Arleigh

My first thought:  What’s a six-year-old doing in a nursing home?  The name seemed strangely anachronistic, more akin to the Hayleighs and Carlees of today than the Dorothys and Helens of her generation.  Were her parents 80 years ahead of their time, I wondered.  Had they just invented something that sounded cute to them?  Or was this a legitimate name with a century-old history of use?

The U.S. Social Security website shows that Arleigh has not been ranked in the top 1000 names any time during the last 130 years.  However, the spelling Arlie ranked for females almost every year between 1883 and 1922.  What may be more surprising to us is that Arlie was even more popular for males — it ranked in the top 1000 from 1880 until 1962, peaking at #369 in 1904.  (This is not such a surprise, however, when we remember that Shirley and Ashley were once almost exclusively masculine.)

The 1910 U.S. Census shows over 6,000 Arlies, over 2,000 Arleys, and almost 500 Arleighs.  (Granted, you were about 50 times as likely to run into an Arthur as an Arlie, but the name was still in use.)  Men made up 65% of the Arlies, 84% of the Arleys, and overwhelming 89% of the Arleighs.  This is strange to my modern eyes, as “-leigh” spellings are now seen as almost exclusively feminine. The SSA data for 2009 shows 11 girls’ names spelled with the “-leigh” sequence (e.g., Ryleigh, Ashleigh, Hayleigh) and zero boys’ names.  Any mother considering calling her son Ryleigh today would be told that spelling looked too girly — well, that was certainly not the case 100 years ago.

The most reliable name sites give the meaning of Arlie as “eagle wood.”  (A few sites consider it a variation of Harley and give the definition as “hare clearing” or “rabbit meadow.)  This puts Arlie in the category of Old-English-place-name-surnames-turned-given-names, with the likes of Riley, Ashley, Wesley, Preston, Dalton, Landon, and Hayley — all of which are quite fashionable today.

Arlie makes an interesting alternative for modern parents, as it is one surname-name that has yet to be discovered.  Only two currently-living Arlies have been important enough to make Wikipedia — one is a female sociology professor at UC Berkeley, and the other is a male state representative in North Carolina.  The meaning especially might appeal to patriotic parents in the U.S., as the bald eagle is our national symbol.

My main hesitation with this one is that it sounds somewhat incomplete — like Harley or Carly with the front end lopped off.  But if your husband wants to name the baby Harley and you are adamant that your daughter will NOT be named after a motorcycle, Arleigh might be a workable alternative.  Or if you are one who laments the fact that it’s no longer advisable to name a son Ashley, then Arley could be an interesting choice.  Though it may still sound feminine to some, it hasn’t even been discovered by girls’ parents, much less stolen completely — your little masculine Arley will be the only Arley anyone knows.

So what do you think?  Would you be in favor of Arlie on a child today?  And which gender?

Julius Arthur as a newborn

On January 9, 2010, my husband and I had our first son.  Now, my husband and I had had a girls’ name picked out since before we were married.  And we had spent months discussing boys’ names, but we had been unable to decide on our favorite.  We had a list of about ten that were tolerable, but the ones I loved my husband only liked and the ones he loved I only liked.  In an effort to delay the decision-making, I suggested to my husband that perhaps we should wait to see what the baby looked like.  I hoped that once we met him, he would make known to us what his name should be.  I’d heard lots of parents who said this was the case, so it seemed to me like a reasonable way to go about things.  My husband agreed, but he insisted that we narrow our list to just three favorites before heading to the hospital.  The three we decided we liked best were Julius, Elliot, and Wesley.

I went into labor on the morning January 7, three days after my due date.  I was expecting a somewhat long labor, as I knew the baby was face up, and I was also expecting I would probably have painful back labor.  We were hoping to be able to have the baby naturally, without any kind of medication, as we thought that would be safest for the baby and for me.

However, after 48 hours of unmedicated back labor followed by nine hours of Pitocin-augmented labor had failed to produce anything close to the desired result, we decided that a Cesarean section would probably be the safest course of action for the baby.

