It's a good name. A solid name. A traditional name. A name that my ma n' pa didn't fabricate. A name without a superfluous H.
Let's sway from topic (me) but stay on theme for a sec and review Utah naming trends. My limited scope of life hasn't revealed that the phenomenon of inane, yokel-like baby names of pure invention exists on a grand scale outside Utah. So for me, the wide-spread tendency to hex a kid with a piecemeal and either too-phonetic or essentially unpronounceable name is exclusive to the State of Deseret.
Names like Kadelyn, Brindalyn, Maddeysen, Jadealyn, and Jaidin are all-star trailer trash indicators. If you named your child one of the aforementioned, it would be appropriate for me to apologize for my lack of tact, but it would also be a big fat lie, 'cause I'm not all that sorry.
The one who should engage in apologizing is probably you. To your child. Practice this: I'm sorry for giving you a name generated by tossing out random Scrabble tiles. Or go with I'm sorry that in naming you I tried to one-up the neighbors by recklessly altering the spelling of a traditional name and failed famously.
Let's say this, you don't need to give your kid some crazy unique name to make them special and different; they came that way!
I'm of the persuasion that a name shouldn't be a burden and find it irritating that some of the winner names Utah parents frequently dream up are nothing short of a knapsack of asphalt.
Anyhow, back to my name: Megan. Short. Like me. Irish in origin. Like me. Easy. Like me. (Kidding.) Rich with adjectives when G-less.
And I'm partial to the way it looks abbreviated: Meg.
A predilection that has introduced an interesting state of affairs in this little life o' mine. See, my Blogger profile name is Meg. If I leave a comment, the blue link reveals to readers that it was Meg's doing. Meg was here. I made "Meg" my profile name 'cause I find its aesthetics charming. No kidding. And it didn't really occur to me that people would take the abbreviation seriously and respond to my comments and send me emails addressing me as "Meg."
Outside the blogosphere, I can count on two hands the people that call me Meg. Maybe even just a single paw. It requires severe familiarity or the right saucy personality type. However, rarely a day zips by that I don't seat myself in front of a Gmail account rife with emails politely greeting "Meg." (Who the heck is she?) My family doesn't even regularly call me Meg, yet there's an email from some soul seeking design help, and because my KnuckleHeaders site declares that it was "Made by Meg," the seeking soul [sensibly] assumes that I do my day-to-day dealings under the shortened version of my email address.
Thing is, I'm a prickly person with whom intimacy is earned and rarely granted, so when I receive emails addressing me with familiarity, my knickers knot themselves in response to what I ideate as the writer's sheer presumptuousness. When, by golly, their use of "Meg" was my fault in the first place and they haven't a clue I clench when a new someone makes a go at chumminess by shortening my first name.
So change it, you say.
Nope. Like I said, I like the way it looks. And I sometimes sorta enjoy sitting squarely beneath a single syllable. Were my written signature legible, one might get the idea that I drop the "an." So when it comes to the profile available to all, "Meg" gets to stay.
Ah! So perhaps "Meg" begins a life of her own. An online alter ego that spouts sarcastic somethings, is constantly cynical, and offends with abandon. But we both know that that's not going to work because my offline self that behaves in that exact manner would find herself confused and bereft over the death of her exclusive identity. And what's an alter ego without the alter, right?
So I get to get used to and be comfortable with total strangers calling me Meg like we've known each other since middle school or been married for going on seven years.
Oh, and no offense intended (seriously), if this is your name (or worse: that of your child), but I was just thinking how pleased I am that my parent's didn't name me Kelsey, not that they considered it or anything like that.