Monday, October 4, 2010


I once worked with a girl from England named Ruth. She had a speech impediment and everytime she had to introduce herself, she had to clarify that the correct way to pronounce her name was not roof. She had a great sense of humour about it and I found her more endearing because of it.  I only knew Ruth for about three months, but I thought of her nearly ten years later when we were deciding what to name our first born. I could hear her British accent saying "shame really vat my mum didn't know I wouldn't be able to pronounce my own name right."  I took that into account when we decided that the little rootie poot booter in my belly was no one else besides Rylee. 
It gave me sheer delight to hear her say her name for the first time "Wowee." Yes indeed. Wow wee. That progressed into Wywee. And for a while I secretly hoped she would call herself Wylee. Because she is very wiley. But no, RyEEE is how it's been for quite some time. Until last night, when she just started saying it like a big girl. Now she has it all. No fear of meeting people and the ability to pronounce her name correctly. There really is nothing that can stop her now. 

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