This post may contain some affiliate links for your convenience (which means if you make a purchase after clicking a link I will earn a small commission to help keep my blog up and running, but it won't cost you a penny more). For more information, please read my disclosure policy.
My oldest turns 5 years old today!!! I know it’s cliche but where does the time go. This picture of her and her sister when she 18 months old seems like yesterday. My little Maryann and baby Lilly. To honor Maryann’s birthday, I wanted to do a quick post on the newest crime fighting duo! Fofo and The Bear. Ok not really. I thought I would tell you about how my kids got their nicknames. Not blogger nicknames, but names we actually call them.
My oldest’s name is Maryann, named after my mother (Mary) and my sister (Ann). Therefore her initials are MF. That’s motherf’er if you have a horrendous potty mouth like me. Back when she was in day care, I had to label EVERYTHING with her initials, and I would always chuckle to myself writing “MF” on all her bottles and other misc crap. Lo and behold when my sister finally realized her initials were MF she started calling her Mofo. Side note: yelling this in a crowded store is the best thing ever. You get quite a few looks. Long story short (too late) it was shortened to Fofo when my sister’s boyfriend’s sister’s son couldn’t say Mofo. Instead it came out Fofo. So the nickname has stuck. And it fits her personality to a T. Orginal and hilarious.
My youngest daughter Lilly’s nickname came out a bit differently. Her favorite toy when she was a little tiny baby was a bear from Viatech. (I have no clue where it is or I would have a photo of it) So we started calling her Lilly Bear, which is sometimes Lil Bear, Bear, or Lilly the Bear. We are strange. No rhyme or reason, the names just stuck. I blame it on my husband. He was raised by a biker and around bikers his whole life and none of the people used their real god damn names. His father was Pedro, and then there was Hodgie, Hairbutt or Hairpiece or Buttplug or who-the-fuck-knows and Jim. Jim was lucky and got to keep his real name. So I suppose it was destiny that our children not be known by their real names either.
So, in the future if you read about Fofo and The Bear, it’s not a duo from some magical fantasy story. Just my children. Correction, OUR beautiful children.