The process of naming our third baby has felt like it's gone on forever. It was made worse be finding out the gender so much earlier this time. With the older boys I think I was eighteen weeks and twenty weeks when we found out they were boys. With this little guy I found out around fourteen weeks, leaving us with months to argue about names and get nowhere. Everyone who talked to me about it asked the same question, "what is left on your name list from your other kids?" Simple, Rowan Danny, which is already taken. So the search started from nothing and stayed at nothing for a long time.
I should mention that Zach and I previously took about a week or two to name the boys. We had boy and girl names fairly lined out going into the ultrasound, so once we found out the gender the name was pretty well set. So the months of debate was an unwelcome change. Every name I suggested Zach hated for random reasons, there is a K sound at the beginning, there is a K sound at the end, if I look at it funny the T looks like a K, it's too boring, it's too weird, and my personal favorite "I just don't like it." Zach did give a few suggestions, such as Winslow, which as all my 90s children friends know, Mr. Winslow lived across the street from Steve Erckle and was a large, old policeman. NO!
We toyed with idea of Atticus for a long time, however the new (or really old depending on how you look at it) book by Harper Lee ruined the name for me. Not giving away too many spoilers here, but in the new book (which in reality was the first draft of To Kill A Mockingbird which ended up being scrapped and rewritten) Atticus is not the larger than life, man above reproach, defender of everyone's rights based on his extreme character. Spoiler Alert: he is a down right, hardcore, racist and it kind of broke my heart. Don't read it, it will ruin Atticus and the name for you forever. I know that Harper Lee never really wanted this book to be published and was convinced to do it on her death bed, by someone trying to get their hands on her money. However, it did get published, and I couldn't get over him being a racist, so I couldn't commit to the name. Also my best friend has a dog named Atticus, which was less of a hurdle to get over, but still sort of strange.
So for weeks we were left in a terrible version of the name game. It should be noted Zach and I both hate talking about baby names, probably because we so rarely agree on one (only three times to be exact). The only people who might hate the name game more than we do are our children, who on a daily basis would yell at me, "But what are we going to call him MOM!!!!!!!!!!" Implying, get it together parents and name our little brother. One day I asked Zane, who was the most annoyed by the whole thing, what he thought about the name Beckett. His response was priceless, "Yeah, Beckett that sounds good, his name is Beckett, let's just call him Beckett." Turns out Beckett sounds a lot like Bucket, which we yell a lot in our house when people are about to throw up, not a great connotation and Zach wasn't completely sold. Also, I liked the idea of all the Grandkids having their own letter and their is already a wonderful B in the cousin mix on both sides of the family.
Much to Zane's dismay the debate continued until Christmas Eve 2016. On our way home from Christmas Eve Mass (our first, failed attempt), Zach saw a sign for E. Thatcher St. in downtown Edmond, OK. I love all -er ending names, my favorite being Asher, which upon research we found out was way to popular and would be shortened to Ash a la Ashley's from my childhood. So I was delighted to hear Zach suggest Thatcher (which I'm confident I had thrown out as a suggestion before). I think that Zach might have been persuaded to settle on a name by the idea of never having to talk about naming another human being for the rest of his life. So we shook on it, thus naming our third and final boy Thatcher Valentine.
His middle name was always, most likely, going to be Valentine. I have already used the names of the two most important men in my life, besides my lovely husband of course (who, for the record, did not want his child named after him, I suggested it multiple times). I love my Grandpa Dotter to death, but am not a huge fan of either of his names (Billy Dale), so I gave middle naming rights to Zach. Keeping with our thought that middle names should hold meaning Zach went with a very traditional Korenak name, Valentine. Zach has an Uncle Val which he is pretty close to and his father also had an Uncle Valentine. I wasn't fully on board with it, but at some point during the horrible name game, mentioned above, I said, "Ok I'm closing my eyes and opening this name book, you close your eyes and point to a name, that's what we'll name him." When we actually did this Zach legitimately put his finger on Valentine, closing on debate on this child's middle name.
So the names of our little family are finally complete. I tried buying Thatcher a Pottery Barn Christmas stocking to match his brothers during the after Christmas sale, to make it official, but I was too late. So he'll get his stocking next year and this blog will have to be the official announcement. The boys are beyond excited about little Thatchy, as Rowan calls him. Since getting a name Rowan also feels that Thatcher really wants a stuffed animal to cuddle. He let him cuddle his stuffed polar bear the other night, in an attempt to get Thatcher to stop kicking me. Most days Rowan thinks Thatcher really wants to cuddle his little Hedgehog I bought when we told the boys they were having a brother. Rowan can't figure out why Thatcher doesn't "cuddle it" when he places it against my belly. Strange how that doesn't work. There have been a few mornings where this has been my wake up call, Rowan shoving a stuffed hedgehog under the covers demanding Thatcher cuddle it.
A name makes it more real and gives the little guy his own personality. I'm excited that we've finally chosen our little guy's name. There is a twinge of sadness, as with all the lasts we'll be facing this year, at the thought of there not being anymore babies to name. But such is life, we'll have a lovely little family with our three, sweet, blonde headed boys! Nothing is as I had pictured it growing up, with two boys and two girls, but turns out it's so much better!
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