Finding Nimo—The Trials & Tribulations of Naming Our Kids

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was six months pregnant, snuggled on the couch with my husband, watching a 1950’s remake of the classic Jules Verne novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

            "If it’s a boy we should call him Nemo,” my husband suggested, referring to the book’s renegade submarine Captain.

            Keep in mind, this was two years before the Disney film Finding Nemo, and I’d never heard the name before, but I was smitten. Not only did it sound strong and commanding, symbolising what we wanted for our child (he’ll be an explorer, forging his own path!) but I’ve always been a big fan of unusual monikers.

            Call me crazy, but as the only Christina I knew growing up, I revelled in my uniqueness and never wanted my children to be one of five in their class.

            Many parents see that as a positive thing—they’ll never get teased, they’ll always fit in—and the protective parent in me totally gets that. But I didn’t want my child to just fit in. I wanted him to hold his own and, if he did get bullied (as so many gleefully assured us he would), learn to stand up for himself and bounce back.

            I was here to teach my child strength and resilience, not make decisions based on fear and “what ifs”. Besides, we live in the hippie hinterland of a place called Byron Bay where names like Lotus and Maayan are almost ho-hum.

            Cut to three months later and no one we knew bat an eyelid when we named our newborn Nemo. No one, that is, except my mum. It wasn’t so much the name that had her spooked, it was the spelling (it’s ‘omen’ spelt backwards in case you hadn’t noticed).

            We promptly changed it to ‘Nimo’ and that was that.

            Or so we thought.

            Two years later a famous clownfish swam onto our screens and the name took on a whole new resonance. Vocal critics suddenly thought it was “cute!”, our toddler became King of the Kids at kindie and we even appeared in the local newspaper.

            Yet my husband and I were aghast. Not only would people assume we’d named our son after a Disney character (the horror! the irony!) but Pixar had irrevocably changing its meaning from commanding to… cute?!

            We didn’t see that one coming.

Naming your child can be fraught 

You never know how people are going to react or what’s around the corner. There’s a girl at Nimo’s school whose parents must have had the very best intentions when they named her after the mythical goddess Isis.

            If, like us, you dare to be creative or original, there’s always someone, somewhere, who’ll scoff and tell you how “cruel” you’re being or how “they’ll never become Prime Minister with that name, you know!”

            And once upon a time they had a point. Pre-2009, several highly publicised studies showed that people naturally discriminated in favour of those with common names, both in the classroom and at work.*1

            Well not any more, folks. A 2016 study found no evidence that employers discriminate anymore based on names.*2 Thanks to globalisation and the growth of white collar jobs, there’s been a societal rise in ‘individualism’ which means less of us are picking one of the Top 20 names for our kids.*3

            Where once we chose names based on popularity, tradition, religion, ideology or aspirations (names like Joseph Jr, William and Grace), we’re increasingly choosing quirky names or, heaven forbid, quirky spelling.

            And we can thank the likes of Cameron Diaz, Oprah Winfrey and Barack—who says you need a traditional name to be Top Dog?—Obama. Interestingly, researchers claim the US President has created “the Obama effect”, inspiring more parents to give their babies ethnic-sounding names.*4

            The fact is we all have different motives for naming our kids, and it’s this difference that makes society so rich. Whatever you decide on, it should be done with the best intentions, needs to work whether they’re four or 40, and it wouldn’t hurt to choose a benign middle name should you be thwarted by Hollywood or foreign terrorists (Nimo has Jacob to fall back on).            

            While we chose a more traditional name for our second son, Felix, I wouldn’t change Nimo’s name if I had my time over, but perhaps we should ask the person who’s had to live with it for 16 years.

            “I like my name,” Nimo assures me. “People always remember it. Some think it’s cool and some think it’s weird but I don’t really care what they think. I’m just glad you didn’t call me something boring. I like being unique.”

            Aye aye Captain!

xo Christina

*1: www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/03/090310120357.htm

*2: www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/04/160426162606.htm

*3: www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150205142953.htm

*4: www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/06/160620085045.htm

Why Switching Kids Off Is Like Pulling Teeth (And as Good As Brushing Daily)

*** WARNING***

Rant to follow. Those without children or who aren't up for a lecture may want to bail now

Hey, fellow parents,  I want to get off the topic of books for a moment (although we'll come back to it, I promise) and I want to throw some questions at you, if that's okay.

Tell me, when you were a kid, did your parents insist you come inside when it got dark or late? Did they insist you eat your vegetables or brush your teeth or do your homework even when you didn't want to and your best mate never did? Did they force a bed time on you and insist you turn out your light?

