So the question for me today is… when do we stop calling Willy, Willy?  Or at least when do we stop introducing him as ‘Willy’ and as Will or William?

 

To me, he will always be Willy, my Willy Mouse.

 

But today, when asked in the hospital today what he liked to be called – ‘Will, William, Bill?’… the consultant seemed surprised when Willy answered ‘No, my name is ‘Willy’… but he wrote it on the cover of the file anyway…

 

And the other week, when Willy went to for a taster day at his new school, he told me quietly at bed time that some of the boys in the playground teased him about his name.  But he is tough, my little Willy has some balls on him. He said he didn’t care.

 

Before he was born, I referred to him as ‘Will’.  But when he came out as this huge bruiser, a great big chunk of a 9lb 10 baby boy and was introduced to his Scottish Granny… he just became ‘Willy’.

 

It reminds me of my sister.  Bambi is christened Alexandra.  But as my brand new sister, apparently, I refused to call her anything other than Bambi!  So it stuck.

 

Mum and Dad often recounted the story that as a young schoolgirl, when the headmaster and teachers called her ‘Alex’… she turned round and said ‘My name is Bambi’.

 

She and Willy have so many similar traits… I think they look the same too, in certain angles, particularly around the smile.

 

I think that Bambi remained Bambi until she was about 16 and went to a different school for 6^th form.  There she became Alex or Al… (very confusing as my school friends called me ‘Al’ too).

 

But she will always be Bambi to me.  She will always be Aunty Bambi to the boys.  And anyone who knows me, knows her as Bambi.

 

So Willy.  He will always be Willy to me.

 

But I am going to leave it up to him as to when and if he wants to be called anything different.  It’s his name.  It is his choice.

 

His name won’t define him.  His personality, his strength of character will.  Just like his Aunty Bambi.