A special day requires special words, so I’ve scoured the infinite web to find you some of the most touching, funny and sweet readings for your child’s Big Day.
Your baby is incredible, right? I mean, it’s true. Babies are magical. They are tiny human beings made by other human beings - it’s mind blowing! Don’t even get me started on their teeny fingers and their squishy little noses.
But more than just adorable additions to the family, they are people being born into a complex, exciting and sometimes daunting world. Baby naming readings are a fantastic way to mark their birth with poignancy and to express well wishes for their onward path.
Whether you’re the mother, father, auntie, uncle, guideparent, brother, sister or grandparent, I hope you’ll find a reading that you can relate to in this list of some of my favourites.
You are my I Love You by Maryann K Cusimano
I am your parent you are my child,
I am your quiet place, you are my wild,
I am your calm face, you are my giggle,
I am your wait, you are my wiggle,
I am your audience, you are my clown,
I am your London Bridge, you are my falling down,
I am your Carrot Sticks, you are my licorice,
I am your dandelion, you are my first wish,
I am your water wings, you are my deep,
I am your open arms, you are my running leap,
I am your way home, you are my new path,
I am your dry towel, you are my wet bath,
I am your dinner you are my chocolate cake,
I am your bedtime, you are my wide awake,
I am your finish line, you are my race,
I am your praying hands, you are my saving grace
I am your favourite book, you are my new lines,
I am your nightlight, you are my sunshine,
I am your lullaby, you are my peek-a-boo,
I am your kiss goodnight, you are my I love you.
If by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools.
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them:
'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
‘For my niece’ by Kate Tempest
I hold you in my arms,
your age is told in months.
There’s things I hope you’ll learn.
Things I’m sure I learned once.
But there’s nothing I can teach you.
You’ll find all that you need.
No flower bends its head to offer
teaching to a seed.
The seed will grow and blossom
once the flower’s ground to dust.
But even so, if nothing else,
one thing I’ll entrust:
Doing what you please
is not the same
as doing what you must
‘Love you more’ by James Carter
Do I love you
to the moon and back?
No I love you
more than that
I love you to the desert sands
the mountains, stars
the planets and
I love you to the deepest sea
and deeper still
through history
Before beyond I love you then
I love you now
I’ll love you when
The sun’s gone out
the moon’s gone home
and all the stars are fully grown
When I no longer say these words
I’ll give them to the wind, the birds
so that they will still be heard
I love you
‘Infant Joy' by William Blake
‘I have no name:
‘I am but two days old.’
What shall I call thee?
‘I happy am
Joy is my name.’
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy but two days old,
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!
‘Love’ by Kate Clanchy
I hadn’t met his kind before.
His misericord face – really,
like a joke on his father – blurred
as if from years of polish;
his hands like curled dry leaves;
the profligate heat he gave
out, gave out, his shallow,
careful breaths: I thought
his filaments would blow,
I thought he was an emperor,
dying on silk cushions.
I didn’t know how to keep
him wrapped, I didn’t know
how to give him suck, I had
no idea about him. At night
I tried to remember the feel
of his head on my neck, the skull
small as a cat’s, the soft spot
hot as a smelted coin,
and the hair, the down, fine
as the innermost, vellum layer
of some rare snowcreature’s
aureole of fur, if you could meet
such a beast, if you could
get so near. I started there.
‘I’d Love to be a Fairy’s Child’ by Robert Graves
Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their heart’s desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they’re seven years old,
Every fairy child may keep
Two strong ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild -
I’d love to be a Fairy’s child.
A Mother’s Wish, Author Unknown
I hope my child looks back on today
And sees a mother who had time to play.
There will be years for cleaning and cooking,
But children grow up when you’re not looking.
Tomorrow I’ll do all the chores you can mention
But today, my baby needs time and attention.
So settle down cobwebs; dust go to sleep,
I’m cuddling my baby, and babies don’t keep.
From the Start, Author Unknown
I loved you from the very start,
You stole my breath, embraced my heart.
Our life together has just begun
You’re part of me my little one.
As mother with child, each day I grew,
My mind was filled with thoughts of you.
