Alana arrived, as my dad put it, at 11:05 last night. 6lbs, 5 oz.
I used to wonder why people were so interested in communicating the weight of newborns. But what else can you say about them?
So there it is: Alana. I suppose it's good that I wasn't consulted, as I myself would be uncomfortable with a name that seems to want so much to be a palindrome. Alananala will be good when she runs off and joins an ashram. And I dislike both the New England and the Pittsburgh pronunciations of "aunt." I don't suppose my sister will let her call me "Zia Sally," if my name were Sally, but "zia" is Italian for aunt, and I think its exoticism will make her, Alana, more inclined to visit me.
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Accuse me of missing the point entirely if you'd like, but I thought you might be interested to know what sort of dog Alana would most likely have been if she were a 6.5 lb dog.
So here are some breeds and average weights:
Affenpinscher 6-8
Italian Greyhound 6-10
Maltese 5-9
baby (pup-pup) Alana might also be a slightly fat member of one of the following breeds:
Yorkshire 6
Toy Fox Terrier 6
Pomeranian 4-6
All the best, Pterry
So: /ahhnt/ instead of /eahnt/. That is, rhyming with "font" and not "slant"? But /eahnt/ is an insect, not a relative. I like /ahhnt/.
But when I talk about specific aunts, I say /eahnt/ Jan. Or /eahnt/ Ghyneth.
I can't say /ahhnt/ because I'm from Pittsburgh and it'd be disingenuous. What I need is a kinship term that means "most highly revered elder sister of mother."
"/eahnt/ Jan" is necessary because "/ahhnt/ Jan," I think, represents a juxtaposition of phonemes that doesn't exist in English. Although the surname "Moran?" Or even "orange?" Or "long stand."*
Pterry, awesome. I think that as long as we're going to keep getting this information, what we need to do is start placing bets on weight and length of newborns.
*An ex-boyfriend had interned at Bell Labs way way back in the day, and apparently a common prank on the newbies was to have them go downstairs to the supply counter and ask for a long stand. The person manning the counter would then disappear into the back for an indeterminate amount of time. Um. That sounded really clever when I was an undergraduate.
Congrats. But wouldn't her name within the confines of this blog be A. - which is, technically, a palindrome.
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