What about school? Did they force you to get up at a certain hour and go to an institution that you may even have hated? Hell, none of your friends liked it either, but you went to that school, you sat through those classes, and you came home again. And they made you do it even when you were getting older, like 16 and 17 and, for some of you, 18—an adult!

But you survived, right? Not only that, you were the better for it.

In fact, thanks to all those rules, above, you were a better person all round. You were healthier and more rested, you were safer and more interesting, you were more educated and more likely to become a successful member of society.

So tell me this, then. How come you can't pay the same courtesy to your kids? How come so many of you refuse to put boundaries around the one thing that dominates every single child's life at the moment and is crushing them on a daily basis.

Yep, you know exactly what I'm talking about: Digital devices.

Now, before some of you freak out, let me quickly qualify: I know that some of you DO place boundaries around your child's use of devices. I know some of you do NOT advocate a 'free for all' and may even be madly nodding your head as I write this, but I also know you are in the minority and I am not talking to you. Instead I congratulate you and beg you to keep up the good fight.

No, I'm talking to those many parents who think that removing a child's devices at night or making them get off them at a certain time is either too damn hard or completely unnecessary or, hell, bordering on fascism. It's mean! All their friends are on them, they'll miss out! Besides, they hate it when you take it off them, and get very, very cranky, so you'd rather just keep the peace. It's not really hurting them, right? They seem to be okay, they're managing it fine, so why be so harsh? Get with the program, it's all just part of peer group interaction, it's today's mode of socialising, it's just the modern world, you old fuddy-duddy!

Not my world. Not anymore.

Two weeks ago, when the new Aussie school year began, my husband and I began a new ritual, too. Fearing our children were quickly becoming addicted to their iPhones, and rarely seeing them spend any time doing anything other than staring at a small screen, we were getting increasingly concerned. It wasn't just that they were wasting time on other people's creativity (because there's lots to love about the internet, but not when it's stopping them from engaging in their own creativity). Their devices were also draining them. They were clearly going on them after lights out, and waking up moody (even for moody teenagers) and becoming quickly disengaged and in trouble at school.

So we took action.

Each evening at 9:00 p.m. we now remove every single screen. Not just out of their hands, but out of their bedrooms entirely, so they spend the last hour—just one measly hour or so—before sleep reading, drawing, playing their guitars or, even better, doing absolutely nothing. We give them the space to become like the person who invented the internet in the first place. Space to think and imagine and grow.

It was just one little hour before official "lights out", but of course, they freaked out. The first night they were both very grumbly, scowling, cursing, carrying on, but by night two, the younger one began handing his gadget over happily enough. He's just 12 and hasn't had his iPhone for long. He clearly wasn't addicted.

The 15-year-old was a very different story.

Like wrenching the crack pipe out of a junkie's hands, taking my older son's iPhone and laptop has been nothing short of traumatic. At first he blatantly refused, then he railed, threw a tantrum, stormed out of the house, sat on our roof for an hour. It was hard. It was exhausting. It was emotionally draining. I felt like he had morphed into a terrible toddler again and I began to regret the whole process. But we stayed strong.

By day four—four, people!—he had settled down. He was over the worst of it. I even caught him sitting at his desk painting that evening, his iPhone untouched on his bed. And it wasn't even 9:00 p.m. Earlier he had tinkled on our piano and jumped on the trampoline. It was a big difference to his usual behaviour, staring, mesmerised by some inane antics on YouTube or swapping emojis with his mates.

I know my boys don't like having their gadgets removed, they may not even understand why we're doing it, but they're surviving and flourishing regardless. They haven't had a loss of friends, haven't missed out on any parties or conversations that really matter. They're getting more interesting though, and a hell of a lot more sleep.

Last night, my eldest said, "I feel smarter this year, I seem to be finding school easier than ever, I wonder why?"

My husband and I exchanged a small victory smile.

Alone again?

Yet when I talk about all of this with friends, my hubby and I are still one of the only parents in our sons' peer groups who remove their devices at night. And most of those parents are stunned that we even try. I'm a little tired of my boys telling me they are the only ones in their gang who are "punished" like this. I'm a little tired of parents being so "in awe" of my husband and I for being "so strong" or "so harsh" or "so amazing".

And to be honest, it's annoying the crap out of me, because the more of us who do this, the easier it will be to do, the less amazing it will seem. And the sooner it will become habit for all our kids, like brushing your teeth at night or eating your vegies, or getting up and going to school whether you like it or not. They will just do it because that's the rules and everybody does it.