I’d daydream of the things we’d share,
Like late-night bottles and Teddy bears.
Like first steps and skinned knees,
Like bedtime stories and ABC’s.
I thought of things you’d want to know,
Like how birds fly and flowers grow.
I thought of lessons I’d need to share,
Like standing tall and playing fair.
When I first saw your precious face,
I prayed your life be touched with grace.
I thanked the angels from above,
And promised you unending love.
Each night I lay you down to sleep,
I gently kiss your head and cheek.
I count your little fingers and toes;
I memorize your eyes and nose.
I linger at your nursery door,
Awed each day I love you more.
Through misty eyes, I dim the light,
I whisper, “I love you” every night.
I loved you from the very start,
You stole my breath, embraced my heart.
As mother and child our journeys begin,
My heart’s yours forever little one.
Footprints, Author Unknown
“Walk a little slower Daddy” said a child so small,
“I’m following in your footsteps and I don’t want to fall.
Sometimes your steps are very fast,
Sometimes they’re hard to see;
So walk a little slower Daddy,
For you are leading me.
Someday when I’m all grown up,
You’re what I want to be;
Then I will have a little child
Who’ll want to follow me.
And I would want to lead just right,
And know that I was true;
So walk a little slower Daddy,
For I must follow you.
Before You Came by Beverley Butcher
What did we do, in the days before you came?
Vodka, and dancing, and staying out late
Breakfast at tea-time
Reading the papers, a long lie-in
And space in the bed
Now it's daisy chains, and super-heroes
Butterfly wings, and light-sabres
Eating pink cake
Naming stars
And catching snowflakes in our mouths
No room in the bed
And a half-sleep on its edge
While you snore, stretched out, a star-fish
Time escaping, before you came
And cast your spell
And filled the house with possibility;
All the things you want to do
And all the things you're going to be
So - let's make a den
Take our biscuits in
Carve lanterns at Hallowe'en
Watch grown-ups do star jumps on a trampoline
And wonder what we ever did
In the days before you came.
A Tribute to Daughters, Author Unknown
Every home should have a daughter
For there is nothing like a girl
To keep the world around her
In one continuous whirl
From the moment she arrives on earth,
And on through womanhood,
A daughter is a female
Who is seldom understood
One minute she is laughing
The next she starts to cry,
Man just can not understand her
And there is no use to try
She is soft and sweet and cuddly
But she is also wise and smart,
She is a wondrous combination
Of a mind and brains and heart
And even in her baby days
She is just a born coquette,
And anything she really wants
She manages to get
For even at a tender age
She uses all her whiles,
And she can melt the hardest heart
With the sunshine of her smiles
There are little eyes upon you, Author Unknown
There are little eyes upon you
and they’re watching night and day.
There are little ears that quickly
take in every word you say.
There are little hands all eager
to do anything you do;
And little ones who’re dreaming
of the day they’ll be like you.
You’re the little child’s idol,
you’re the wisest of the wise.
When the little ones see you
no suspicions ever rise.
They believe in you devoutly,
hold all you say and do;
They will say and do, in your way,
when they’re grown up like you.
Oh! The Places You’ll Go! by Dr Seuss
Congratulations! Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
You’ll look up and down streets.
Look’em over with care.
About some you will say,
“I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains
and your shoes full of feet,
you’re too smart to go down
a not-so-good street.
And you may not find any you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town.
It’s opener there in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen and frequently do,
to people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew.
Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.
Oh! The Places You’ll Go!
You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.
You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.
Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.
I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true
that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.
You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You’ll be left in a Lurch.
You’ll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.
And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.
You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted.
But mostly they’re darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And if you go in, should you turn left or right…
or right-and-three-quarters?
Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused that you’ll start into race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come,
or a plane to go or the mail to come,
or the rain to go or the phone to ring,
or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls,
or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.
No! That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!
The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you,
they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you can not visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you,
for life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark on the path of the infinite
And he bends you with his might that his arrows may go swift and far
Let your bending in the archers hand be for gladness
For as he loves that arrow that flies,
So he loves also the bow that is stable.