on a name change

I have officially become a Cannon.  I gave myself a few months to think it over, to weigh options, and then I made the switch.  I'm still a Driscoll at work, so I feel a bit like a Cannon sham, but I did it.

I knew it would be a big decision, and it was.  It wasn't easy.  I thought hard about what it would mean if I made the switch, if I wasn't being a good feminist, if I wasn't honoring the women who came before me who didn't have a choice other than to become Mrs. Hisfirstname Hislast name.  Even after nearly nine years together, when we were married last August I still had not made up my mind.  The thing is, I love my name.  My parents chose it for me.  My first and middle name flow nicely into Driscoll and that's how they wanted it.  It felt like a strange thing to then mess it up.  And, not only to mess it up, but to go with such an alliteration friendly name: Caitlin Ann Cannon.  All those c's and a's and n's just felt like too much.  Caitie Cannon.  Like the local news reporter who only gets to do the fluff pieces and has big hair.

What finally pushed me toward the big C is the way Mike feels about his name and all that surrounds it.  He loves it.  I mean, really, really loves it.  And it's not the one he was born with either, so he's probably one of the only men who was able to say, "but I've done it too" when the discussion of name change came up. Mike was born Brennan (don't get me started on how much nicer Caitlin Brennan sounds) but that Dad was not a good man and did not stay around for long, so when Bob Cannon came into his life and became his Dad, Mikey Brennan became a Cannon.  He is so proud of that, the feeling ended up being kind of contagious.

And so now I am a Cannon too.  Alliteration and all.  And when we see it in print, or even a cannon itself, I am directed to take a photo:

Cannon sighting on vacation day outing to South Street Seaport