In childhood, many Bengalis take on two names that follow them through life. The bhalo nam, or “good name,” is the name that appears on legal documents.  The dak nam, or “nickname,” is used in more casual settings.

Roby’s sister, his mother, and his mother’s two sisters only have bhalo nams, perhaps because their names are so naturally cute that they’re totally dak-like.  Though “Roby” is similarly short and sweet, we have been rehearsing potential dak nams for the young ‘un.

Following are a few contenders.  And, forgive the scatological nature of some; the boy just doesn’t give us much to work with:

• Gaseous Clay
• Farty McCarty
• Mr. Poopy Pants
• Belchy McBurpenstein
• Robespierre
• Roby Dooby Do-Da-Day
• Roby Robe Robi
• The Robester
• Robe Bryant
• Baby Brudda
• Hank

Any other suggestions?  In the meantime, here’s a bunch of recent pics:

Share in the cuteness as Roby gets his hair done and burps for the camera while Didi looks on from the other room.

Warning: this may not be of interest to those unrelated or unimpressed by the simple feats of a 1 week-old.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Last night was the first time since Kaya was an infant that I had that odd combination of utter exhaustion and existential satisfaction that many parents know well. The brain goes to interesting places when it’s part of a body that’s fast asleep yet is itself tuned into the frequency of a nearby child learning to breathe and process saliva and sleep and exist in this world. I was just as terrified in our first night at home with Roby as I was with Kaya, because his vulnerability is so utterly heartbreaking and he’s so completely dependent upon us. Yet I was also able to calm myself more quickly this time; all signs are that he’s a healthy baby, and they all gurgle and get restless. Intellectually, I know we’ll all settle into routine and learn to manage the exhaustion. I was and am prepared for how tired I’m going to get these next weeks and months. Last night as I lay in bed 4 hours after I went to sleep, having gotten all of about 20 minutes, I smiled to myself at how beautifully tired I was. Only days from now, or perhaps tonight, the beauty will fade away and there’ll only be exhaustion. But last night I was surfing on the tension between wanting, needing to sleep so badly, and yet needing even more to bear witness to my boy’s first night in our home. It was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had.

Today, we welcomed Roby Saha Waltzer into our family.  He arrived at 8:07 pm, weighing in at a solid 7 lbs 12 oz, and stretching a full twenty inches.

The name “Roby” (pronounced “Row-bee”) is derived from the Bangla pronunciation of Ravi, which means “sun.”  We settled on it because of its compatibility with his didi’s name (”Kaya and Roby” seemed to us to naturally roll off the tongue), and because it feels both familiar and unique at once. It’s also close to the name “Ruby,” who was a cherished member of the Waltzer family (my grandfather’s brother, and Kaya’s cousin Jasper’s great-grandfather). We had some disagreement over the way it would be spelled– momma wanted an “i” while daddy wanted a “y.”  Ultimately, momma relented, agreeing to spell it any way I wanted… although when I suggested we spell it “H-a-n-k,” she pulled that offer off the table.

Needless to say, we’re ecstatic, and looking forward to the challenge of managing and raising DushtuThey instead of Dushtumay.

Here’s some of The Boy’s first photos: