing about a Gaelic heritage. Now people ask me how we came up with the spelling of her name, thinking it’s Hawaiian or, perhaps, just made up.

Not long after realizing that we would be taking our daughter to the Australian Outback or Israel instead of Ireland to show her the place where her name originated, my friend called and confessed.

“So, I may have been wrong about the spelling of my name.”

“Yeah, you think?”

“Well, I had quite a few beers that night.”

“Yep, you didn’t know how to spell your NAME.”

Did I mention that said bar was our local dive, with old gas cans as hanging lights and a good old fashioned Jaegermeister machine in the corner?

Yep.

My daughter, named after having too many beers in a dive bar.

Great bedtime story.

We still celebrate her Irish heritage (seriously, we ARE Irish!). And yes, that is a green Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle shirt, apparently the only one her Grammy could find. She refused to wear the cute green 4 leaf clover shirt I got her for the St. Pat’s Day Photo Shoot.

My Irish Girls

My Irish Girls: 2013

photo (1)

My Irish Girls: 2014

 

Have a great crazy St. Patrick’s Day!

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4 thoughts on “Don’t Name Your Child In A Bar: An Irish Tale

    • I know! The post kinda loses something when I decide to not use the kiddo’s real names….which is sort of silly seeing at 99% of people that follow me are family!

  1. Pingback: Happy Anniversary To My Crazy Little Blog! | My Special Kind of Crazy

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