Of Monikers

My name is Chloe Aliceabeth Louise Melin. Quite a big name for a little baby, if i do say so myself (and I do), but that's my handle and I'll just have to handle it. My middle names come from a bunch of grandmas; "Alice" is my maternal grandma and was also the name of a paternal great-grandma, "Beth" is for Bethyl who was my Mom's grandma, and "Louise" is my paternal grandma. "Chloe" is all mine; I don't have to share that one. It means a young green shoot; a good spring name for a girl born in the spring.

However, despite having a good name all my own, it seems very few people want to use it. Both my grandmas called me Cleo at the start. Mom and Dad call me Princess or Chloekins, and my brother, Caleb, calls me Ko -eee (not bad; at least its better than Cleo)! For awhile, I actually thought my name was "Wow, look at all that hair!", because that is what everyone would say when they met me. My beautiful hair (long and very dark brown) is now falling out, especially on the left side of my head, so that latter name won't stick. All I can say is good thing hats are "in" this fall (at least with the under two set).

Lately Mom has started to call me Pudge-a-lump. I'm not very flattered by this one. I think it refers to my weight (I was just over 17 pounds at three months and have some beautiful curves to show for it)! I can't help it; life as a three-month-old is fairly sedentary: eat, be burped, spit up, stare at mobile or toy or someone's face, be picked up, be put down, have tummy time, pee, poop, have diaper changed, go to sleep, and repeat.

My initials spell "CALM", and that is pretty much my temperament. Someone has to keep it together around the Melin household. Brother Caleb is a wild one; I try to keep an eye on him as he careens around and does flying leaps off the couch. He is a little too interested in me sometimes. I don't mind the occasional kiss or hug (even though he tries to pick me up) and it is okay when he hands me a toy, but I'd rather he didn't try to stick things in my mouth. Yesterday, he actually sat on me! Mom was in the kitchen doing something and by the time she caught on to what Caleb was telling her ("I'm sitting on him!") and ran over to rescue me, I was feeling a little panicked and breathless. It was her loud yell "NO!!!" that almost made me cry, though. (She certainly wasn't very calm about the whole incident, and gave Caleb a real talking to). Dad is fairly cool most of the time, but Caleb seems to know how to push some of his buttons, too.

Anyhow, it is time to sleep again. A baby's work is never done.

Hugs and kisses,

Chloe