Fortunately, this was not considered an emergency C-section since the baby’s life was not in immediate danger, so the anesthesiologist had plenty of time to prep me and my husband was able to be in the operating room with me.  The C-section went smoothly, and I heard the baby cry as soon as he was taken out.  But (and some doctors theorize this happens when an infant’s first cry is too strong) unfortunately he developed a collapsed lung immediately after birth and had to be taken to the NICU before I’d had a chance to hold him.  The nurses briefly held the baby up from across the room for me to see (I remember thinking that he was big and kind of greyish but otherwise healthy looking), and then he and my husband were rushed off to the NICU.

My husband came back a little while later while I was in recovery.  I remember one of the first things he said to me was, “So what do you think he looks like?  I think he’s an Elliot.”  Now I had imagined that after our baby was born, we would both have a chance to hold him.  And after a few hours of bonding with him, we’d look at each other and say simultaneously, “I think he’s a ____________ .”  This seemed patently unfair to me that before I’d had a chance to really even see the baby, my husband was already telling me what name he thought fit best.

An hour or so later, the nurses wheeled my hospital bed into the NICU so I could meet our little one.  I had been afraid that if my baby was taken away from me before I’d had a chance to inspect him, I could never be sure that he was my own.  Well, as soon as I saw him, I knew he was our kid.  He looked enough like us that there were no doubts about that.  But he looked very different from what I’d imagined.  He was big and broad-chested with a wrinkly, wise-looking face and dark dark hair.  And he was way cuter than I thought our kid would be.  But the problem was he didn’t look like a Julius, an Elliot, or a Wesley.  He looked like a Malcolm.  Now, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the name Malcolm.  It’s a very handsome Scottish sort of name.  But it’s not what I wanted to name my kid.  He also looked sort of like a Michael or Christopher, but I didn’t spend months deliberating between uncommon name choices only to end up with something so usual.  (I’ve since realized it’s easier for babies to look like common names — I’ve known plenty of babies called Christopher, but I’d never met one called Julius before.)

Our little one had to spend two days in the NICU for monitoring.  During that time, I was frequently with him for feedings, but I didn’t feel I was getting a chance to bond with him and get to know who he was.  My husband was eager to pick a name — apparently the relatives were pestering him and he felt silly every time he said we still had not decided on a name for our son.  But after such a long ordeal, I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained, and the last thing I was in the mood to do was make such an important decision.  I reasoned to myself that if all three names were acceptable to me, and if I was too exhausted to make the decision, I should just let my husband pick the one he liked best.  I said we could call him Elliot but that I wanted us to try it out for a day or so before making it official.  We wrote Elliot Arthur on the birth certificate application, but we decided we wouldn’t turn it in until the next day (when we were scheduled to leave the hospital).  So the third day after his birth, our son was introduced to family and to the nursing staff as “probably Elliot.”

We tried it out for a full day, but it just wasn’t working for me.  The “t” at the end was too hard to say — it didn’t really flow out of my mouth the way I wanted his name to.  And I wasn’t happy with any of the nickname options.  We had discussed calling him Lio, but it seemed just a little too grown up for our tiny little guy.  I eventually resorted to calling him Baby Ellie, which I knew was a very bad idea.

On the fourth day after his birth, the day were were supposed to leave the hospital, I came out of the shower in tears and told my husband that the name Elliot just didn’t seem right for him.  My husband confessed that, while he liked the name a lot, it wasn’t really working for him, either.  (To this day, I still don’t know if that was the truth or if my husband felt obligated to agree with the upset hormonal lady.)

We went through our list of possible names again, but none was standing out as the right one.  We wondered what it is that is supposed to make one name feel “right” — were we looking for some sort of sign?  I brought up the possibility of taking our son home unnamed, but my husband insisted we pick something that day.  We ultimately decided that if we needed a sign, perhaps we had gotten three:

• The baby had been born by Cesarean section, so perhaps it was fitting (cheesy?  fitting?  cheesy?) to name him after the one legend designates as the original Cesarean birth.  We would not have considered this reason if we weren’t already in love with the name Julius, but maybe we could take that as a sign.
• Hanging on a closet door in the hospital room was a sleeper with Paul Frank’s Julius monkey on it.  Some friends had brought it by the hospital as a baby gift.  They did not know what names we were considering; they had simply seen the sleeper on sale at TJ Maxx and thought it was cute.
• And this last one I probably shouldn’t be sharing, but I’ll just say that one of the nicknames for the name Julius means something in another language that has something to do with his conception.  We figured if we were going to use the name Julius for any of our kids, maybe that was a sign that it should be for this one.  And, no, we don’t plan on telling him this — ever.

