Darling Baby Whatshisname.

My kid is ten weeks old today.
And he has no idea what his name is.
Now, I know a ten-week-old baby isn't really supposed to know his name yet. But the problem is, my fear is, he never will.
Because I never, never, never call him by his name.
The irony behind this is how much slaving and arguing and begging and negotiating and waffling and soul searching goes into picking a name for your baby. It is a huge responsibility. It's daunting as hell. And, apparently, it's pointless.
Hubby and I hadn't told anyone what name we'd chosen for our son, partly because we liked having a little something just for us and mostly because I was pretty sure I would change my mind. So out he came, and named he was, and there was much fanfare and announcing. And that was that - the last time we addressed him formally.
Below, a woefully incomplete list of names I've used to address/describe/label/judge the little guy since laboring over, choosing, and christening him with the perfect name:
Baby.
(Original. Funny enough, this is still what he gets called most. Hopefully it'll never occur to him to mind, and no one will ever put him in a corner?)
Norbert.
(His grandparents gave him this one early on in the pregnancy. So there's a little insight into the genes he'll have to contend with.)
Little Man. 
Nugget. 
Noodle.
(He was almost 22 inches when he was pulled - and pulled, and pulled - from my midsection. Like giving birth to a garden hose.)
Chief Tiny Flying Fists.
The Nipple Hater. 
Love Bug. 
The Sphinx.
(This one will only resonate with those of you on my level of nerdiness. Remember The NeverEnding Story? Remember the sphinxes Bastian had to pass? Remember how they killed people with their eyes? Here's a refresher: Those caught between their gaze are frozen on the spot and doomed to remain until they solve every riddle in the world, or until they die. That is how I feel when his eyes begin to open and I don't know what he wants and I am afraid of him.)
Otter.
(There are two origins here, if that's possible. One is the movie I think helped me choose his name when I was a little girl. The other is the movie that my dad thinks helped me choose his name when I was a little girl.)
Bugga. 
(Short for Buggaboo.)
Lil brudder. 
Toots McGee.
Babaloo.
Whitey Bulger.
(There was an unfortunate hairline issue. We're getting past it. Slowly.)
Guppie. 
Freddie.
(As in Krueger. Those nails are deadly.)
Little Prince.
Antoine.
Shir Shits-a-Lot.
Cooper/Jason/Max/Oliver.
TBDBITL.
(The Best Damn Baby in the Land.)
Ninja Pants. 
Muppet. 
Moppet.
Munchin.
Monchichi.
Mohammed Ali.
(Those aren't speed bags, kid. Stop punching me.)
Hippo.
(As in Hungry Hungry.)

And on that note, its eyes are opening. It's hungry. Wish me luck.