Before Aoife, we were never big on meaningful names, on names that represented something. With Greer and Scout, we just went with ones that were right for the moment, oblivious to what serendipity had in store. With Aoife, there was a purpose, a reason. And if when she curses us for it, we have a story to tell her. A story she can tell. She may not immediately appreciate it, but in time she will. Just as Greer the loquacious redhead and Scout the thrill-seeking tomboy, if also a lover of the color pink and trips to the salon, can appreciate the appropriateness of their names.

Aoife, just a shade beyond two years old, is a fearsome little ball of terror. A growling destroyer. A warrior. She’s also beautiful and given to moments of extreme joy; reminiscent of when she emerged unharmed as our little bundle of joy. But don’t cross her. You won’t like her when she’s angry (which, though exhausting, is worth it). Our house wouldn’t be our home without our loquacious, adventurous, snarling demon trio. So even though their personalities are more from us than from their names, we wouldn’t go back and risk giving them more sedate options or second-guess serendipity. Although it would be nice if they destroyed fewer things or stopped talking ever or even if I could just find my house keys.