you may not know this, but your given name is isaac. isaac silas to be exact. your mama and i were certain that if we ever had a little boy, we’d call him isaac. we kind of liked the double ‘a’ action happening in that name (it would nicely complement the little ‘c’ big ‘c’ in your last name), and we loved the fact that isaac means laughter. when we found out that you were an external american, you were already isaac.
your middle name was more difficult to decide upon. you were nearly isaac henry–henry was my father’s middle name after all–but then we found out that uncle g’s paternal grandfather had the middle name silas. as you already know, your uncle g and his father, your pop pop, are the men in your life. they are good men, kind men, gentle men. we wanted to honor that heritage of which you are now a part. and your middle name is our thank you to uncle g’s family for bringing you to us.
so yes, your name is isaac silas, but at the time of this writing, you are indisputably ziggy. a few weeks ago, your aunt kate performed a lovely blessing/christening/baptism for you in our home, much like she did for your sister. in preparation for the ceremony, she asked me why we call you ziggy. and here is what i told her: in utero, you were ziggy. your mama picked the name. ziggy stardust. you weren’t so much named after the actual character ziggy stardust as just the magic of the name. your existence was nothing but stardust to us, you know? (you will know. we’ll never stop reminding you.) it made us happy to say the word at all: ziggy ziggy ziggy. and when you were born, your personality just sort of fit all the emotion we poured into the name as we talked to you in my belly. silliness. joy. also, your sister loves to call you ziggy, and it’s ridiculously adorable to hear her do so. to be honest, son, you were doomed to be stuck with the name.
you own ‘ziggy’, sir. you’ve got this crazy tuft of hair that stands on end most days, and refuses to be subdued. you are the mellowest of babies–you go for days without crying at all–until you’ve reached the end of your patience, and then you are all fisticuffs, snorting and yelling. the end of your patience, by the way, occurs when a. you are very hungry and there is no discernible boob in the area, or b. when you are in the car and it is going too slow. combine a & b, and omg, ziggy, you are an absolute rock star with the screaming and flailing.
also, right now, you kind of resemble the cartoon character:
so there are you are, my boy. you are ziggy, zig, zigs (that one is all jude btw), or z. sometimes i whisper isaac in your ear so you do not forget that you are laughter. i do love the lilt of your ‘real’ name. your mama and i tell everyone that we will call you ziggy until you ask us not to. but we sort of hope you never do.
i love you,
ps welcome to the family. thanks for picking us, even though we’re nuts and call you ziggy.
your favorite thing: nursing.
your best friend, jimmy.
an actual photo with your mommy in it.
mister halloween jammies.
your sister adores you.
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