A mother. A daughter. A topic.
My Maiden name was Kram.
It was nice and short and went well with Cindy.
Cindy Kram.
Easy to remember, and easy to spell.
And the fun part of the name was that it was ”Mark” spelled backwards.
My dad named his manufacturing company “Mark Industries” (a nice little family inside joke). And, I’m pretty sure I have a cousin out there named Mark Kram (funny family huh?).
People used to tell me that my last name was almost certainly shortened from “Kramer” (a well known German name) when my grandfather immigrated to this country, but my dad denied it…adamantly…as did his dad.
But I didn’t care. I just thought it was cool that it was Mark spelled backwards.
Growing up, I never felt a strong attachment to the name. But I identified with it. I was Cindy Kram.
I guess, as a girl, I got the message early on that it was a temporary moniker that I’d someday shed for another, so don’t get too close. Boys are raised with the expectation that they will keep their last names and “carry on” the name throughout the generations, but none of that pressure (or expectation) is bestowed upon girls.
But I was raised in a pretty progressive family where most of the gender expectations were being challenged on a regular basis. So when it came to actually changing my name when I got married…I really had to think about whether or not I wanted a new name.
I felt like I could choose to take on a new name…or not, (which actually ended up causing me lots of angst).
Should I hold onto my given name and buck tradition? Did Cindy Kram carry an attachment to my heritage and history that I should hold on to? Did giving up my last name for a man mean that I wasn’t an independent woman? Did I want to have a different last name than my husband? Or… my (future) kids?
Finally…it came down to the most important question of all…did I like the name?
Carrillo. Cindy Carrillo.
It kind of flowed.
I liked the two “C’s.”
But I couldn’t roll my “rrrrrr’s” when saying the name (unless I used the phlegm in my throat) and felt a bit intimidated by a name that I knew carried a whole new ethnicity with it.
Most folks think its Italian, but it’s actually Hispanic. Or rather Spanish…as my mother-in-law used to tell me.
But even so, she said I didn’t have to role the “rrrrrrr’s.” She said they pronounced it with a hard “r” and “l” sound (Car-ril-lo)…not (Carrrrr-eee-yo).
So I tried it on. Played with it. Wrote it down. Practiced a new signature. Pretended that I was being introduced at a party, “I’d like you to meet Cindy Carrillo.”
And I started to like the way it felt.
Only then did I start to embrace the idea of taking on a new name with true enthusiasm (and let go of all the other stuff).
But not my mom.
She never really loved the name Kram herself (her maiden name was Dankner – so not all that wonderful on its own!), but I think she liked the married identity that the name brought to her. And that it was shorter than her maiden name (she loved having a full name that was only 7 letters – Del Kram). And (if truth be told)…that it was Jewish.
And Carrillo was not.
So she came up with an alternative that she carefully proposed to Brian and me.
She explained that since Brian was becoming a doctor…and we were now living in a time when women shouldn’t have to change their names to match their husband (ALWAYS the feminist)…she thought we BOTH should change our names to…
Cohen. A nice Jewish name.
Brian would be Dr. Cohen: a nice Jewish doctor.
Problem solved.
Except I kinda liked the whole Hispanic (sorry…Spanish) thing. It’s not often a blonde haired- blue eyed-Jew-from the suburbs of Detroit, could get a new layer to her identity without anyone judging her.
So I took the name Carrillo (mom ended up embracing the whole idea), with all its history and richness, and wore it with love and pride.
I never felt like I “gave up” Kram. I just wore Carrillo over Kram like the layering of a perfect outfit.
And…when Brian and I split up, I asked him if it would be ok if I kept Carrillo (I asked his mom too).
It had become a significant piece of my identity. I had two beautiful Hispanic (sorry…Spanish) kids with the name, and the name had been with me for almost as long as I had the name Kram, so it felt like it was mine.
So, I’ve kept it, and I’m glad I’m a Carrillo.
And a Kram.
P.S. Now that Ally is getting married…to a “Kohn” (I know, the irony is almost scary), I’m leaving her alone to make her own decision.
P.S.S. My mom would not.
First off, I’m changing this topic to “Should ALLY change her name when she gets married?” I’m super selfish like that.
(And also because I don’t believe that there’s a rule. There’s no “should” when it comes to this. It’s up to her (and him).)
We’ve wanted to write about this subject for quite a long time, and now that I actually have to MAKE A DECISION about this in the near future, it’s time to talk it out.
