My daughter’s name. My husbands handwriting. My mother’s chagrin.

Picking your child’s name is a big responsibility. Picking a tattoo might be second. So, this allowed for some nice symmetry.

For the first several months of pregnancy, we agreed on nothing. Then we came to a list of three names. I was convinced we had to go to the hospital with three choices. Convinced. And I was sure we would know upon meeting her which was her name.

Maxine, my maternal grandmother’s name, wasn’t actually one of the originals but due to a late cut became a secret addition. And when she was born, she just was Maxine.

Well, a full day after she was born, she just was Maxine. We were tired.

For any turkey who wants to ask how I’ll feel if Maxine wants to get a tattoo someday…

- When you’re old enough

- Don’t get anything lame

- ‘Maxiney & Mommy’ has a nice ring to it