And that’s how our son became Julius Arthur.  It still took about three months before I was convinced we had picked the right name.  I’ve learned from this experience that, while the idea of naming a baby at the hospital may work for some people, it does not work for me.  When the time comes for baby #2, we plan to have the name chosen well before the baby is due.

Our little one

My husband and I are very excited!  He has been wanting our firstborn to be a son all along.  As a big brother himself, he tends to feel that role is very important.  I’ve been going back and forth, but lately I’ve been wanting to decorate the nursery in trains, and now it looks like I’ll get to.

Of course, this means we still have a long road ahead of us in terms of naming.  You see, we had pretty much settled on a girls’ name.  If it were a she, she would probably have been Clara Joy Anneliese.  We’d even jokingly come up with a hermaphrodite name, in case our child were to be born with both parts and we wanted him-her to make the decision later on.  He-she would have been Elliot Joyce.   (I know Joyce might not be ideal as a boys’ name anymore, but we want to use family middles, and it’s the only family name that even comes close to sounding decent on both genders.  Because you really can’t have a boy named Ruth or a girl named Steve.)

But our little one is clearly all boy, at least judging from the pictures the sonographer showed us.  And boys’ names are tough, at least for me. We’ve yet to find one that sounds like “the one.”  For those who are curious, here’s the current list of names that have been suggested by either me or my husband and not flat-out vetoed by either one of us.  Current favorites (of mine or his) are closer to the top:

• Julius
• Jeremy
• Elliot
• Wesley
• Henry
• Edward / Edmond
• Frederick
• Franklin
• Simon / Simeon
• Kenneth
• Miles / Milo
• Alasdair
• Oliver
• Caleb
• Duncan
• Callum
• Lachlan

As I mentioned, we’ve agreed to use family middles.  We’ve narrowed the list down to these five, and once we pick the first name, we’ll choose the middle that sounds best with it:

• Arthur:  This was the middle name of my father and my husband’s grandpa, and I love that it honors both sides of the family at once.
• Daniel:  Another two-for-one choice.  My husband is Brian Daniel and my grandpa was John Daniel, though he always went by Dan instead of John.
• Benjamin:  My husband’s dad is Ben… just Ben.  We’d use the longer form in honor of him.
• Bennett:  A less expected way of honoring Ben.
• William:  After my husband’s favorite grandfather, Wilbert Arthur.  Wilbert is just a bit too dorky now-a-days, but I think William makes a fine adaptation.

The good thing about not having settled on a boys’ name yet is that we still have several months of naming fun ahead of us!  As always, any comments or suggestions are appreciated.

Tulliver.

Those who have heard it before will most likely recognize it as the surname of the main character in George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss. The novel tells the story of Maggie Tulliver, a rebellious and spirited but fiercely loyal young girl growing up with her parents and brother Tom in a small town in England in the 1820′s.  The novel follows Maggie from childhood to adulthood.  At the center of the novel is Maggie’s moral conflict,  as she is forced to choose between her responsibility to those she loves and a desire for her own happiness.  It’s a beautifully written book, and one I’d heartily recommend.

The surname Eliot picked for her protagonist is rather rare — but it’s not unheard of.  In fact, a journey over to IMDB reveals:

• Barbara Tulliver. a film editor
• a 1917 silent Western titled Truthful Tulliver
• character Jack Tuliver, played by Wesley Snipes in the 2005 action film 7 Seconds
• no fewer than 30 minor actors or characters with the spelling of Tolliver, and one movie set electrician back in the 40′s who wore it as a first name

Tulliver, Tuliver, and Tolliver seem to be Scottish versions of the Italian surname Taliaferro, meaning “to cut iron.”  Genealogists speculate this was originally a nickname applied to either metalworkers or perhaps fierce warriors who were able to cut through iron armor with their swords.  Either way, it has a strong masculine feel.