I love my last name. I identify with it. I like having the same last name as my family.
I LOVE that my initials are ABC (just like my Daddy).
And with all of that said, it seems obvious that I should keep my last name when I get married to Mike.
I never even thought about this when I was growing up. Sure, Alexandra Taylor Thomas or Alexandra DiCaprio sounded fun, but I never actually thought that I’d have to change my name someday. My folks never brought it up with me or anything (which I now resent you guys for because I feel a little blind-sided).
Over the past decade, I think I’ve always assumed that I’d keep my name.
But now that it’s HERE (which is awesome), I have to think about what to actually do.
Even though I love my name and initials, I also want to have the same name as Mike (which is Kohn).
And, even more than that, I want the same name as my future kids.
(I don’t even have children yet, and they’re already making shit complicated…)
Mike says he’s completely supportive of whatever I decide, which is ABSOLUTELY NO HELP AT ALL.
So, I’ve been compiling a mental pro and con list about what I should do.
PROS OF CHANGING MY LAST NAME:
– I’ll have the same name as Mike… everyone will know we’re Mr. and Mrs. (Though, with our luck – and the fact that we look vaguely similar – people will probably just assume that we’re brother and sister… or at least cousins.) We can be introduced as Ally and Mike Kohn, not Ally Carrillo and her husband Mike Kohn. It’s a symbol of us as a couple, as a team…
– I’ll have the same name as our kids. Now I know our future children don’t HAVE to have just Mike’s name, but I don’t want to hyphenate. Carrillo is long enough on it’s own – I’m not adding four more letters to it. I think that’s just mean.
– Speaking of length, Mike’s name is half as long as mine. My full name is Alexandra B Carrillo, and that is one long ass name to fill in on standardized test sheets. I loose valuable test time filling in name bubbles! Plus, I’d be able to cut my email address in half, and spelling it out for people would be way easier…
CONS OF CHANGING MY LAST NAME:
– I won’t be ABC anymore! ABK just doesn’t have the same ring to it… If Mike would just change the spelling of his last name to Cohn, this wouldn’t be an issue…
– I’ll have to change all of my online accounts. I know, that seems like a silly thing to say, but damn if it isn’t a pain in the ass. I mean, on top of changing my driver’s license, I have to change my Facebook URL!
– I have perfected the Alexandra Carrillo signature. I’m proud of my signature. Learning a new one makes me feel sleepy. (It’s a lot of effort…)
– I like that my name is Spanish.
– Yes, most of these CONS are silly and stupid, but this one is real – and the one that matters: I have an indescribable, irrational, overwhelming fear that I’ll loose part of my identity. Again, this seems foolish – even as I write it – but it’s a strange, lonely feeling thinking that I won’t have Carrillo attached to the end of my name. I know that I’ll still BE a Carrillo, but still.
I tell myself to listen to my gut, but my gut is as indecisive as my brain.
And so, to sum up, you all decide for me.
YOU HAVE ELEVEN MONTHS (!) to get your pro and con lists in.
PS: While were at it, tell me whether or not I should work during my first year of Graduate School, and whether I should cut my bangs again. These are all super important things I need to think about.
PPS: Maybe I should just change my last name to INDECISIVE… but that’s even longer than Carrillo…
As we just celebrated Mother’s Day, Ally and I thought it would be appropriate (and nice) to think about what my mother’s (and her grandmother’s) have taught each of us. My mom…Del, and my “other mother”…Stella (Brian’s mom), both died within the past two years.
Both of them were a big deal in our lives.
And , both of them taught us a lot.
~~~~~~~
I was incredibly lucky to have these two very dynamic mothers in my life. Both women taught me more by example than through any form of lecture or instruction. Neither was the type of woman who demanded or directed, but instead encouraged me, held my hand in good times and in bad, and helped guide me toward becoming the woman I am today.
(So if you don’t like me…blame them)
Ahhh…but it’s not that easy… Damn it.
I know I have to take responsibility for who am I (which is one of the things they both taught me).
Damn it.
But they also taught me all kinds of other things, like…
It’s important to become an independent woman:
My mom taught me that independence was about developing your own opinions and being able to stand on your own two feet and take care of yourself, even though (ironically), she was happiest in her dependence on my dad.
Stella taught me to embrace my independent spirit, and yet, don’t be afraid to lean on those who love and care about you.
