Handles

What is it about nicknames? You name someone something, a perfectly fine sounding name, and then you turn around and on a daily basis, call them something completely different. I guess it is our way of showing affection and creating an intimate bond with that person. Our family is very big into nicknames, so I am not blameless in this regard. We are always inventing some endearing and nonsensical name for each other and it seems that we have a fascination for rhyming and alliteration. Our kids anwser to Ry Ry, My My and Ky Ky for the most part. But, then they will answer to almost anything, because we do have trouble keeping the names straight. Most of the time when I am calling for one specific boy, I have to run through a litany of all three names before I get the name right. So, they all pretty much answer to "RyanMichaelKyleRyan"! And then there is my husband who was given the name John as a first name. Was he ever called that? Not really, no. Since the day he was born he has been called by his middle name, Patrick. It was enough to confuse and befuddle every school registrar he ever encountered, and continues to play havic with countless bureacratic agencies to this day.

When I was born, I was given the name Melissa Sykes Pray. There is an old story floating around that our surname was originally DuPre from the French, and that it had been changed when relatives made it to this country. So, that kind of explains my unusual last name. Fascination with last names seems to have been an affinity with my parents, as they gave all of their children middle names that were the last names of some ancestor. I was named after Thomas Sykes my great, great, great grandfather. In old tintypes he looks to be a formidable guy, so I have no idea what my mother was thinking at the time. My brother's middle name is Adams (we have some vague and distant relationship to the president) and my sister's middle name is Reeder, my mother's maiden name.

As a kid I always felt a little geeky about having kind of a weird name. Not only was it kind of strange to have Pray as my last name, but I got some unnecessary teasing about Sykes as my middle name. Growing up I only knew one other Melissa in my gradeschool. Again, I have no idea where my mother came up with the name. There is no history of any other Melissa's in the family. When asked, she just says she liked the name. I often secretly wonder if she were reading some novel at the time and came up with the name and just doesn't want to admit it. Looking back I don't know why I should have felt the slightest bit awkward about my name, seeing as I went to school with the likes of Chiara Niederhauser, Trina Mirstick and Cynthia Deskin. How I wish I could find Mrs. Niederhauser now and ask her where she came up with "Chiara", definitely Italian in origin, when the family clearly had its roots deeply planted in Germany!

I had several nicknames of endearment growing up. For better or for worse, one of my mother's favorites for me was and continues to be "Itsy Bitsy". It is written in my baby book. "Itsy Bitsy drank from a cup of milk today and then tipped it over her head and giggled and laughed." When I would come home from elementary school I would find my mother making peanut butter and raisin sandwiches for snacks and she would call out to me from the kitchen "How was your day, Itsy Bitsy?" Sometimes she still calls me this, despite that fact that I am all grown up and not feeling quite so itsy bitsy anymore. My mother also had this charming habit of referring to me as her "little legs". Mostly she called me this when she didn't feel like running up the stairs to get something she had left behind. Aside from those sweet little pet names, for the most of my life I was known as Missy. In fact, I let myself be called Missy all the way up until I graduated from college. I decided the summer that I left for graduate school that I would forever after be known as Melissa. To this day I can still separate friends from different walks of life based on what they call me. College & highschool friends still call me Missy. They think it is funny to hear me called Melissa, but work related friends and grad school buddies who all know me only as Melissa, snicker at the thought I was once a Missy.

My husband was kind of caught in the middle of my transition name period. He knew me first as Missy and then, when I boycotted that name, he was and continues to be at a bit of a loss as to what to call me. Oh, he refers to me as Melissa, to everyone else in the world, but he just never got the hang of calling me Melissa to my face. I think he thinks it sounds too formal for normal daily banter. As a result, he is constantly morphing my name into something short and funny. He refers to me as "Lis", "Lissa", "Lisser" "Psweetie" or simply "Hey Hon". My parents, brother and sister call me Missy. My kids call me mom. The children at the elmentary school call me Mrs. Muldoon. In one Italian forum I known as "Disegno" and in another "Disegnatrice". I guess I have gotten over feeling odd for having a weird name. I kind of like the distinction that comes with having a strange and unusual handle. As the years go by, I seem to be collecting more and more of them.


Itsy Bitsy


Me and mom