EEK , for some reason that particular name combo gives me the shudders , J&D should never go in combination , unless its JACK and DANIELS
Declan
My daughter is called Siobhan - because she was born in wales and I was horribly homesick for NI. When the nurse brought her to me the first time she said ‘Is this your daughter Sy-o-ban’ … I’ve found that a lot of people outside Ireland don’t get the pronunciation.
No shit Jack ,lol
Declan
BTW shioban translated into english is Susan , right ?
Well, I guess I dodged a bullet ending up with Tegan. Still, its a bit annoying that no one( in the US at least) can pronounce it. Or spell it. At least it’s nice to know I’m not the only one out there.
When my parents moved to the States (from Russia) in the 60’s, my mother learned alot of her English from watching television. She thought the lead in Adam 12 was brave and handsome, like she wanted her son to be, so she named me Adam. Of course she didn’t realize Adam 12 wasn’t his name and only the patrol car’s handle.
Just be glad she didn’t give you “Twelve” as a middle name.
According to the dictionary it is
I got Geoffrey so I would have the same initials as my father (Gerry). You’d be surprised as how many people must just look at the first and last letters of my name and call me Gregory.
My parents swear to me that when they called me Emma it wasn’t very popular girls name. Hah! In seventh form there were eleven other 'Emma’s in my year. Eleven!
It used to bother me a lot, but I’ve mellowed.
The question is, how many Emmas were there in the year before you? I only ask because the same thing happened with my son’s name.
How is it pronounced? DJs here pronounce Tegan (of Tegan and Sara) as tea-gin, “gin” sounding like the end of begin. How far off the mark is that?
Names after my grandfather.
I’m named after my grandfather, who was born on Valentine’s Day and (poor guy) got the name “Valentine.” Fortunately that was shortened to “Val.”
I was named after him, but my parents were nicer and named me “Valerie,” which also gets shortened to “Val.”
I was named after my maternal grandfather. He did not have a middle name, so I got both his names as my first and middle names.
My parents wanted an unusual name and picked out Chandra from a baby name book. I like it but it makes marketers think I’m Indian so I keep getting samples of magazines intended for Indian-American women. 
I was all set to be Shayna Louise, after the title character in some trashy romance novel my mother loved and my dad. They picked it out back when she was pregnant with my big brother, in case he was a girl. Then one of dad’s cousins had a little girl and named her Shannon Lynn. Mom was a bit cranky about the names being that close, but was willing to overlook it. Then, while Mom was pregnant with me, one of his other cousins got a German Shepherd and named her Sadie Lou. Mom decreed that no baby of hers was going to have a name that close to a dog’s, so they mercifully scrapped it and named me after one of Mom’s favorite students.
My understanding of Dr.J’s name is that his parents looked up a day or so before he was born and said, “Oh shit, what if it’s a boy? We can’t name a boy Camille.” So they picked out something they liked the sound of.
My mom was in the hospital with me with that thing where the mom is actually allergic to the fetus (no idea what it’s called - anyone??) and in the bed near her was a friend of hers. Well, an aquaintence.
Said acquaintence was convinces, and I do mean convinced she was having a boy. Would not even consider anything else. My parents had decided on the name Jennifer for me. When said Acquaintence had her baby, it was a …wait for it…girl.
This upset her so much - she wouldn’t hold the baby, wouldn’t see it, etc. They had counselors in, and the works, to try to get her to bond with the child. Of course, she didn’t have a girl’s name picked out. One of the things the counselors were trying to do was get this woman to name her child, in the hopes it might force her to ackowledge the baby.
Finally, after much prodding, she turns to my mom and said “Well, what name are you naming your girl?” To which my mom, startled, replied, “Jennifer.” And the woman…wait for it…said “Fine. Her name is Jennifer.”
Well, turns out my parents were so horrified by this woman and her behavior and the odd way she acted (not just in the hospital but otherwise as well) that they immediately decided I was not to be a Jennifer. When I was born VERY premature, they named me Michelle, after the song (don’t get me started) and because of it’s biblical ties (Michael, arch-angel, etc. Ink’s parents were religious at the time).
So, cut to fifteen or sixteen years later when Ink is walking home from school and a janitor is following her and hitting on her - eeeew!! He keeps asking for my name. Finally, in desperation, I said, “My friends call me Jennifer.” Of course, this is without knowing the story of my naming.
I finally got home, told my parents of creepy-clean-up man. Mom was suitably horrified, but also quasi-amused when she calmed down, and told me the story of my naming.
Now it’s one of the ones we tell each year around the holiday table. Ink’s family is big on retelling family stories, which I am very okay with doing; I love family lore.
Ink
That’s how I pronounce it, but I’ve met way too many people who try to pronounce it tea-gon, or tea-jin, or tie-gan. I had one teacher who pronounced my name incorrectly for the entire year thanks to some obnoxious people who know exactly how to pronouce my name but say it wrong anyway. :smack: And don’t even get me started on some of the bizzare spellings that people have come up with.
My name is a family name - my grandfather was named Tom, my uncle is named Tom, and there are at least two other Toms floating around somewhere in the Murray family lineage. My mother had, as a little girl, promised her mother that she’d name a son Tom and a daughter Mary Elizabeth (after my grandmother).
My twin brother, on the other hand… well, my mom knew we were going to be twins. They were picking names. (Incidentally, the girl names were Megan and Lauren, just because they “sounded nice.” Mary was too old-fashioned.) My dad, from his first marriage, had two children - one girl with a kidney disease that stunted her growth, and one boy who has fetal alcohol syndrome that manifested in the form of being emotionally developmentally delayed but very, very intelligent (I’m loathe to call it high-functioning autism because I’m not qualified to make that sort of diagnosis, but he carries himself the way I’ve heard Asperger’s described). Dad wanted the second boy name to be Quinn.
Mom, understandably, thought ahead and vetoed it.
As it stands, Pat(rick) would have made a perfect Quinn. He’s confident, irreverent and often assigns himself nicknames that make no sense. He eschewed Pat for a while and went exclusively by Ricky. He spent several years answering the phone, “This is Big Daddy, how can I help you?” He’s a facetious, enjoyable character who happened to be named that because my mom was desperate to avoid having a Quinn, and the discussion took place on March 17th.
For some unknown reason, my parents named me after a popular book of the time, ‘Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm’. No particular reason, just liked it and I have disliked it ever since.
In keeping with this literary tradition, I named the Offspring ‘Corwin’ after the Roger Zelazny books. He likes his name and he likes being the only ‘Corwin’ in any group. Works for me, works for him.
My father, on the other hand had been the last of 6 boys. Grandmom had run out of names so she listed him as ‘Norris’. She came home from the hospital and showed the boys their new brother. They didn’t like the ‘Norris’ name and called him ‘Richard’. Flash forward 65 years - My father goes to get his retirement and Social Security but there is no one named ‘Richard’ at his SSN. It finally got unscrewed but he was very surprised to find out his real name after that time.
We gave him a hard time about not being who he presented himself to be.