Be fearless when choosing a career:
My mom didn’t worked outside the home while I was growing up, but was tireless in her encouragement of me to find a career that would challenge my mind and tap into my personal skills. She taught me that there were many paths I could take, as long as they led in a direction that would allow me to learn and grow along the way.
Stella taught me that no matter how old you are, you can make a contribution to others through work or volunteering. Shortly after Brian and I were married, Stella went back to work (full time) at the age of 60 in a job that required her to learn a whole new technology (automatic typewriters were just coming into vogue back then). She was never so vibrant or as happy as she was in that job. It helped her gain a whole new level of self confidence…and opened up a whole new group of friends that would be with her the rest of her life.
You’ve got to ENJOY your children:
My mom taught me to be a disciplinarian (good manners were a must!) but not to forget to have fun with my kids. She believed that humor built the strongest ties (with your children…or anyone for that matter). And spending any time with her…meant a time filled with stories and laughter…and fun.
Stella was also a stickler for good manners, but taught me that there was always time to play a game, work on a project or sing a song with your kids, and if it didn’t seem like you had the time…it was up to you to figure out a way to find it.
Love completes you:
My mom loved her family more than life itself…but she had only one true romantic love. My dad. She taught me that love completes you, but be cautious and judicious about who you love.
Stella taught me to be open to love people of all ages, and from every walk of life. She truly loved her friends and family, and more often than not…her friends became her family.
~~~~~~~~~~
I know that a day doesn’t go by without some life lesson becoming apparent that I learned from one of these two mothers.
They added so much to life and I miss them more than anyone could know.
And luckily, I now have another mother in my life who offers me all of the love and encouragement I could ever hope for (thank you Mary!). And…I continue to learn from her as well.
What a lucky woman I am to have such wonderful mothers in my life to offer me such wisdom.
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom – Del, to Stella and to Mary.
Thank you for all the lessons you’ve taught me.
Mom told me this post is supposed to be about my grandmothers, so I won’t really write about her, because I always usually listen to her.
BUT, I can’t write a Mother’s Day post without saying that she’s amazing. So, a quick poem:
C is for caring, because she cares about me (and you) a lot.
I is for intelligence, because she’s smarter than your average robot.
N is for not normal, because normal she is not.
D is for dashing, because she’s beautiful and hot.
Y is for y-awesome, because that’s all that I’ve got!
AND NOW, what I learned from my Grammy and Grandma:
Never act your age.
Laugh.
Stand for something.
Wear your seat belt.
Lift your hands up when you’re choking.
Play games.
Grammar is *really* important.
Stay informed.
Candy has no expiration date. (Just because it hurts your teeth to eat that jelly bean or licorice whip, it doesn’t mean it’s bad.)
Watch old movies.
Say please and thank you.
Send birthday cards.
Take risks in your life.
Make jokes about things that usually make you cry.
Do crossword puzzles.
Sleep is over-rated.
Baking is also over-rated. (Why bake when you can buy perfectly good brownies in a box?)
Love…
(But some people deserve to be hated.)
I miss my grandmothers.
A lot.
But I’m so thankful that they taught me all of these lessons (and many more that I can’t list here).
(Like seriously, the choking one? Totally useful.)
Happy Mom’s Day!
(PS: Mom, I was going to put “young” for the “Y”, but I couldn’t make it work. I want full credit, though.)
I need to preface this whole post with the disclaimer that I am not a big reader. Ally is a voracious reader…but I’m not. I love to read when I travel…or at the beach…or on a rainy/snowy Sunday with a hot cup of French vanilla coffee by my side. But I don’t read every day.
It takes a really good story to get me hooked on a book, and then once I’m hooked, I don’t put it down.
So when I do think about reading a book…I’m totally drawn to fiction, as I love a good story.
Not that true life can’t be turned into a good story, but I guess I prefer the made-up version of life when I curl up with a book.
Interestingly – even though I’m a sporadic reader – I’m particularly drawn to novels in a series. I guess I like to know that when I start a book, I’ll be able to follow the characters through different times, places and experiences…taking multiple books to complete the saga.
