Pet Names

Posted by chrystibella on November 19, 2008

My cat’s name is Buddy, but I doubt that I have ever called him by his name. To me he is Boopy, Boopty-doo, BooBoo or Boopty-doopty.

I’ve never been one to use pet names or talk baby talk to anyone. There are only a few exceptions and I have to really feel a great deal of affection in order to stoop to the rediculas such as this. For I am not sappy, nor do I ususally stand for such behaviour. I have never referred to a love interest as Baby, Honey, Sweetheart, etc. I would feel embarrassed. Don’t get me wrong, I am a mush on the inside. I cry at the drop of a hat and I’m one of those who needs a box of kleenex when watching movies that pull on the heart strings.

The only human beings that I ever had pet names for were my brother and one of my sisters. My brother was given an unconventional name when he was born. Jean Phillipe. His name was never meant to be pronounced as Gene, it is the French name for John. My mom nicknamed him Jody because she loved the show Family Affair with Buffy and Jody. My step-father called him Jo-Po. Which he pronounced Yo-Po. So as an adult he now uses his given name, Jean, but he pronounces it John and everyone in his adult life calls him John. Except for me and my mom. He’ll always be Jody to me. It’s an affectionate name and it is who I relate to when I think of him. I know many siblings who as adults still call their brothers and sisters by the nicknames they had as kids. I have a friend who calls his sister, Denice, Neicy. Since I am around them a lot, I have found myself referring to her as Neicy as well.

When I was 10 years old, my mom gave birth to my sister. My mom had endometriosis and had to have a cesarean. When she was getting ready to come home from the hospital, her stitches tore and her abdomen opened. It was a nasty experience and in the end my mom had to remain in bed and could not get up even to tend to my sister as she had gauze and dressings on her wound and could not risk it coming open again. I stayed home from school for two weeks and at 10 years old, I was making formula (from scratch), and taking care of an infant, from diaper changes to bathing. I was the one who got up for the 2 am feedings. I would get everything and bring it to my mom as she had to remain in bed. Through all of this, I developed a deep attachment to my sister. I loved her a protected her fiercely.

A few years later our family was stationed in Germany. (Step-father was an officer in the Air Force) My mom had to come back to the states for my grandfather’s funeral and she again became ill due to the endometriosis and this time she had to have surgery which kept her in the states for several months. I was 13 and had to take on full responsibility for my sister. She was with me 24 hours a day. She was barely 3 years old at the time. My step-father didn’t pay much attention to us. He went to work, came home and he really didn’t bother to care for us kids. My brother and my other sister were cared for by the neighbors as we lived on an air force base in Germany and everyone in our housing community was like family.

My mom says she was receiving letters from people on our base about how us kids were being neglected and they were doing everything they could to help out, but since my step-dad was an officer, there wasn’t a lot that they could do, so they kept my mom informed and watched over us kids.

I worked at the commissary on base as a grocery bagger for tips and what I earned there was enough to feed my sister and I. We could go to the chow-hall on base and eat as much as we wanted for less than a buck. They never made me pay for two, I just paid ninety nine cents and went through the buffet line and got enough for both of us.

Movies on base were twenty-five cents and they never charged me for her, so I was able to go with my friends. There was a time though when her legs were hurting her and I had to leave because she was crying. Another time, I was at a dance and took her with me and she got scared so I had to leave and take her home. It was not easy caring for a toddler when I was only 13 years old. I was the oldest and was always there to help my mom. She could depend on me and I felt grown up to be able to follow through.

Fortunately this all occurred during the summer so school was out. It was a long, long few months without my mom. My sister started calling me “mama”. I discouraged that and I don’t know where she got the idea to call me that. I told her not to call me that. It was too weird and I was already getting so tired of having her with me constantly with no break. I could not be a normal kid with a three year old attached at the hip. For all intense purposes I had become like a mother. Hence, the pet name.

My pet name for my sister was Tootie. It all began when I was about 11 and my sister would follow me everywhere. One day, and I am NOT proud of this, but remember, I was a kid, I called out, “Come here shit head.” and she came running with delight. I thought it was so funny. I know it wasn’t and to this day she holds it against me for calling her that. Although she doesn’t really remember it. It’s just a story that has lasted over the years. I don’t remember how the name Tootie came to be, but it was around that time that I started to call her that and it stuck. To me, it was endearing. My “Tootie” was just the sweetest child.

For me, the pet name that I called my sister was just like when I call out to my precious kitty cat that I love so much. I don’t call out, “Buddy.” I call out with affection, “Where’s my Boopy?” Sappy, I know. <sigh> That’s just the way I am.

Pet names are not unusual and I have seen many families carry on from children into adulthood speaking of special people in their lives whether it’s an aunt, uncle, grandparents and yes, siblings who are known to them under a specific name given of love, carried forward as if to say “YOU” are special to me. “YOU” know me like no one else does. “YOU” know “ME”.

My brother used to drive me nuts and there were times I felt like I hated him. There are many more things I remember that he did that showed his true spirit. I used to help my mom do the easter baskets so I didn’t have one, I just got my share of the candy. One easter morning I woke up and my brother had taken candy from his basket and made me an easter basket because he thought I didn’t get visited by the easter bunny.

I picked on him, but God help anyone else who did. There were a few times when I came to his rescue. Man, I wished I had a big brother or sister to protect me. Nope, I was the protector. And, I was the tormentor at times too. It’s just the way it is in the sibling world. =)

Yes, the people we grew up with lived the same ups and downs with the same family, under the same roof. We grow into adults and we have our adult lives and we change and grow out of the person we were as kids. Yet, I have to believe that in some ways there is a certain sense of gratification in all of us because we have someone in our life who remembers the milestones of our childhood because they were there with us.

I no longer call my sister Tootie but sometimes I call her the “Pootin Lady” and she gets so MAD! LOL! No harm is meant by it. All of us have fart stories. One time they caught me on tape and played it for everyone. It was really funny though. See, we all know each other’s most embarrassing stories too.

Pet names are given to those who remain the closest to our hearts.