boy girl girl boy

When I started kindergarten 23 long years ago at St. Philip's in Northport, I had my first real experience with "gender" issues.

At least in my memory, I had a fairly asexual childhood. I was free to play with masculine and feminine toys -- Care Bears and Star Wars action figures. To me, there was only a very murky boundary between girl stuff and boy stuff -- and many of my friends were girls.

Little Brooke, Beth, and Joanna and I would sing "ring around the rosy" at the beach -- I had no awkward feelings of being out of place.

At school though, my pretty looks -- similar to Marta's -- and typical early 80s bowl haircut, perhaps even my name "Just-een", invited criticism from guys with more masculine, war-related toys and names like Greg and Mike.

I clearly remember being excommunicated from and ridiculed by this little masculine group for being too girlish. I put up with it for a long time, but even then I was bigger than all the little bullies. One day I told Greg or Mike or whomever that if he called me a girl one more time, I would throw his little 5-year-old butt out the window (our class was on the second floor). Oddly enough, I don't remember hearing anything else out of him. I bet I failed to get a sticker that day at the end of class.

Fast forward two and a half decades and Marta -- who cut her hair off last winter -- is standing in my shoes. Except this time it's Marta that has to deal with little shitheads -- probably named Greg or Mike -- who tell her she looks like a boy!

I've tried to foster an asexual environment for my daughter because, in the end, I think it makes you more open to the world if you are free to pick and choose what clothes to wear or what cartoons to like. It just happens that Marta likes to wear pink dresses and watch cartoons about princesses. And they call her a boy.

Ha. Knowing my daughter, they're lucky her elementary school is only one story high.

everybody's talkin'?

"How many words does she know?" asked a friend. "Mine knows four."

His daughter is a few months younger than Anna. I guess I should feel competitive in these situations, but I can't. I am not sure how many words Anna knows, or that I can pass off as her "vocabulary" in the presence of others.

At this point, she is capable of saying the word "emme" (mommy) when she really desires her mother. At times in the past, she would say the word "õde" (sister). "Sister" is a hard word to say, so I have watered it down to "sissy," but still, no "sissy" from the lips of Anna.

Anna knows the word for "nose" -- "nina" -- and can point to my nose when Epp asks her where it is. She is also familiar with all the funny body parts. Last night, as I lay in bed, she lifted up my shirt and stuck her finger in my bellybutton.

Haunting all situations is the mysterious "adn." We have thought for sometime that "adn" is Anna's way of saying "Justin" -- sort of like j U s T i N -- if you will. But I am told that she says it when I am not around. It's a multipurpose word. When I was a child, I called my father -- John -- "Nin."

Anna, though, is quite communicative. She talks a lot, and when she does talk, she sounds a bit like Porky Pig -- lots of "lada lada lada lada" and "oodle oodle oodle oodle." Those are words too, right?

the conversations couples have

The other day we were in the car with Tiia and Paul. "Paul" is what Marta's name most likely would have been had she been born a fierce viking instead of a sparkly princess. This prompted the following dialogue:

Epp: What do you think we would have named Marta had she been a boy?

Justin: I think we were leaning towards "Paul Martin."

Epp: But Paul is taken. What would we call a boy now?

Tiia: Peeter!

Justin: Peeter sounds nice in Estonian, but in English it gets annoying. Don't touch that Peter. Stop doing that, Peter. It's time to go to bed, Peter. Plus my dad would have some kind of mental breakdown.

Tiia: I don't think Peter sounds bad in English at all.

Justin: Martin sounds bad in English, too. It can never be Martin; it's always "Marty," and, in New York, it's "Mah-ty."

Epp: We'll we have agreed to use family names. If you veto Peeter and Martin, then I veto Sam. What are we left with?

Justin: Well, we are all stocked up on Franks. Is Vincent a name in Estonia?

Epp and Tiia: What name?

Justin: Vincent. It sounds good to yell out a window, "VIN - CENT!"

Epp: I don't think my grandma would even know that one. She'd have to write it down on a sheet of paper just so she could tell the neighbors.

Justin:Well, that's the problem with using family names. There are no Salvatores, Gennaros, or Dominicks in Estonia, are there? You don't know anyone named Dominic, right?

Epp and Tiia: What name?

Justin: Dominic. Dom-i-nic.

Epp: What's Toomas in Italian?

Justin: Tomasso

Epp: Well, what are we left with? Karl? John ... Johannes?

Justin: Well, my grandfather was Jerry, and he had three brothers, George, Robert, and John. How about Georg?

Epp: George as in George Bush? No. What about Fred?

Tiia: Eh.

Justin: Fred sounds like a cool old guy, but I can't imagine him being a cool young guy.

Epp: Tell me about the Fred in your family.

Justin: His father operated a foundry and he was born in Ontario but they moved to Montreal. Somehow he wound up ranching and met my great-grandmother's sister who was in Wild West Shows and moved to New York.

Epp: Her sister?

Justin: Yep. They had two kids; then she died and he married my great-grandma and had five more. Ah, the Irish.

Epp: That happened on both sides of your family?!

Justin: Yes.

Epp: What about Eerik, after my grandfather? Maybe it sounds too Germanic?

Justin: That's the problem with Estonian names. It's all Ragnars and Dagmars.

Epp: I like Fred Erik

Justin: But in English it's one name. Frederik.

Epp: But I like it as two names.

Justin: But it's one name.

Tiia: I don't like Fred, but it sounds nice as Fred Erik.

and so on ...

UPDATE: There is now an official Sarah Palin baby name generator. The mother of Track, Bristol, Piper, Willow, and Trig, has given it her blessing. According to the generator, if she was my mother, my name would be "Stag Tonnage Palin."

marta goes to school

"Anna can come to school too! She can come in my backpack and play with toys while I am at school!"

new babes with interesting names

A lot of babies have popped out this year. May I introduce to you:

Finn Ericksen, born 28 April 2008














Averie Matthews, born 30 July 2008













Tallin Gray, born 22 August 2008














Note how they are all sleeping. Being a newborn is hard work! All of these babies were also a little early. That's funny, because Marta was supposed to be born in January, but she came out December 30, and Anna was due for the last days of July, but was born on July 20. Maybe their due date predictions aren't as precise as we'd like them to be.

one month

So it's been about a month since we last saw Marta at JFK. Despite some pretty heavy emotions prior to our departure, I think we made the right decision. Marta has had hot fun in the summertime in New York.

We speak to Marta almost everyday on the telephone. She seems very busy. So I am not particularly distressed about her being so faraway because I know she is having fun.

Things are quieter around here though. A certain spark is missing. There's no more begging and pleading to get things done. No more temper tantrums. No more unbridled excitement over doing things as mundane as eating ice cream. Marta is the little southern girl in our lives -- she brings storms and sunshine and spice. That's why she was sent to live in our house -- with Justin the stinging scorpion and Epp the crabby crab (and Anna the little pincher).

By the way, I now have a little thing for Annas in my heart. I was looking for a hotel in Helsinki and I found a reasonably priced one called Hotel Anna on Annankatu (Anna Street). I just can't resist staying there. How could I turn down Hotel Anna?