Drinking for .... one and a half.

So.

The twins were extracted at about 10 after 7 p.m., EST.  I understand all went well, and they are both healthy and free of any visible deformities.  I won't have first-hand knowledge of this until I visit the hospital tomorrow.  I hear that one of them came into the world very relaxed and laid back, and the other one screaming its fool head off.  I'll leave you to guess which is which.

I say "drinking for one and a half" because Sara plans to breast feed, at least a little, and so I'll still be doing about half of her drinking for the time being.

You'd think that I might have devoted some time over the last 9 months to thinking about something to say on this monumental occasion.  But I didn't.  I figured something would come to me.  It hasn't. 

You'd also think that I'd be a little freaked out right now.  But I'm not.  Feeling strangely calm.  Perhaps once I actually see them I'll be a little more in touch (and by "in touch", I mean anxious and uncomfortable).  Right now it's still kind of like they're not real. 

Ever since we annointed Sara's belly with vodka last Saturday and expressed our wishes for the little demons in years to come, I've been giving a little thought to how their parents may have sealed their fates just by choice of names.  There are some who believe that a person's first name plays a big role in personality development.  I can only assume that it's not magic at work, but connotation.  I have not made a study of the workings of the brain, but it makes sense to me that one's personality could be the result, in part, of how he or she is treated, and that treatment could have a lot to do with subtle word associations.

So, let's consider the various ways that Jack captures the imagination:  Jack Kerouac, Jack Kevorkian, Jack the Ripper, Captain Jack Sparrow, Jack Bauer, Jack Tripper, Jack Layton, Jack Nicholson, Jack Lalanne, Jack Black, Jack White, Jack Sprat, Jack Rabbit Slim (and his Twist Contest).  Jackknife, jackhammer, jackpot, hijack, lumberjack, jack-in-the-box, jack o' lantern, jack off, jack-off.

Jack originated as a diminutive for the biblical "John" and as a Middle English slang for "man".  Its meanings include "god is gracious" and "he who supplants".

The Scottish form of Jack is "Jock", which, in addition to being an athletically inclined and possibly dim-witted high school student, is also a slang word for masturbation, in the Caribbean.

The associations one might make in their mind regarding Jack are fairly obvious, I think.  Molly requires a bit more explanation.  Since there aren't that many Mollys to choose from, I expanded to include the short form, Moll.  Here goes:

Molly is another name for pure MDMA/ecstasy.  It is also a word for a female mule.  Gun moll is slang for a female companion of an American gangster.  Moll is also Victorian slang for prostitute, and is still used as slang for "a woman of loose sexual morals" in Australia and New Zealand. Genetically engineered sheep.  Molly Hatchet, Molly Ringwald, Molly Shannon, Flogging Molly.  Albert Moll is the founder of modern sexology. 

Moll Flanders, the character created by Daniel Dafoe, is born illegitimately to a woman on death row in London, and grows up to become a servant in a household of two brothers, the eldest of which convinces her to "act like they are married" in bed, and later to marry his younger brother, who leaves her widowed.  She becomes a con artist, tricking various men into marrying her, and goes on to have multiple children with different fathers.  Molly Bloom, of James Joyce's Ulysses, is known mainly for her soliloquy and the fact that she has an extra-marital affair. 

Molly Grue is a character from The Last Unicorn, who is originally introduced as living in sin in the woods with a bandit named Captain Cully.  She leaves the gang of bandits to follow a unicorn, and eventually becomes a protector of unicorns, in her way. 

Molly is a diminutive of "Mary", meaning, the "virgin Mary" - as irony goes I'm sure it was intentional in 14th century Britain.  The name also means "star of the sea" (aka - the Kraken).

So.  It appears that Jack is destined to grow up as a bit of a maverick, a creative and innovative thinker. Possibly even an iconic figure.  Or an iconoclast.  And also, perhaps, a malnourished murderer of prostitutes.  Which doesn't bode well for Molly, who is destined to grow up to be kind of a whore.  If names mean anything.

Welcome to the world, childrens.