Though this suggestion may seem like it came way out of left field, consider Tulliver’s similiarities to other popular boys’ names:

• Oliver, which has been climbing the charts nationally and is firmly ranked in the top 100 in many East Coast states
• Gulliver, which certainly seemd an unusable literary choice until actor Gary Oldman used it for his son in 1997
• Sullivan, chosen by Patrick Dempsey for one of his 2007-born twin boys, and ranked in the U.S. top 1000 for the last seven years

Other reasons Tulliver sounds ready for discovery:

• Occupational surnames are definitely in, with Carter, Cooper, Hunter, and Parker all ranked in the top 100.
• Scottish and Irish names are stylish.
• It shortens easily to Tully, an independent Irish surname and a familiar coffee chain on the West Coast.
• It has the hot V sound we’ve been hearing so much about.
• From Atticus to Holden to even Huckleberry, increasing numbers of parents are turning to favorite books in order to find names for their sons.

If you’re looking for the sort of name your son is guaranteed not to share with anyone at his nursery school but you want something that still fits in with the tastes of our time, Tulliver might be one to consider.

One reader wonders, can you still use these names without sounding too much like a fan?

Jane writes:

My favorite and second favorite names are Rose and Alice, respectively. In Twilight two of the characters are Rosalie and Alice, with Rosalie sometimes called Rose for short. Do you think having Rose and Alice as siblings, especially with Twilight so popular right now, is a bad idea? Will people immediately assume that I am a huge Twilight fan and named my children because of that?

Also, do you think that Alice will make a leap forward in popularity because of Twilight? Jacob and Isabella are already popular. I can see Emmett and Jasper jumping. Do you think Alice will?

Here’s my helpful guide to using a Twilight name without sounding too fannish. Keep in mind that these rules can be applied to names from other books, movies, or TV shows as well.

1. Consider naming just one child after Twilight. If you name your firstborn Jasper, sure you might be a Twilight fan. Or you might be a gemologist. Or you might like the Three Wise Men. Or you might hope your child grows up to be a petty British crook like the one in 101 Dalmatians. It’s silly to assume fanhood based on one name alone.

2. Choose names that are less marked. Edward, Alice, and Rose have been in the U.S. top 500 for the past century. They have tons of literary and historical namesakes. In fact, 100 years ago, they were all in the top 20, so chances are very good that you have a relative on your family tree with at least one of these names. On the other hand, Rosalie, Esme, Jasper, and Emmett have never appeared in the U.S. top 100. (Well, Rosalie did briefly back in 1936.) They’re much less common, and thus much more marked as Twilight names.

3. Don’t name your children after famous lovers. You wouldn’t call your kids Romeo and Juliet or Adam and Eve, would you? Of course not — that would be gross! The same thing goes for Edward and Bella.

4. Add in some extra padding. If I met a family whose first two kids were called Jasper and Rosalie, I might assume they were fans. However, if I met a family with kids named Jasper, Hazel, Sylvia, and Rosalie, I likely wouldn’t make the connection at all.

5. Consider using a variation. If you really like Edward, consider Edmond or Frederick. Instead of Emmett, try Everett. Instead of Jasper, what about Casper? Rosalie could be substituted with Rose or Rosalind. Parents fond of Esme might also like Amelie. Isabella-fans might go for Arabella or Annabella. Instead of Alice, consider Alison or Adeline. Siblings called Edmond, Casper, Adeline, and Rose would be stylish without being fannish.

6. Don’t use an invented name. If you name your daughter Renesmee, you might as well face it — you’re a fan.

7. Remember that Twilight won’t be popular forever. The parents of a child called Hamlet or Ophelia are probably pegged for life as Shakespeare enthusiasts. But Meyer isn’t Shakespeare, and as with all things pop culture, the associations tend to fade over time. For example, in 1985, a character on All My Children had a daughter and called her Emily Ann. Apparently when I was a little girl, people used to come knowingly up to my mother and say things like, “You watch All My Children, don’t you?” or “I bet her middle name is Ann!” It drove my mother crazy for about a year or so. But you know what? I’ve never heard those comments. The association was lost with time. (And I’ll have you know I was NOT named after a character from a soap opera. My parents were much more sophisticated than that. They named me after a character on The Bob Newhart Show.)

In summary, Jane, I think using Rose and Alice for your first two daughters would be just fine. As to the question of whether these names will jump in popularity, it’s hard to make accurate predictions. Jacob and Isabella were already top-10 names before the advent of the Twilight series. Jasper and Emmett were also on the rise, and most of the names Meyer has chosen for her characters fit in well with the choices stylish parents were already considering. (In fact, most appear on Nameberry’s “Yupster” lists for boys and girls.)

