I have always sort of hidden one particular dirty little secret about myself: I am a name snob. I pass judgment on people based on what they name their kids. I hate being like this, but I just can't seem to get rid of this ugly prejudice.I was happy to read that I am not alone. Fellow mama-blogger, Jordana Adams struggles with this as well.

If you must know, my own kids are named :

Henry Louis Granju (called Henry and named after three generations of grandfathers. How could I have known in 1991 that Henry would become the name of choice for Hollywood's hipster parents, who needed something to replace the overworked faves, Max and Sam.)

Elizabeth Jane Chevillard Granju ( Named after French and American great grandmothers, and called Jane. We have yet to meet another little Jane. Her monogram is a bit tough to get on stuff though )

Elliot Robert Castrillon Granju (called Elliot. Since everyone in my family has incredibly dull names like Catherine, Elizabeth and Thomas, John, and James, the name Elliot -- chosen for no particular reason other than the fact that we liked it -- is still considered a rather daring and unconventional choice by my elderly relatives. When I informed her what we had decided to name the baby, my grandmother told me that "the name Elliot is only suitable for a gay actor-type in a P.G. Wodehouse novel" Then she gave me a look of haughty disgust.)