Have you ever wondered about my screen name? Have you even noticed it? Sometimes I get asked about it by those who wonder how it came to be. What’s the story? It has to do with a ten or eleven year old girl and her baby brother.

I was ten when the baby boy of our family was born. That was thirty-four years ago. Thirty-four years?!

I remember that baby boy. He had a rattly sound when he breathed due to a floppy epiglottis. I had one when I was born, also. We had that in common, separated by ten years. I loved holding him, playing with him, and watching him grow.


When he was a toddler I remember thinking he was the cutest thing. Maybe it was because I was growing up and becoming more maternal. Maybe there was now enough distance between me and a younger sibling that he wasn’t viewed as a threat for attention. Maybe I understood that he was a baby. The baby.

I gave him a nickname. Gregorypancis. Pronounced Greg-o-ree-pahn-sis.

I don’t know how or why it came about. It just did. I give the ones I love nicknames, just ask Beatrice, Kippy, Mabeccabo, Kierbear, McTirkle, Coco, Roo, and Maemo (Little Mae).

Fast-forward to the internet age and the advent of AOL and email addresses. When I set up my first email account and was looking for a screen name that didn’t need a number in the thousands after it, I thought, mommypancis. Mom-me-pahn-sis.

NOT mommyPANICS, though she often does.

I was in the thick of being mommy. It was available. Whenever I need it, it is there. It’s me. Mommypancis.


This is the face of Mommypancis, designed by my firstborn girl. With Maemo, of course. Can’t you tell?

And what about that little Gregorypancis?


He is a Daddy who will meet his little one face-to-face in a few short months. Babypancis will make an appearance in late November. I am thankful.

Happy Birthday, Little Brother! I love you much.

And, yes. I DID sew that orange and blue patch pillow in fourth grade. That is another story in itself, but the fact that it graces my baby brother’s toddler bed attests to the love and affection I had for him. Still do.

Thanks for heart-composting with me! I appreciate your words.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.