Popular book and TV names can both influence and reflect names that are popular in the culture as a whole. For example, Emma had been a fast rising name since the early 1990′s, but it was propelled into the top 10 in 2002 (the same year Rachel and Ross from Friends chose it for their baby). It’s likely that classics like Edward, Alice, and Rose will also rise, but considering they last peaked about 100 years ago, that might be largely due to normal name cycles. Still, it’s probable that the Twilight series could give them a bit of an extra boost.

It’s also worth considering that, while some adults are certainly reading the Twilight series, the target audience seems to be teenage girls. And while some teenage girls are certainly having babies, the average age at which women in the U.S. have their first child is 25. The TV show Friends, on the other hand, was targeted mainly at young adults (of average childbearing age) and was thus perhaps more likely to immediately affect baby name statistics. Consider your average 15-year-old of today — she’s a sophomore in high school, she’s avidly reading the Twilight series, and she has resolved to name her first children Edward and Rosalie. Ten years from now when she is ready to have children, will she still like those names best, or will she have moved on to something else? It’s hard to say. Let’s carefully watch the rankings over the next couple of years and see where these names stand.

Speaking of what to call the baby, I got my husband to sit down and talk baby names yesterday.  I’ve been wanting him to come up with his own list of names he likes instead of simply picking and choosing off mine.  To facilitate the process (and since I thought a huge book of baby names might intimidate him), I introduced him to Nymbler.

On the boys’ side, he put in six names he already likes (a few originally from his list, a few that were originally mine).  I have starred the ones we put in as our inspirations.  We then added to the list any of Nymbler’s suggestions that he said he liked.  Here’s how his boys’ list currently stands:

• Wesley*
• Diego*
• Jeremy*
• Julius*
• Simon*
• Elliot*
• Oliver
• Curtis
• Kenneth
• Edmund
• Milo
• Jared
• Duncan
• Bradford

For the girls, he put in our currently agreed-upon top five (starred).  With the Nymbler suggestions, his list now looks like this:

• Clara*
• Sonia*
• Susanna*
• Miriam*
• Eleanor*
• Audrey
• Adelaide
• Celia
• Cecilia
• Helena
• Rachel
• Beatrix
• Adelie
• Adeline

Overall, I’d say the boys’ list still feels a little all over the place.  I do like most of the names, but I find some far more exciting than others.  The only one I don’t care for at all is Curtis — I have a vague sense that I must have known a very unpleasant Curtis in my formative years.

I am extremely pleased with how the girls’ list turned out.  I’d happily use just about any  name from the list.  One thing Brian and I do agree on is that we don’t want a very common name, so I’m guessing Audrey and Rachel will get crossed off the list at some point, lovely though they may be.

This all led to a bit of a scary offer last night.  You see, I’ve been trying to convince him we should consider using two middle names for our daughters.  I have a strong desire to pass on my middle name (Joy), as it has been used in some form by women in my family for three generations now.  However, combined with our current two-syllable top girls’ picks and our one-syllable last name, the combos seem a bit bland.  Clara Joy Grey.  Sonia Joy Grey.  I have this feeling that I should be able to come up with something better.  Something like Clara Anneliese Joy Grey or Clara Gwendolen Joy Grey would just sparkle a bit more.

Brian is very skeptical about the two middle name idea.  I told him last night that I would let him have final say on the girls’ first name if I got to give her two middles.  It was a scary offer to make — after all, it does leave us open to the slight possibility that he’ll suddenly fall in love with McKayla or Destiny.  Still, considering the names he’s already picked, I think I’d be pretty safe.

Fortunately or unfortunately, my offer was refused.  Oh, well.  I do think it’s better for naming a child to be a collaborative process, and we do have almost seven months to work this out.

I’d love to hear your reactions to his list — favorites, least favorites — or your opinion on using two middle names.  And since school is out, I should be back to regular posting this week.  Thanks for reading, as always!

Anyway, you have probably noticed I haven’t been posting quite as much as usual.  I’ve been very tired recently, and surprisingly enough this news has made me want to spend more time with my husband (while I still can) and less time thinking about baby names (at least for the moment).  But as soon as the school year is over next week, I should be back to posting regularly.

We have been talking about names a bit, of course.  How could we not?  At the moment, we feel we have a good list of girl possibilities, including our one clear front-runner (Clara).  The boys’ list definitely needs work, so I’m sure I’ll be calling on you all for help on that front.  We apparently have until January 4, 2010, to figure this all out.

