Home > Fun Childhood, Funny, My Brother, My Mom, My Sister, Nostalgia, School, Silliness > The Time I Had a Different Name for Three Years

The Time I Had a Different Name for Three Years

February 3, 2012 Leave a comment Go to comments

I found out earlier this week that my mom, and probably some other people, didn’t call me by my given name until I went to school.

My mom put me in pre-school at an early age since she worked, so I found myself in a Montessori school at three years old. It was a place with carpet squares and tall bookshelves full of “activities” stored in plastic containers. A teacher would assign you an activity box, give you some basic instruction, then leave you to it. Once you had completed the activity successfully (and some were timed), you would receive another more difficult box to further develop your skills. This meant that every kid was usually working on a different box at any given time, and you progressed at your own pace. As a result, I was doing multiplication and division at age five or so, and could read with little difficulty by the time I entered kindergarten. It makes you wonder what children could achieve if they weren’t all shoehorned into classes and forced to progress lockstep with every other student. Some would advance quickly, which would reduce boredom in school, and others could get the extra help they need and deserve by being able to slow down until they fully understood each concept. Though I only attended Montessori school for three years before spending the next 13 years in the public school system, I still support the Montessori concept. But then you might end up with those weird kids who go off to college at age 11 or something, and are completely socially unprepared for the boozing and craziness that goes on freshman year.

Anyway, I got completely off topic here. Unbeknownst to me, I apparently went by the name “Mari” for the first three to four years of my life. This has no relation whatsoever to my current given name, but evidently my mom had some buyer’s remorse after putting my real name on my birth certificate. Why this name fell out of use after my toddler years, I’ll never know. According to my mom, she thought me real name simply wasn’t “cute” enough for my face at that age, so perhaps I just got uglier as I grew up, making the cutesy “Mari” name no longer appropriate?

My mom created and sang individual theme songs for all her children, and mine featured the name “Mari” instead of my real name. I thought she was just using a nonsense word all this time, but now I know better.

♪ “Misty Mari in the morning,
Misty Mari in the afternoon,
Misty Mari in the evening looking at the moon,
Misty Mari reaches and grabs her own moonbeam in the month of June.” ♪

My sister’s song was:

♪ “J— Ann floating free in a kite
With a great big long tail bouncing off to the right.
J— Ann fannie banan, fannie banan.” ♪

And my brother’s was:

♪ “We are the merry men of olde,
We bang on our table, we bang on our plates,
We eat roast piggie and we fart (farting noises made by mouth).” ♪

According to my mom, my brother “usually collapsed in giggles with the farting thing.”

She also said, “I have no idea why I felt each of my children should have their own theme song, but I did so I made them up with a tune for each. You kids seemed to enjoy your own theme songs very much and I could always get a smile out of every one of you, so I guess it served my purposes.”

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