I'm also impatient with arm-chair psychologists telling me this is just the way modern kids socialise. They're welcome to socialise via social media. I have no problem with that. I use it, too (you get this is an online blog, right?), just not all day and all night. And if all my sons' mates were forced off their gadgets at 9:00 p.m. they wouldn't miss out on a thing because nobody else would be on it, right? (And remember: we socialised by phone but that didn't mean we were allowed to call our mates any damn time we liked! When did socialising become more important than sleep and school and sanity?)

Your kids do not want you to confiscate their devices. That does not mean you shouldn't.

Curbing your child's use of devices is not just smart, it's safe, it's healthy and it's VITAL if you want them to actually develop into someone a little like you or the people you admire—independent, creative, interesting, healthy, safe, happy, well adjusted...

I am so glad I grew up without screens. There wasn't even television in Papua New Guinea where I was born. If there was, I'm not sure I would be writing books right now, I just don't know. I do not know if I would have developed my imagination as I have, I don't know if I would have had time to just stare and be so extraordinarily bored I had to come up with my own entertainment. Stories.

I do know this, though: As an adult, I would not have written eleven books if I spent all my downtime staring at my iPad, which is my default device and which I, too, feel strongly drawn to. I know I have to switch off to switch into my creativity, or nothing gets done, and so I force myself to. So why aren't we forcing that on our kids, too? Why aren't we allowing them the same courtesy?

Because at the end of the day, you're actually doing your child a disservice by being so lenient. It's lazy parenting to say, "They'll be right, they'll be fine" because, well, how do you know that? Maybe yours will.

But maybe they won't.

And maybe your teeth would not have rotted if your parents hadn't forced you to brush them twice a day and maybe you wouldn't have been assaulted if you'd been allowed to stay out after dark, but aren't you glad your parents didn't risk it and made you do those things anyway?

Be bold, be brave! 

It's hard to wrench those devices out of your kid's hands, but I promise you this: they will thank you for it later. Because there is no way it can hurt. No way in a lifetime.

Don't believe me? I'll leave you with a quote from a beautiful young woman who stayed with us recently. She's now 21, the daughter of old friends. She's studying at university and playing in a band and has a lovely boyfriend and a healthy body and a fantastic attitude to life.

Over dinner one night while she was here, she said, "Mum and Dad used to make me put my device outside of my room at night. Gee I used to hate it. But in retrospect I 'm so glad they did."

My kids are going to be glad too, they just might not like me for a little while. I think it'll be worth it.

Happy (offline) reading everyone!

xo Christina

Is ANY book better than NO book when it comes to kids?

Nobody likes a smug parent, let's be frank. There's really nothing more blood-boiling than a 'back-seater' telling you how to raise your own, but I have to confess I came scarily close to morphing into one at a doctors' surgery one summer's day.

I was flicking through a trashy woman's magazine, waiting patiently for my GP to finish up with an old bloke and his worrying cough, when a man walked in with a boy who looked about 10 years of age.

After taking their seats across from me, the boy began to fidget, then twiddle his thumbs and glance about. Within minutes he was up and helping himself to one of many books that had been piled high on a bright red, plastic side table just for kids. I recognised the book instantly, it was Tootle by Gertrude Crampton, an oldie, but a cherished childhood favorite of mine. I gave him a wide smile, which he returned as he settled back into his seat.

Not so his dad.

"What're you reading that for?" the man grunted. The boy looked up from the bright, inviting pages towards his father's dark frown. "That's a baby book. You're too old for that crap."

The light in the boy's eyes instantly extinguished. He glanced at Tootle, almost as though hoping the rebellious locomotive might whisk him off into the wild meadows beyond, then shrugged, closed the book and put it back where he found it.

Then he sat down, empty-handed, and began fidgeting again. And so he remained for the next 20 minutes, doing nothing, reading nothing, staring blankly at the wall.

Never before have I wanted to cry out with such anguish as I did that balmy summer's day. Never have I felt so aggrieved for a child. I couldn't believe what I had heard.

Did a father really belittle his child for reading a book?

Okay, sure, it's a Little Golden Book, and maybe his son was capable of reading War and Peace, I don't know. And yes, the moral of the story is questionable—who cares if a little train goes off the rails from time to time?—but here's something I do know: reading anything, even a 'baby book' about an anarchic choo-choo, has to be better than reading nothing but the disappointment on your father's face.

What kind of a person does that?

Sure, it's not child abuse, not in the textbook sense, but in my book it comes pretty damn close. Books are not just a dreamy concept for chardonnay-swilling bleeding hearts or vested-interest authors like myself. Endless studies have proven that books of any kind help create smarter, happier, more socially competent human beings. A 20-year Nevada University study, for instance, found that no matter what a parent's background—rich, poor, illiterate or an Oxford graduate—those who have plenty of books in their house help boost their own child's education levels.*1

It's a fact.