We’re very excited, and I’m glad I’ll finally be able to replace the generic baby in the picture above with one of my own making!

Renata writes:

I was wondering what you thought about names that are hyphenated, such as Anna-Simone over Anna Simone, or Samantha-Rose over Samantha Rose. Also, I was wondering what you thought about taking a common name (Sophia) and using a less common spelling (Sofia). Thanks!

First of all, congratulations are in order.  Renata recently had a baby girl whom she named Sofia, choosing the less common Russian spelling in honor of her Russian heritage.

As far as double-barreled names go, like Anna-Simone or Samantha-Rose, they’re not my personal style.  That doesn’t mean they’re bad for someone else to use.  I just didn’t grow up around them, so to me it seems like an awful lot of name for everyday use.  I’d be more inclined to use Samantha as the first name and Rose as the middle and then call her either Samantha or Samantha Rose depending on my mood.

For those who do like double-barreled names, there are advantages and disadvantages to the hyphen.  The hyphen obviously makes it more clear that the name is intended to be said as a single unit.  Without the hyphen, Samantha Rose is slightly more likely to turn into plain old Samantha.  However, many computerized forms and programs do not recognize punctuation in personal names, so if you pick the hyphenated Samantha-Rose, your daughter might have the complication of being Samantha-Rose in some contexts and Samantha Rose in others.  She might also be frustrated that her name appears punctuated incorrectly on most official documents.

If forced to choose, I would tentatively come down on the no hyphen side.  I’d like to hear readers’ opinions on this one, though, especially those who know people with double-barreled names.

Spelling is a hotly-debated issue among name enthusiasts.  I’ve heard many argue that choosing an uncommon spelling makes your child’s name “more unique,” while others claim choosing any but the most common spelling will make your child hate you because she’ll have to spell it out to everyone she meets.  I disagree with both positions.

There are times it’s perfectly reasonable to use a less common alternate spelling.  Some good reasons for picking a variant spelling:

• It honors your heritage (e.g., choosing Sofia over Sophia if you’re of Latin or Russian descent)
• It honors a namesake (e.g., choosing Katharine over Katherine in honor of Ms. Hepburn)
• It’s a legitimate, historically-attested spelling that you happen to prefer aesthetically (e.g., choosing Isobel over Isabelle because you like its spare look)

It’s also reasonable to choose a variant spelling when it helps to simplify the pronunciation of a very foreign-looking name, though I’d advise parents to be cautious when doing this.  For example, I don’t fault those who pick the Anglicized Neve over the original Irish Niamh, especially in the U.S. where Niamh is unfamiliar.  However, be careful when doing this that you’re not causing the name to lose all its grace.  Caoimhe is another Irish moniker almost impossible for most Americans to pronounce correctly, but Keeva looks less sophisticated, at least to my eyes.  Also, be sure you’re not catering to cultural illiteracy by choosing an “easier” spelling.  For example, there’s no reason Chloe and Zoe should ever have to be spelled as Kloey and Zoey.  Educated people should know how to pronounce Zoe.  Have high aspirations for your child:  assume she will someday mingle among an educated set.  And if people don’t know how to pronounce your child’s name?  Well, then, your child can educate them.

Of course, there are times it’s a bad idea to use a variant spelling.  Some thoughts on when NOT to go the alternate spelling route:

• Choosing an uncommon spelling of a common name does not make the name less common.  If you like Isabella but are bugged by its top-10 status, don’t name your child Izabella.  They sound exactly the same.  If there are two Isabellas in your daughter’s first grade class, they’ll still either be Isabella D. and Izabella M. or Isabella-with-an-S and Izabella-with-a-Z.  If it’s a unique name you’re craving, choose something uncommon in its own right (like Mirabella).  And if you really love Isabella, just name your daughter Isabella.
• Inventing your own spelling is usually a bad idea.  It often comes off looking somewhat illiterate.  I once heard of someone considering Kalub for her son, and it made me think of some of the T-shirts I used to see around my college campus.  You see, I went to UC Berkeley, commonly known as Cal, and our rival school was Stanford.  We would mock them by wearing “Stanfurd sucks” on our shirts, and they’d mock us by spelling our name as “Kal.”  By misspelling the names, we were implying that the students at the rival school were illiterate and stupid.  When I heard of that poor parent considering Kalub, I couldn’t help but think that she was incorporating both the K from Kal and the U from Stanfurd into her child’s name, to much the same effect.
• Be aware that newly-invented alternate spellings (especially those using K-substitution and and Y-substitution) are very trendy right now.  In 20 years’ time, Isabella and Caleb might not be fashionable, but they’ll still be classic.  Izzybella and Kaleb will look dated and probably downright silly.

