The Second Decade, and Gussie's name

I read an article once talking about how so many of the sacrifices you make in the first decade of parenting don't really bear fruit until the second decade. It's so true. I remember so well those days of babies, toddlers, and preschoolers all clamoring for my attention every moment. And for me…those days have never really ended…but in spite of the similarities, things feel so different now. I rarely feel isolated. I am less often overwhelmed…not because I don't get overwhelmed, but because I have more people to help me when I am feeling that way. And it is sweeter than I ever imagined to see the tenderness of the older children as the younger ones come along. It makes me want to go back in time and give my first-decade-mother self a hug and tell her that good days are coming, and that it will be worth all her efforts and tears. There are not many instances these days when I see a genuine, undiluted smile on a certain teenager's face, but when he holds Gussie (and he insists on holding him often) that smile comes out every time!  

And as I approach the end of this second decade, I want to look to my third-decade self for reassurance as well: it will all be okay in the end, won't it? I'll get better at raising teenagers? We'll all laugh about these struggles someday? (Maybe that's too much to hope. Maybe it's the fifth-decade self that has those answers. Or beyond.) Anyway, I keep telling myself (as new challenges and worries keep appearing) that so many things are so much easier and better than they used to be. I'm going to keep learning and improving, and today's hard things will get better too!

I think I mentioned that it took us days and days to come up with a name for this ninth baby. I don't know when I've been so overcome by such a (seemingly) simple task! No matter how much I told myself not to blow it out of proportion, and that any name we chose would end up being beloved because it was his name—it still just felt like a big deal to me, and I agonized over it (much more than Sam did; he would have been happy to go with any of the finalists on our list, and many times urged me to just choose my favorite! But I didn't know my favorite!). I've always been a name enthusiast, so I couldn't bear to choose something that seemed just…ordinary. And it made it even harder when the kids expressed their own preferences (or dislikes) and I felt like I'd be disappointing someone no matter what we chose!

Anyway, after all that, I think the thing that tipped the scales for Augustus Finch was that it had a connection to every one of his brothers' names.

• Abraham shares a first initial with Augustus

• "Sebastos" is the Greek form of the Latin name Augustus! (So did we name two of our boys the same name?…Yes, I suppose we did.)

• Malachi loves birds, and we chose "Finch" for his sake

• Theodore's middle name is August. (We wondered if that was a reason NOT to choose Augustus, but…decided it wasn't.)

• Ezekiel Frost shares with Augustus Finch a middle name that is also a nature name, 5 letters, starting with F

Augustus also shares a bird name with Junie (Juniper Lark), and a connection to "gold" (from the Latin "au" root of aurum) with Daisy Aurora and Marigold Eve.

I love the nickname Augie and would be happy if we ended up using it sometimes! But now, honestly, he's sometimes "Gus" and mostly "Gussie"—I think because we are all so familiar with the Jeeves stories by P.G. Wodehouse, and they feature the wonderful character Gussie Fink-Nottle. True, poor Gussie is a newt-fancier and a teetotaler and not the MOST heroic figure in literature—but there are worse associations. :) Anyway, I quite like the way I sometimes hear Augustus's name in my head said in Aunt Agatha's stern voice: "Oh-GUS-tus!"

We're also getting plenty of practice with the correct use of apostrophes after a word ending in S! And

Gus'
Augustus'
Gus's
Augustus's

are all correct, in case you were wondering. Unless you want the plural, in which case it would be "two Augustuses were present at Aunt Agatha's ball."

You are wishing to remark on the giraffe in the background, perhaps. Well. It's just that once, long ago, our outside fridge gave out and Abe and I went to RC Willey to look for a new one. And, having bought the new one, found that it came with a free giraffe. I don't know why. But we duly brought him home and named him "Slim." And since all the other children would have fought over and ruined him, I keep him in Sam's and my room, and Abe and Seb always move him over by my bed where he can loom over me and terrify me when I wake up. And for Christmas someone put reindeer antlers on him. That is all.

Oh, poor Ziggy! His facial expression here just makes me laugh and laugh. You can see him gearing up for something here, and immediately after this picture was taken, he did it: reached out to shove the unwanted parcel off his lap and onto the floor.  (Don't worry—we caught Gus!) You'll be relieved to hear that Zig is getting more used to baby Gus now, and even kisses him voluntarily on the head from time to time.

We do love this little brown-eyed monkey, in spite of his monkey-ness!

Teddy MIGHT be Gus's most enthusiastic fan. He still, without fail, even three months later, comes in my room every morning and says "Where's Baby-Cute?" (his name for Gus) and then, "When you're done nursing, can I play with him?" And then he sits in front of Gussie and smiles at him and shakes maracas at him and squeals in adoration every time Gussie smiles back.

Gussie certainly is well-loved, as you can see!