I had picked out a name for my first born son back when I was in college. I recall being at work and hearing a mother yelling after her son, "Blake!" He wasn't listening, but the name stuck with me. Later, when I was pregnant for the first time, I shared it with my handsome husband and he said, of course, "We'll see."
My husband's family, of the Jewish faith, shared the tradition of naming a new-born after a family member who had recently passed. I was told that if you use the first initial of that person's first name, it will give them eyes in heaven to see.
As it turned out, my father-in-law passed shortly before my beautiful boy was born. His name was Robert, but we called him Bob. So to stick with Jewish tradition, we needed a "B" name. Blake fit the bill!
Then it came to the middle name. On my side of the family we have Japanese middle names. However, since I picked Blake's first name, my husband insisted that he should be able to select the middle name. He chose David, after his grandfather. I really liked the sound of Blake David, so was in agreement.
We went by the same set of rules for baby number two. We started off with my husband's favorite name for a girl, Melissa. Since he selected our princess' first name, I chose Rei for her middle name. Rei, meaning lovely and inspirational, is also part of my mother's middle name, Reiko, and satisfied our Japanese tradition.
It was really fulfilling to be able to combine our preferences with our families' traditions to create our children's names. But it's ironic that after such careful thought and consideration, my kids really only hear their full names when they're being disciplined!
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