Choosing a name for your child is a big deal. The name you pick can shape how people see them and how they are treated for their whole life. While many parents go for classic names like Elizabeth or William, some are picking more modern or unusual names. Recently, a social media influencer named her daughter after a Disney character, and people online have mixed feelings about it.
Indy Clinton is an Australian fitness and lifestyle blogger with over 600,000 followers on Instagram and TikTok. She lives in Sydney with her husband, son, and daughter. When her daughter was born last year, her fans were excited. However, some people questioned her choice of name when she revealed that she named her daughter after a Disney character. In the end, she chose the name Bambi, even though she originally considered Paloma, which means Dove in Spanish.
Indy is no stranger to unique names—her son’s name is Navy. But the name she chose for her daughter, Bambi, surprised many fans. Indy shared, “We were set on calling her Paloma at first. That was her name, and nothing was going to change that. But one night, while reading a book to Navy, I suddenly thought, ‘What about Bambi?’ And from then on, it stuck.”
The story of Bambi is both heartbreaking and uplifting. It’s about a baby deer whose mother dies, and after a few tough moments, the story turns into one of friendship and adventure.
Unsurprisingly, fans were divided over the name choice. Some questioned Indy’s decision, with one person commenting, “Imagine being an adult named this. These baby names are mad these days.” Another person wrote, “Are you naming humans that will be adults one day? Or kittens?”
A third person thoughtfully pointed out, “Kids can be cruel. A unique name isn’t something to shy away from, but a name tied to a character might not be ideal for your child.” They added that being named after a Disney character in middle school could be challenging.
Alternatively, some fans defended Indy’s choice. “People need to shut it. She can name her baby anything she wants. I think it’s adorable,” wrote one supportive follower. Another added, “Congratulations! It’s a wonderful name for your baby.”
“So happy, love the name,” a third person commented.
Indy explained that she’s always loved the story of Bambi, even as a little girl. Seeing her daughter’s “sweet, curious nature, and big brown eyes” made the name feel like a perfect fit. She also noted that while opinions are split, “unique names are the new trend.”
Interestingly, Bambi is derived from the Italian word “bambino,” which means child or baby. In the Disney film and books, Bambi is a male character. This creative choice might make Bambi a popular gender-neutral name in the future. For example, reality star Molly-Mae Hague also named her daughter Bambi, though it’s unclear if she chose the name because of the Disney character or simply because she liked it.
Interestingly, Bambi isn’t the only Disney character whose name has become popular for real-life people. Several Disney characters have everyday names. For instance, the dog from *The Little Mermaid* is named Max. Additionally, many characters from *Frozen* have names that are common in Scandinavia. Elsa, for example, is often short for Elizabeth, and Olaf means “heir” in Scandinavian languages.
*The Princess and the Frog* is a heartwarming story about a Black woman named Tiana who works hard to achieve her dream of opening a restaurant, despite the challenges she faced growing up. Interestingly, according to Babynames.com, the name Tiana has Slavic origins. Regardless of its roots, Tiana has been a popular name in the U.S., consistently appearing in the top 1,000 baby names since the 1970s.
Aurora is a Latin name that originally referred to the “Roman Goddess of the Dawn.” It’s a beautiful name that symbolizes powerful feminine energy and the splendor of the night sky.
Merida is another Disney character with a name that works well in real life. The character herself is Scottish, but the name Merida is thought to have Celtic or Spanish origins.
Chip is the name of a charming and lovable chipmunk, as well as a little boy turned into a teacup in *Beauty and the Beast*. It’s an English name derived from Charles but isn’t as popular today. Despite this, Bambi, which is becoming a popular choice for baby girls, is seen as a gender-neutral name.
Indy, known for being a super mom, announced her third pregnancy just months after Bambi was born. As a social media influencer, she skillfully balances her roles as a mother, wife, and a role model for women everywhere.
The HOA President Fined Me Over My Lawn – I Provided Him with More Reasons to Pay Attention
Larry, our clipboard-wielding HOA dictator, had no idea who he was messing with when he fined me for my lawn being half an inch too long. I decided to give him something to really look at, a lawn so outrageous, yet so perfectly within the rules, that he’d regret ever starting this fight.
For decades, my neighborhood was the kind of place where you could sip tea on your porch in peace, wave to the neighbors, and not worry about a thing.
Then Larry got his grubby hands on the HOA presidency.
Oh, Larry. You know the type: mid-50s, born in a pressed polo shirt, thinks the world revolves around his clipboard. From the moment he took office, it was like someone handed him the keys to a kingdom.
Or at least, that’s what he thought.
Now, I’ve been living here for twenty-five years. Raised three kids in this house. Buried a husband too. And you know what I’d learned?