I’d love to hear readers’ thoughts on hyphens and spelling for baby names.  Do you have any other baby name grammar rules you’d like to share?

Girls:

• Aaliyah
• Abby
• Aislin
• Alana (with brother Damean)
• Alexa (with sister Kaitlyn)
• Alexis (with brother Darrian)
• Amber
• Amelia
• Annika (with brother Ronan)
• Arianna
• Ashley (with identical twin Emily)
• Avery
• Breanna
• Brianna
• Camille
• Carsen (with sister Hayden)
• Cecillia
• Cori
• Destiny
• Emily x 2 (one with identical twin Ashley)
• Erin (with brother Aidan)
• Georgie (perhaps her full name, as it was embroidered on her hat just like this)
• Hannah x 3 (one with sister Natalie, one with sister Mackenzie)
• Hayden (with sister Carsen)
• Isabella
• Jayelyn
• Jessica
• Kaitlyn (with sister Alexa)
• Kayla
• Kaylee
• Lealy
• Livvy (probably Olivia in full, as I heard this one spoken aloud)
• Mackenzie (with sister Hannah)
• Madelaine
• Madison
• Maya
• Michaela
• Natalie x 3 (one with sister Hannah)
• Talia
• Tessa
• Tiana

Boys:

• Aiden (with sister Erin)
• Anthony (with brother Joshua)
• Cole
• Damean (with sister Alana)
• Damian
• Daniel x 2
• Darrian (with sister Alexis)
• David
• Dylan x 3
• Erick
• Isaiah
• Jared
• Joshua (with brother Anthony)
• Malachi
• Matthew x 3
• Ronan (with sister Annika)
• Tyler

Overall, the names are rather what one would expect.  There are a few bright spots:  my favorites are Amelia, Cecillia (though I’m not sure what that second L is doing there), Madelaine, and Camille.  And my prize for the best sibset goes to Annika and Ronan.  There is one girls’ name on the list I find particularly bad, though I won’t say which one in order not to offend anyone.  I was surprised to run across such a huge preponderance of “A” names for girls:  they made up over 1/4 of the names on the list.

The most interesting name I found was Lealy.  I’d never heard it before, so I looked it up.  Apparently there’s an Egyptian singer named Amr Diab who released a best-selling album in 2004 called Leily Nahary (translated:  “My Nights, My Days”).  Because Leily Nahary is a transliteration from the Arabic alphabet, it is occasionally spelled in other ways, including Lealy Nahary.  Another possible source for the name of the Disneyland preschooler:  actress Carmen Llywelyn, ex-wife of Jason Lee, named her 2004-born twins Lucian and Lealy.  A Google search turns up several other people named Lealy.  It appears to be an Irish surname and a very rare given name for both males and females.  Wherever it may have come from, it’s an interesting alternative to Lily and Leila.

Kids weren’t the only ones with notable names, of course.

• Winner of the coolest adult name:  Cosmin, our waiter.  It is a Romanian form of Cosmo/Cosmas, and I like that it seems a little less space-agey than Cosmo.
• Winner of the oddest adult name embroidered on a hat:  Kenyetta.  I can see the appeal of Kenya, but please stop there.
• And an “I knew it could still work today” name:  A young teenager called Lois!

