You doesn't have to call her Tammy

Growing up, no one ever got my name right. It's pronounced Tam-ah-rah, but most people would say Ta-mar-ah or Ta-mare-ah.

It all started right after I was born when my uncle and a friend of the family didn't like the name my momma had given me. They didn't know what they wanted to call me, but until they figured it out, they said they were going to call me George.

My uncle soon started calling me Tamara, just like the rest of the family, but for our friends, the nickname stuck. Now, I'll be out at a store and hear, "Hey, George."

I turn around every time, and of course, it's them.

My siblings even got in on the act. Neither of them could say my name. My brother called me Bambi for years. Now, I'm not really sure how you get Bambi out of Tamara, but he did.

I am so not a Bambi. For me, the name conjures images of something exotic, and the closest I've ever come to that is wearing a leopard print shirt back in the 1990s.

My sister, on the other hand, well, she called me "Bebop." Again, how do you get "Bebop" out of Tamara? For me, "Bebop" is about dancing, and since the only dancing I've ever done is when I try not to trip over my own two feet, it just wasn't right.

All through school, I endured the first day when the teacher would always get my name wrong. Kids would snicker, because a lot of times, it sounded like the teacher was calling me "tomorrow." In fact, my high school biology teacher did call me "tomorrow" as a joke.

Another bad part of my name was I could never find personalized items. I couldn't have a little license tag for my bicycle or cute pencils with my name on them. I really wanted some of those, too.

At least, I had a good last name. It was Green. No one ever got it wrong. And, then, I met my husband. I just had to fall in love with a man who had a horrible-to-pronounce last name. It's Belinc. Looking at it, you would think it was pronounce be-link. Nope, sorry, that's wrong. It's ba-lintz. Seriously, who would get that pronunciation out the spelling "Belinc?"

It's a German name, and everyone with that name in the United States is related to each other. The background on the name is very cool, but that doesn't help when you have an equally hard-to-pronounce first name.

I can't tell you how many phone calls I've gotten from telemarketers asking for "Tomorrow Belink." I usually tell them no one by that name lives there. Well, it really isn't a lie, is it?

My granny liked to tease my husband, so she called him "Brian Belinky." It's the one time someone didn't get MY name wrong.

When I started my first job in the newspaper business, I had a wonderful editor, the late Bob Kyer. He kind of took me under his wing, since I was young and fresh out of school. His nickname for me was "Tomorrow Belink." Some of my co-workers actually thought that was my name for a while.

I made a vow when we decided to have children that I wouldn't give my children hard to pronounce or spell first names. My daughter's name is Tessa Kate, very easy names to pronounce. I don't think she'll ever have to correct anyone on the spelling, either.

And, now, because of her, I have a new name, "Tessa's Mom." That's what most of the kids in her class call me.

I've answered to Tamara, George, Tomorrow, Bambi, Bebop, Momma and now, Tessa's Mom. I promise, you call me by one of those names, and I'll answer.

Just don't call me Tammy.

-- Tomorrow Belink is a staff writer for the Times-Gazette. She can be reached at tambelinc@gmail.com.