I Am A Oldest Kid

A person’s name is their most important characteristic and is often comprised of hidden significance and centurial “hand-me-downs”. When I was assigned to research my name, I had never thought of the importance of the name my parents had given me. As a child, I always found it annoying when my peers turned to snicker at me each time our church’s music minister asked for the congregation to stand and sing “Amazing Grace.” Each time I heard the song “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, there was always someone near to ask, “Hey, where is your lamb?” After conducting research, though, I began to find little things that made me more appreciative of my name.

Three different stories as to how I got my name and nobody would back the other person’s story up at all. My parents both went around the fact that my grandma Linda didn’t want me named Savanna. But then when I go to the source it was completely different. So I put the pieces together. I was named Madison, because I looked like a Madison. I got my two middle names because my grandma didn’t want my name the same as cities or a girl scout cookie. But my dad wanted me to at least have Savanna Cheyenne in my name. So back to what my dad had once told me “When you were born there was a big argument about you being named Savanna Cheyenne, so you went 24 hours nameless until one day the nurse Joe, looked at you and said ‘you look more like a Madison then a Savanna’, that’s when I said ‘I don’t care what your first name is just as long as you have Savanna Cheyenne in your nam.’ So we put Madison together with Savanna Cheyenne and we got Madison Savanna Cheyenne and that is how you got your full

Most people have a story about how their parents decided on their name, especially those of us who have less common ones. Mine is fairly dry; my parents looked through a book of names and decided that “Maizie” was charming and sweet and would fit me well. My sister’s story, however, is slightly more intriguing. Cleo Arden Seidl, born on August 3rd of 2001, was named by me, Maizie Regan Seidl, when I was just two years and nine months old.

I was given the name Chase Andrew Miner. My mom had liked the name Chase and Chance, but she finally decided on Chase. While that decision wasn’t too hard for her to make, (at least she said it wasn’t) my last name, Miner, was an even easier decision. My mom was married to my dad and she took his last name, so the obvious last name would be Miner. My mom told me she had a really difficult time figuring out a middle name for me. She couldn’t find a name that fit in well. One day my aunt, Lori, called my mom and asked about the name Andrew. My mom had thought about it and she decided that that name fit. So from that day I was Chase Andrew Miner. The joke my mom says now is if she knew she’d have to chase me so much, she would have named me Slow. But word got around of what

To produce this book, I asked not “What you are going to name your baby?”, but rather “What is your name? How does it make you feel? Who named you? Why did they choose that name? Would you change

“You’re nothing I should have never had you… that’s why your father left!” She always told me every chance she got. As I was only five years old, I truly believed her. Her never ending yelling and abusive rants towards me I soon went into depression and thinking I wasn’t anything. It always crossed my mind

Have you ever had to travel for 9.5 hours or more to a destination you've been dying to go to? Sadly I have, and once we arrived in Texas it was all worth the lengthy car drive. While my family and I were driving to Texas my brother had to go to the bathroom every five minutes it seemed like. My family and I did so many fun things in Texas with my grandparents. Unluckily there were also some tragic events that happened. The vacation was as fun as a great trip.

I remember my mom telling me about why she named me Kiersten all because she didn’t like the name Kirsten. My full name is Kiersten Marie Mann. Kiersten means follower of Christ. Marie means-Many believe it to mean "sea of bitterness" or "sea of sorrow.” Mann means- a surname of Germanic Origin. My mom tells me all the time that if I came out as a boy they would've named me Harry like hairy man, but good thing I came out as a girl. I never liked my last name growing up because everyone would call me a man but no one does anymore, luckily. I don’t like my first name either, I always thought it didn’t fit in.

I tried to comfort her but she began to scream and run around. My father entered and cut my wrists and made sure I never entered her room again.

My mom and dad love to bicker about who came up with the idea to name me Miranda. My dad says when he was a teacher he had a wonderful student so he choose Miranda. While my mom following the tradition, she had a list of names that start with “M”. She suggested Molly, Marissa, and Miranda, my dad disliked Molly. I found it funny when I found out what the

I used to dislike my name when I was younger, because people would always spell it wrong, and it was different than every other person with my name. But now that I’m older, I really like my name, for the reason I disliked it when I was younger. Being different is something that I like, I’m always trying to be different from other people for a reason I can’t explain, maybe it’s a desire for being different, but who knows. Even with people spelling it wrong, it only takes four seconds for me to tell someone “It’s R-Y, not R-I.”

I did what she had told me and eventually went back to bed. I had been sleeping for some time but then was woken up by voices. There was fear and panic in the voices. My mom got out of the car and ran into the apartment building without even closing the door. My dad closed got out and closed the door. We just left my mom there we went to my dad's sister’s house. When had got up stairs we slept on the floor in the small living room of her apartment. It was around three or four in the morning my brother and I were fighting with each other and kicking each other for taking up too much space. Eventually my dad got pretty mad and yelled at us and the was the end of that night.

I was six when everything happened. My parents never really showed affection towards each other in the few years I remember. I only remember yelling and objects smashing against the walls. I only remember being told to grab my brother and head to my room while they fought. I remember pressing my ear against the walls to listen to what they fought about, but I never understood any of it. I never dared to walk out of my room while they fought because I knew I would be yelled at as well. Sometimes my infant brother and I would spend hours just sitting in my room playing with toys. We were held captive until one of my parents decided to let the other win.

I have been the victim numerous times in my life. I am a middle child after all. Having four siblings can suck sometimes. My oldest sibling is Tori she 's is the queen of the pain in my hind quarters. My older brother A.J (Troy) is the prince and Kenny (Kennedy) my little sister is just a pain in my butt always will be. My older brother is the boy who shattered my elbow. I never really forgave him.He was the one who said “Bet you can’t get up there”. He loves to tease me and beat me up.I used to always get bruises from him. He stopped when he turned 13.