Sunday, October 27, 2013

Name It

Sharing the same last name—Heiman—with my kids and husband at the time was fun. I took pride in teaching my little ones how to spell, write and pronounce their name, and I got a kick out of the excitement their grandparents showed when the kids mastered these feats.  I also appreciated that our name was a fairly obvious clue for outsiders to make the connection that we’re family, for those times our looks didn’t do the trick. 

When my kids’ dad and I divorced, I went back to my maiden name and, upon remarriage, was happy to add David’s and his kids’ last name, Minches.  These alterations to my name took some getting used to.  With Heiman, periodically I had to spell the name, as it was often confused with its homonym HYMAN.  If I detect confusion with Minches, I simply say “inches with an M in front. For the most part, it’s been a smooth ride overall.   

Every now and then, however, a situation creeps up reminding me that the primary tool for others to link my kids to me is no longer in place.

One such time occurred when I attended an Open House for my synagogue, where I had been a member for about 20 years.  Since I was on the membership committee, it was my job to reach out to potential new members.  I immediately found two fairly unfamiliar young women deep in discussion, so I waited for one to take a breath, and then I extended my hand and very proudly tried out my new name, “Hi, I’m Judy Minches.”  They seemed a bit unsure of what I said—I may have swallowed half of ‘Minches’—so I said the routine “inches with an M in front,” and all was well.   

Once we got the pleasantries out of the way, Betsy went back to telling Eleanor (names have been changed to protect the innocent) that she experimented with a new babysitter for her son and now all he wants is for the teen to hang out again.  As my kids were of babysitting age and not in need of a babysitter, I patiently waited for this topic to end but, as time went on, Betsy became so very animated about her great find that I decided to excuse myself from the conversation.  Just as I was about to walk away, I heard Eleanor ask what the babysitter’s name was and Betsy answered, “Michael Heiman.”

WHOA. Ding Ding Ding. “That’s my son!” I shouted (by the way, he’s OK with my using his name).  Betsy laughed somewhat nervously, appearing to have concluded that I was indeed one of the older crazy ladies she was warned about. They dutifully smiled and nodded but went back to talking about this kid.  MY kid.       

“Did you say Michael Heiman?” I rather loudly asked.  Betsy said, “Yes. He’s such a nice boy.”  Proudly, I said, “That nice boy is my son.”  She said “Oh, NO!  His mother is Edith Heiman” (as you probably guessed, I changed her name as well).

Betsy’s forceful retort even had me momentarily fooled.  Mike Heiman is my son, not Edith’s, right?  Of course he is, I assured myself.  Edith is Mike’s stepmom. I’m the real thing.  In an effort to correct this misconception, the crazy lady reiterated, "Edith married Mike’s dad but is not Mike’s mom.  I am!”

I realized I was transforming this Open House event from something fuzzy and warm to something downright weird for these newcomers, but honestly, I couldn’t help myself. 


After all, I wanted credit for what I’ve done right in the world.

3 comments:

  1. Very nice blog. I, too, took the name of my second husband after the death of my first husband. Sometimes I feel a sense of identifiable difference, as you describe in your blog, when I need to establish that I am my children's mother. In my case, however, their father is not around, so it is like my last "link" to my deceased husband (that they share his last name).

    Recently I was going to order one of those ABC Art pictures where the letters of your name are pictures of everyday items in the shape of different letters. I realized that there are people with two different names in our family, and I did not want to hurt my childrens' feelings by just putting my new last name, so I did not order it. It made me a little sad. I make a point to put both of our last names on our return address labels at Christmas time to make sure I acknowledge my children and their last name.

    And, as we approach the marriage of my daughter, there is the issue of how to word the invitation. I have done the research, and there are definitely etiquettes for every imaginable situation, but they all seem so disconnected; nothing blends nicely to imply that my husband, my daughter's step-father, is a big part of her life, but still recognizes that her father is not here to share this wonderful occassion. At least nothing that would be simply phrased on a wedding invitation.

    Thanks for sharing your thoughts on names.

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  2. I can totally related in a slightly different way. Because I had adopted a child when I was single, giving her my maiden name, I did not change my last name when I eventually married. To me, I wanted to keep the same last name as my daughter. My husband understood that decision and there have never been any issues.

    However, people still get confused. First off, why don't the mother and child have the same last name as the father? Why is the daughter Chinese-looking when her parents don't look Asian? Why does she call her father Joe instead of Dad? It's amazing to think that in 2013 that people still expect the same non-divorcing, non-adopting, same-looking, same-last-name-having families from the 1940s! Jeez folks. Look around. The world has changed in every way. There are even families that are not related in ANY way but still consider themselves a family. Get used to it and don't look at us like we're the strange ones.

    Great blog, Judy, that sparked an annoyance I never really vocalized before :)

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    Replies
    1. I so agree. And to take it one step further, we should no longer expect that a name designates a religion or ethnicity.

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