New Names...?!

I've been calling my niece "Pipsqueak" since first meeting her.  (I mean, c'mon... she definitely was a pipsqueak!) As she became progressively less pipsqueakish, I asked her if it was OK to keep calling her that and each time she told me it was fine.  Of course I called her other things when we were goofing off -- like, f'rinstance, "George" -- but "Pipsqueak" has been my go-to private name for Miri since Day One.

I still call her "Pipsqueak" a lot, but for the past month or so we've been using different names that she decided on.  It started one day when we were all at Mom & Dad's house, and had (as usual) eaten a bit more than was advisable.  I was sitting on the couch in the family room with my very full belly sorta obvious (Dude, it was, like, sticking halfway out into the room, remember?), and Miri came over and whacked it a couple of times (as she is wont to do from time to time).

Apparently, she was amused by the sound of her makeshift biological drum and whacked me a couple of times more, stopping only when I poked her in the side and began to tickle her.  She then said something like, "You look like a Pooh bear, Winnie!" and I replied that I resembled that remark. After explaining what I meant, Miri started to laugh and said that I was "Winnie" so I responded by calling her "Piglet" -- and the names stuck.

Since then, she has decided that she has two names, since Mommy is Kanga and that means (exclusively for Mommy) she is Roo; Grandpa is Owl (I almost got that name because of all the questions I answer and all the homework I help with, but somehow Dad fit the bill better than I did); and Grandma is Rabbit.  She still uses the usual "Mommy" (or, increasingly, "Mom"), "Grandpa" or "Papa," and "Grandma," but it looks like I'm going to have to do some serious losing of girth before I lose the "Winnie" moniker.

So... If you're out & about and hear Yours Truly call his niece "Piglet," please don't be offended -- we're just enjoying each other's company while strolling through the Hundred Acre Wood.

A New Normal (and A Follow-Up)

Well, it wasn't the kid we thought it was.  (See my previous post, "She's Not Your Real Mother.")  After some gentle coaxing, Miri told me the girl's name and it's one of the kids who's in & out of special programs and who's been a thorn in the side of much of the class for a couple of years.  She was prattling happily about the (then not-yet-broadcast) "Descendants 3" from Disney when I quietly broached the question, and some carefully worded questions led the disclosure of not just the name, but several concerning episodes during this past school year as well. I know that the other girl's comments aboout adoption really hit home despite Miri's protestations otherwise; she began talking while just sitting on the couch next to me, and in a matter of two or three minutes was curled up with her favorite stuffed toys, tucking herself tightly under my arm while sniffling. There will be some discussions with the school Counselor (whose daughter is a close friend of Miri's and has been on the receiving end of some nastiness herself) and we'll see what happens.

That said, I'm afraid to look at the news any more. The world has never actually been a "safe" place, but -- at least in this country -- what were supposed to be safe places are actually becoming quite the opposite.  (The area in front of the Pipsqueak's school was fenced off a few days before summer vacation began in June, and construction on a new, more secure entrance to allow improved access control began just a couple of hours after the last bus had pulled out -- but there are doors & windows aaaaallll over that building, so... yeah.)

We thought we were ready for the inevitable "she's not your mother" scenarios along with the equally inevitable questions about biological family and possibly even some not-so-inevitable but potentially nasty issues arising from adoption, and so far we're doing better than we had hoped. (Mainly because my niece is an old soul who knows how much she's loved; we got lucky with that.)

What we had not prepared for, what we had not counted on having to prepare for, and, frankly, what we really should not have had to prepare for, is navigating a 10-year-old (and her generation) through the maze of having enough information about what's happening in society to be sufficiently wary to improve her safety without becoming overly fearful or paranoid; of having to think about safe spaces and evacuation shelters and what to do in case of a lockdown without developing a bunker mentality; or of simply feeling secure that a morning's goodbye is not a final farewell because of some idiot with a grudge and a weapon.

Parenting is hard enough, growing up is hard enough, to not need the added dose of fear and worry. I remember making sure to zig-zag randomly when walking in public back in 2002 during the time of the DC sniper attacks (several of which were right here almost literally in my family's backyard). I never thought that I'd have to try to come up with a non-scary way to teach my niece the same behavior, but that thought has recently refused to go away.  As of about an hour ago, her biggest worry is that she's going to be really tired because she has an intense dance camp/workshop this week, so we're not discussing the latest news stories with her.

One can only hope to not become part of the next story.  Stay safe, youse guys.