Other research shows that reading to your child not only increases their brain activity, wordless picture books can enrich a toddler's language while all books can help children struggling with genuine social issues.*2

Boys in particular need an extra nudge, and I could bore you senseless with even more studies that show how far boys lag behind girls when it comes to books and reading, the gap only widening when the hormones kick in.*3

The haves and have nots
We tend to take literacy for granted in Western society and often waste time waxing lyrical about the 'right kind of book' for growing minds, yet reading of any kind can make an enormous difference to a young child. This stuff matters! A new Grattan Institute report from Australian teachers revealed that there can be as much as a six-year gap in any one classroom between students' educational levels.*4 Six years! That's staggering.

I know from my own experience, that when my eldest son started Kindergarten, his teacher, a veteran of 30 years, told me she can always spot the child who lives in a house without books. Not only were they behind on all literacy markers, some, she said, had no idea what to do with a book, which way the pages turned or what those funny scribbles were all about.

That breaks my heart, and not just because I'm a bleeding you-know-whatsie. Books aren't just educational bellwethers, they're bloody good fun! As a mother who grew weary under the piles of books my sons insisted we get through before lights out, it astounds me that some houses don't actually own one.

What do they do at bedtime? 
How do they soothe a crying child?
How do they entertain, terrify, intrigue and delight?

At my place, you'll find books scattered in every room, including the kitchen and toilet, as well as stacked high in the garage, floating about in both cars, and on every digital device, because, yes, books don't even need to be of the paper variety. If your child refuses to visit the library for some freebies, try downloading a bunch of ebooks onto his iPod. You'll find some for under a buck. Call into your local charity shop, ask the empty nester living down the road. At the very least, the local school should have some. It might take a little bit of effort, but the rewards are exponential.

Something to laugh at

Books don't need to be award-winning, they don't even need to be appropriate. According to another expert, this one in children's literature at the University of Illinois, comic books are just as sophisticated as other forms of literature in providing all the same benefits.*4 It's all about providing stories in which your child can live, learn and get lost.

So the next time your child opens a Batman comic, thumbs through a surf mag, or, heaven forbid, a 'baby book', don't discourage or criticise. Be thankful they're improving their brain, having fun, and becoming better members of society. Surely that's better than blasting someone's head off on PlayStation or twiddling the thumbs doing nothing?

Looking back

I never did pull that father up that day, but I did go home and make a solemn oath to the tiny little being that was nestled in my womb that summer. I swore I would offer him a wide and wonderful range of stories to read, and never complain when he chose something else entirely—even if that 'something else' was not to my liking. Then I sought out my tattered copy of Tootle and read aloud to him in the womb while his older brother nestled in happily beside us. But this time I left Tootle lolling in the meadow with his new mates. (No-one says you can't improvise!)

That unborn child is now my vivacious 11-year-old, roughly the same age as the boy in the surgery that day, and his favourite thing—off a soccer field, that is—is books. I cannot satiate his desire. His library card is chockers, his iPad overloaded, the school librarian is struggling to keep up.

Am I a smug mother? You bet I am, but I can't really take any of the credit. I give that to the likes of Gertrude Crampton and Tootle. Sure, the story's not perfect—I mean, come on, people, let the poor train play!—but who knew a steam engine with training wheels could be so powerful?

And as I watch my son get lost in the latest book of his choice (which these days centres around wimpy kids and psycho bums, it has to be said), I often wonder about the little boy in the surgery that day.

I dearly hope he managed to find his own pathway back to books before he became a father himself, with a loathing for books and a very tiny mind.

Happy, guilt-free, reading everyone!

xo Christina

Sources
*1: May 21, 2010 Source: University of Nevada, Reno http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/05/100520213116.htm
*2: April 25, 2015 Source: American Academy of Pediatrics http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/04/150425215617.htm
April 29, 2013 Source: University of Waterloo
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/04/130429164821.htm
August 12, 2013 Source: University of Cincinnati http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/08/130812121457.htm
*3: http://www.literacytrust.org.uk/assets/0001/4056/Boys_Commission_Report.pdf
*4: http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/2015/07/27/aust-lags-worlds-best-student-gap
http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/teachers-grapple-with-eightyear-gap-between-students-grattan-report-20150725-giki10
*5: November 6, 2009 Source: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, according to a University of Illinois expert in children's literature
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/11/091105121220.htm