• Amal — “hope” in Arabic and “work” in Hebrew
• Amir — “prince” in Arabic and “treetop” in Hebrew
• Amit — “immeasurable, infinite” in Sanskrit and “friend” in Hebrew
• Andor — “eagle Thor” in Norwegian and a Hungarian form of Andrew (“man”)
• Anan — “fourth born child” in Akan (a West African language) and “cloud” in Hebrew
• Asim — “protector” in Arabic and “boundless, limitless” in Sanskrit
• Barak — “blessing” in Arabic, “lightning” in Hebrew, and now “President” in the United States
• Bo/Beau — the former spelling is a Chinese name meaning “wave” and a Swedish and Danish nickname meaning “to live”; the latter spelling is the French masculine word for “beautiful”
• Chi — “tree branch” in Vietnamese and an Igbo (West African) nickname meaning “god”
• Finn/Fionn — the former spelling is a Scandinavian name meaning “person from Finland”; both spellings are used for the Irish Gaelic name meaning “fair or white”
• Gil — “joy” in Hebrew; a nickname for the Germanic Gilbert (“pledge”); if pronounced HEEL or ZHEEL, the Spanish and Portuguese form of Giles (“young goat”)
• Gus – a Greek diminutive for Constantine (“steadfast”) and an English nickname for Augustus (“great, venerable”)
• Jay — “victory” in Sanskrit and a surname/nickname/birdname in English
• Kader — “fate, destiny” in Turkish and “capable, powerful” in Arabic
• Kai – “sea” in Hawaiian and a German and Scandinavian nickname
• Kamal — “perfection” in Arabic and “lotus” in Sanskrit
• Kamil – “perfect” in Arabic; also the Czech, Slovak, and Polish form of Camillus
• Ken — “healthy, strong” in Japanese and a nickname for the Scottish Kenneth (“handsome”)
• Lev — “lion” in Russian and “heart” in Hebrew
• Melek/Melech — the first spelling means “angel” in Turkish; both spellings mean “king” in Hebrew
• Neo – “gift” in Tswana (a Southern African name) and “new” if derived from Greek
• Omar — “populous, flourishing” in Arabic and “speaker” in Hebrew
• Oz — “strength” in Hebrew and an English nickname (from Oswald or Osborn) meaning “god”
• Ram – “exalted” in Hebrew and “pleasing” in Sanskrit; also the English word for a male sheep, of course
• Riku – “land” in Japanese and a Finnish nickname for Richard (“brave power”)
• Rohan — “ascending” in Sanskrit; also used by Lord of the Rings fans as it means “horse country” in the fictitious language of Sindarin
• Roi/Roy — the former spelling means “my shepherd” in Hebrew and is a short form of Rodrigo in Galician (a language of Spain); the latter spelling is a Scottish Gaelic name meaning “red”; both spellings are sometimes associated with the French word roi meaning “king”
• Ron — “song, joy” in Hebrew and a nickname for the Scottish Ronald (“advice + ruler”)
• Sami — “elevated, sublime” in Arabic and a Hungarian and Finnish nickname for Samuel (“God has heard”)
• Shad — “happy” in Arabic and an English nickname for the biblical Shadrach
• Shay/Shai — the former spelling means either “admirable” or “hawk-like” in Irish Gaelic; both spellings are a Hebrew name meaning “gift”
• Sol — a short form of the Hebrew Solomon (“peace”); also a Spanish and Portuguese name meaning “sun”:  Behind the Name lists it as feminine, but I’d love to hear from a native Spanish speaker whether this would work on a boy (much the way nature names like River work on both genders in English)
• Tore – a Scandinavian short form for names containing the element Þórr (“Thor”); also an Italian nickname for Salvatore (“savior”)
• Udo — “peace” in Igbo (a West African language) and “wealth, fortune” in German

Comparing this list to the girls’ list of last week, I immediately notice a couple things.  First, the majority of these boys’ names are rather short and many of them were originally nicknames in at least one of the source languages.  Unlike the girls’ list, where the majority of the names end in A, it seems harder to pick out a common cross-linguistic pattern for boys’ names.  Perhaps because of that, it’s usually in the nicknames where we see overlap.

Second, many of these seem on the whole less usable in English than the girls’ names.  Why is it that so many of us will tolerate more foreign-sounding names for our daughters than for our sons?  For example, I can imagine plenty of non-Indian/non-Arabic parents loving Lila for a girl, but I’d imagine most of them would never consider Asim for a boy.   I’d love to get your opinions on this phenomenon.

I’d also love to hear your favorites and least favorites.  As for me, I’m completely charmed by the possibilities of Gil and Lev.  Ken, Jay, and Roy are easy-going English standards that could be given new lift by their multi-lingual capabilities.  I find Rohan and Andor quite handsome, and Neo fascinates me, but I worry that after The Matrix it wouldn’t be taken seriously.

So, are there any of these that you would use — and why does this list seem less usable than the girls’ list?