Category: Humor

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Top 10 Worst Baby Names Ever

So you can’t scan the news these days without hearing about the court ordered name change of the baby named Messiah.  True story.  It just happened in Tennessee.  A couple could not agree on their new baby’s last name and opted to settle the matter in court.  Well, when the judge realized they had named their baby Messiah, she ordered that wee little one’s first name be changed to Martin.  Wow.  From Messiah to Martin.  How the mighty have fallen.

That got me to thinking, especially as Mary Tyler Dad and I are working on choosing a baby name ourselves (fingers crossed, Universe, you know, just in case you read my blog posts).  What are the worst baby names?  Funny you should ask, cause I have the list right here . . .

Top 10 Worst Baby Names Ever

10.  Messiah.  Yeah, that is a wee bit much to heap on a little one.  Messiah. Just think about that.  That would be a heavy, heavy cross to bear, pun absolutely intended.

9.  Tragedy.  It sounds cute, right?  Say it out loud.  Go ahead, I’ll wait. TRAJ-A-DEE.  It flows, has a bit of a lilt to it, sounds girlie, but not too girlie. Yeah, not so much.  Imagine the look on the poor little one’s face when she’s old enough to Google, cause no one under the age of 20 uses a dictionary anymore.  Poor thing.  Tragic, really.

8.  Allergy.  Again, this is a string of syllables that sort of roll easily off the tongue.  Allergy sounds like it could be a name, say if you grew up speaking a different language and had no clue what its actual meaning was.  The truth is, you know everyone who meets little Allergy would hate her.  “That Allergy is a bitch,” they would say.  Pass the Sudafed.

7.  Failure.  Wow.  Talk about foreshadowing.  This one is sort of along the same lines as Messiah — there is no way in freaking hell a person could ever fully live up to these names.

6.  Kardashian.  You know it’s only a matter of time before someone names their baby Kardashian, and I am pretty certain that somewhere out there is already a baby named Dash dressed in little Ed Hardy onesies.  (Oh, damn. I just Googled that and see Ed Hardy onesies really exist.  All apologies if you dress your baby in them.  Your baby is beautiful and brilliant and not at all a douche-baby.)

Ed Hardy onesie

5.  Mediocre.  So if naming your baby Messiah or Failure are too strong in the expectations department, perhaps you might opt for the safer Mediocre. This is a baby that will never rock the boat, never shine, never truly disappoint.  And all of that is okay.  Here, have a participation ribbon, Mediocre, now run along!

4.  Peanut Butter; and 3. Jelly.  Twins are not to be ignored in this list, nosiree!  The worst baby names for twins would surely be Peanut Butter and Jelly.  How sad it would be if one was always known as the sticky one and the other the sweet one.  Too unfair for words.  And come time for school, well there would always be a Peanut Butter free table and that is sure to mess with a kid’s head.  PB and Jay is kind of cute, though.  Ohmigod, I want twins just so I could name them PB and Jay.

2.  Hitler.  Don’t laugh, cause this totally happened.  Ugh, nothing like naming your precious little one — and all little ones are precious — after the most polarizing, maniacal, hate monger of the 20th century.  I’ve got nothing funny to say here.  Just shaking my head and working to imagine a world without hate.

1.  Thurgood Marshall.  Okay, I already know that Imma get publicly flogged for writing about Ed Hardy onesies and douche-babies, so why stop there?  Thurgood Marshall made this here list because ever since I have been with Mary Tyler Dad, he has talked about wanting to name our babies Thurgood Marshall.  I have nothing but love, love, love for Justice Marshall, the first African American on the Supreme Court.  Seriously, deep love and respect.  But I suspect that Mary Tyler Dad is more than joking when he offers this name as a possibility.  I think he truly wants a little Thurgood Marshall running around our home.  If I gave even one tiny iota of consideration, Mary Tyler Dad would pounce, and there I would be, all, “Thurgood Marshall, eat your Cheerios.”  “Thurgood Marshall, have you done your homework?”  “No, Thurgood Marshall, we may not have chicken nuggets for breakfast today.”  Who’s got time for all those extra syllables?

Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall.
Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall.

So there you have it — the Top 10 Worst Baby Names Ever.  And you can bet your sweet bippies that we won’t be sharing our baby’s name here. Nope, don’t wanna do it, cause surely one of you will think it is the WORST NAME EVER.  Pfffft.

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Advice from Dads

Today marks 80 years that my Dad has been on this here earth.  That is a good long time, especially considering I grew up hearing my Dad say, “Every day over 50 is gravy.”  This was a considered remark, as my Dad believed that by age 50, most folks had raised and educated their kids.  Everything on top of that is gravy, icing on the cake, whatever other food metaphor you want to use to convey the idea of a bonus.

My Dad, to this day, is one of my anchors.  I seek his advice, his opinions, his take on things that trouble me or need a sounding board.  Now that he is 80, I know that I won’t have access to his wisdom and insights for much longer.  But as my Dad would say, 30 years of gravy is a heck (he would never say hell in front of me, as he doesn’t believe men should swear in front of women or children, or that women should swear, well, ever) of a lot of gravy.

Happy birthday, Dad!  I love you like few others.  

In honor of my Dad’s 80 rotations around the sun, I encouraged the fine folks on my Facebook page to share words of wisdom from their own dads, and these little nuggets, kind readers, are what you submitted.  A couple of things jump out at me:  1) lots of dads swore way more than my own; and 2) a dad’s advice is often harsh, plain, and cuts right to the core. Nothing wrong with that.

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Playmobil Toys: Boys on Steroids, Girls on Xanax

Boys and girls are different, I get it.  That difference is biological and organic, indisputable some would say.  Since my own childhood, the gender difference between boys and girls has become a marketing bonanza.  BIG bucks, no whammies.  Exploitation City.  Pink is for girls, blue is for boys. Adventure is for boys, the old homestead is for girls.  We all know the rules and not enough of us challenge them.

The toys that we guide our children to practically require steroids for boys to reach the testosterone levels required of the fantasies they are geared towards, and these poor girls require Xanax to cope with the drearily cheerful four walls of home, which appear to be all the adventure they can handle. Sigh.

We should do better.  If girls have broken through the T-ball and soccer ceilings of play, why are they relegated to hearth and home in toy imagination settings?  Lego got slammed for introducing Lego Friends last year, play sets specifically manufactured and marketed to girls involving lots of home scenes.  Yuck.

Four year old Mary Tyler Son was introduced to Playmobil last year by his grandparents.  They are great toys that require no batteries or on and off switches.  They are simple dolls and figures set in interesting settings — zoos, oceans, prehistoric caves.  I have become a fan.  My boy can sit with a single set, just he and his imagination, and have a great time all on his own. That is some serious mom porn right there — a few minutes alone while your child plays happily on his own without a screen.

Given my fan status, I was thrilled to find a huge wall of Playmobil offerings at an independent bookshop recently.  I got all excited knowing how excited Mary Tyler Son might be to see them.  While I was scoping them out, it hit me, like a ton of bricks.  Ugh.  The dreaded pink ghetto of toys.  There, off in the corner, were a small selection of pink Playmobil boxes.  Their shelving real estate was another clue that they were less than compared to the blue boxes featured more prominently.

What the hell, Playmobil?  Really?  You, too?  You’re German — I expect more from you.  Don’t pander to marketers.  Don’t believe that a girl really wants to play in a bathroom.  Don’t enforce whack gender stereotypes on our children.  Do better.  Use your imagination.  Help a mother out and eliminate the pink ghetto of toys.

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