For the longest time, Rob and I planned to name our first daughter Emily. While I was pregnant, though, I started having second thoughts because of Emily’s popularity on baby-name lists. I didn’t want to send her to school where she’d be surrounded by a swarm of other Emilys day in and day out.
So we settled on Kaylee instead, which seemed like a great solution to my concerns right up until I visited the daycare I would eventually choose for her. In a room of 10 infants, two were named Kaylee and one was named Kylee. (She’s the only Kaylee in her class now, but a recent addition is named Zaylee.)
But I suppose there’s nothing wrong with my daughter growing up around other Kaylees. After all, my two best childhood friends were named Heather.
I spoke to one of those Heathers last night for the first time in several years – we lost touch around the time Rob and I got married – and somehow we managed to fall right back into the easy conversation we’d known since we were 10 years old. (Well, once we were past that awkward first play date when our parents made us play Barbies together, assuming two 10-year-old Heathers were bound to get along.)
Even though we had to update each other on the major changes in our lives – new kids, (much) more interesting careers, etc. – that old Heather bond was still there, and we promised not to go another four years without calling.
So, I guess Kaylee’s name isn’t as important as the friends she makes growing up. If she finds herself surrounded by other little Kaylees, maybe she’ll find one or two that she can still relate to decades later.
Oh, and by the way, I learned yesterday that my old friend Heather now has a daughter – named Emily.