(Or maybe I’m just lazy and like the idea of having my next few books all laid out for me)
And I’m not at all particular about the genre of the books/series I choose. In fact…I’ve read and totally enjoyed…
- “Young adult” fiction like The Hunger Games series and The Twilight books;
- Books that deal with espionage, terrorism and political intrigue like The Bourne series, Vince Flynn’s series featuring the super good guy assassin Mitch Rapp and anything by David Baldacci;
- Stories about prehistoric times like Jean Auel’s the Earth’s Children series (Ally and I just went to a book signing last week and heard the author talk about her latest book and each got a signed copy!);
- Quirky stories about weird people in Sweden (yep…I got hooked on the whole Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series);
- And most recently, a story about a woman who steps through a group of large rocks in the 1940’s only to get sent back in time to Scotland in the 1700’s where she falls in love with a hunk of a Scottish man who rescues her about 20 times from danger in the first two books alone (the Outlander series)! LOVING IT!
I think I like historical novels a lot…but I can’t seem to get through a nonfiction book about a historical figure or event. I’ve tried to read about several of our Presidents, various wars, and even the civil rights movement. But honestly…I haven’t finished any of them.
I love to read stories about strong and interesting women, but when I’ve tried to read about real women (who I thought were role models) like Hillary Clinton or Jane Fonda, I found that I don’t really care all that much about their lives once I got into their books. They’re still role models…but just not as authors.
I’ve tried to read about how to better my health, my mind and my body…but I lose interest quickly and end up sitting in front of the TV eating a big ham and cheese sandwich.
But oddly enough, I like to read cookbooks. I know it sounds silly…but I can read through an entire cookbook, learning different techniques, food and spice combinations and serving ideas, and walk away feeling totally fulfilled…but not feeling like I just read a book.
Weird.
So I guess I do like some types of non-fiction.
And as I think about it…I think I read more than I think I read.
So I guess I’ll go finish up the 2nd book in the Outlander series right now. I’ve already got the next two in the series waiting for me.
I’m a total fiction fan. I love stories, whether they be love stories or fantasy stories or scary stories or stories written for pre-teens. I love them.
(OK, especially the ones written for pre-teens.)
I have a hard time with non-fiction. I get bored very easily. I drift off. I don’t find it very exciting or enthralling.
I just don’t connect.
And that’s what I really want from a book. Connection. And by connection, I don’t mean that I have to necessarily relate to it. I just like feeling connected to a character or a plot and interested in what happens next.
And I don’t really get that from (most) non-fiction.
(There are always exceptions. For example: humor. (Enter Mary Roach, Jen Lancaster, David Sedaris, and – most recently – Tina Fey.) That’s because I’m connecting to the funny. But even that’s not always enough if there’s no plot.)
I once read in (ironically) a non-fiction book that life is too short to read books that you don’t enjoy. So I don’t read a lot of non-fiction because I just don’t enjoy it very much.
Honestly, I thought that everyone read mostly fiction, because I’ve always equated “reading” WITH “fiction”. And then I started working in a bookstore.
Oh, the things you learn working in a bookstore!
I won’t go into it all now (because I’m compiling a list that will someday make a very long short story and probably a wildly popular film), but one of the biggest lessons has been that non-fiction is the popular choice for many, if not most, people.
(This is where I will ask that you refrain from going into a large bookstore and asking where the “non-fiction section” is. Odds are that the WHOLE FREAKING BOOKSTORE is non-fiction, with a row of novels.)
(This is also the part where I ask you to refrain from saying some rude comment to your local bookseller when we point this fact out. I understand that you’re scoffing and rolling your eyes at me because you realize that you asked an idiotic question, but still…)
(Moving on…)
I honestly didn’t realize that people read so! many! self-help books and religious books and new age books and history books and biographies. For entertainment! I hear the statement “I don’t really read fiction” far more than “I don’t really read non-fiction”.
(Probably because us fiction lovers are embarrassed that we prefer fantasy over books that, you know, might teach us something.)
My bread and butter is fiction. My love of reading is for fiction. When I walk into a bookstore, I make a mad dash for the fiction section.
Since starting at the bookstore, I’ve tried to expand my horizons. But really? If I find the time to sit and read, I’d rather read some epic love story than a self-improvement book about how to “be a better me”.
(Snore.)
I just loose interest reading about the same thing over and over, without a plot moving me forward. When I read, I want characters and secrets and imagination.
I want escape.
I crave (fictional) connection.
It’s my comfort zone, and reading should be about being comfortable, no matter what genre makes you feel that way…
(PS: I truly believe that there’s no “better” preference. I just think you should read, no matter what it is…)