The naming of Baby Bear turned out to be one of those fortuitous events that make me think that there really is no such thing as coincidence.
When we decided to adopt, I felt that I should leave the possibility open that our baby's birth mom might want to choose his name. Since she would lose so many decisions and milestones, we could at least give her that one important gift.
It turned out that not only did she choose a name, she picked a name that had significance in our own family. A name we might have picked had we decided to choose. Coincidence? The first name Cody belongs to two of my cousins and the middle name William is my hubby's middle name as well as his dad's name. Cody William. Bill Cody.
I had never read the story of Buffalo Bill Cody, although the name pops up as a character in many Wild West stories. Then, coincidentally (again), while browsing at the library, I found his autobiography.
The real guy, the Wild West Cowboy, had written his life story. I laughed when I saw it, because it had never occurred to me that Cowboys could write.
The name came from his occupation while young of supplying the railroad workers with buffalo meat to eat while they built the Transcontinental Railroad. He also fought as a Colonel in the Civil War and started his "Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show" in Chicago, bringing the world of cowboys, Indians and buffalo to the cities in the East.
His father had died of complications from a stabbing for his anti-slavery beliefs. Bill, himself, was reported to be a staunch advocate of Native Americans' rights and women's rights. For my son to be named after a historical figure, I think he is a fairly good one, a good mix of adventurer, scoundrel and advocate, a hard worker, a poor businessman and a creative, clever individual. I found him fascinating.
The outfit Baby Bear is wearing came from Miss A too. He wore it proudly to Small Group the other night, although the bandanna got slimy rather quickly. If you ask me, this is about as cute as it gets. Not that I'm biased.