Don’t mess with a woman who’s survived kids and a man who thought barbeque sauce was a vegetable. Larry clearly didn’t get that memo.
Ever since I skipped his precious HOA meeting last summer, he’s been out for blood. Like I needed to hear two hours of droning on about fence heights and paint colors. I had more important things to do — like watching my begonias bloom.
It all started last week.
I was out on the porch, minding my business, when I spotted Larry marching up the driveway, clipboard in hand.
“Oh, here we go,” I muttered, already feeling my blood pressure spike.
He stopped right at the foot of the steps, and didn’t even bother with a hello.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’m afraid you’ve violated the HOA’s lawn maintenance standards.”
I blinked at him, trying to keep my temper in check. “Is that so? The lawn’s been freshly mowed. Just did it two days ago.”
“Well,” he said, clicking his pen like he was about to write me up for a felony, “it’s half an inch too long. HOA standards are very clear about this.”
I stared at him. Half. An. Inch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His smug little grin told me otherwise.
“We have standards here, Mrs. Pearson. If we let one person get away with neglecting their lawn, what kind of message does that send?”
Oh, I could’ve throttled him right there. But I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled sweetly and said, “Thanks for the heads-up, Larry. I’ll be sure to trim that extra half-inch for you.”
Inside, though? I was fuming. Who did this guy think he was? Half an inch?
I’ve survived diaper blowouts, PTA meetings, and a husband who once tried to roast marshmallows using a propane torch. I wasn’t about to let Larry the Clipboard King push me around.
That night, I sat in my armchair, stewing over the whole thing. I thought about all the times in my life I’d been told to “follow the rules,” and how I’d managed to bend them just enough to keep my sanity.
If Larry wanted to play hardball, fine. Two could play that game.
And then it hit me: the HOA rulebook. That stupid, dusty old thing Larry was always quoting. I hadn’t bothered with it much over the years, but now it was time to get acquainted.
I flipped through it for a good hour, and there it was. Clear as day. Lawn decorations, tasteful, of course, were completely allowed, as long as they stayed within certain size and placement guidelines.
Oh, Larry. You poor, unfortunate soul. You had no idea what you’d just unleashed.
The very next morning, I went on the shopping spree of a lifetime. It was glorious. I bought gnomes. Not just any gnomes, though, giant ones. One was holding a lantern, another was fishing in a little fake pond I set up in the garden.
And an entire flock of pink, plastic flamingos. I clustered them together like they were planning some sort of tropical rebellion.
Then came the solar lights. I lined the walkway, the garden, and even hung a few in the trees. By the time I was done, my yard looked like a cross between a fairy tale and a Florida souvenir shop.
And the best part? Every single piece was perfectly HOA-compliant. Not a single rule was broken. I leaned back in my lawn chair, watching the sun set behind my masterpiece.
The twinkling lights came to life, casting a warm glow over my gnome army and the flamingo brigade. It was, in a word, glorious.
But Larry, oh Larry, was not going to take this lying down.
The first time he saw my yard, I knew I had him. I was watering the petunias when I spotted his car creeping down the street. His windows rolled down, his eyes narrowing as they scanned every inch of my lawn.
The way his jaw clenched, his fingers tight on the steering wheel — it was priceless. He slowed to a crawl, staring at the gnome with the margarita, lounging in his lawn chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I gave Larry a little wave, extra sweet, as if I didn’t know I’d just declared war.
He stared at me, his face turning the color of a sunburned tomato, and then, without a word, he sped off.
I let out a laugh so loud it startled a squirrel in the oak tree. “That’s right, Larry. You can’t touch this.”
For a few days, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d let it go. Silly me. A week later, there he was again, stomping up to my door with that clipboard, wearing his HOA President badge like he’d been knighted.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, not even bothering with pleasantries, “I’ve come to inform you that your mailbox violates HOA standards.”
I blinked at him. “The mailbox?” I tilted my head toward it. “Larry, I just painted that thing two months ago. It’s pristine.”
He squinted at it like he’d found some imaginary flaw. “The paint is chipping,” he insisted, scribbling something on his clipboard.
I glanced at the mailbox again. Not a chip in sight. But I knew this wasn’t about the mailbox. This was personal.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “All this over half an inch of grass?”
“I’m just enforcing the rules,” Larry said, but the look in his eyes told a different story.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sure, Larry. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He turned on his heel and strutted back to his car like he’d just delivered some life-altering decree. I watched him go, fury bubbling up inside me. Oh, he thought he could win this? Fine. Let the games begin.
That night, I hatched a plan. If Larry wanted a fight, he was going to get one. I spent the next morning back at the garden store, loading up on more gnomes, more flamingos, and just for fun, a motion-activated sprinkler system.
By the time I was done, my yard looked like a carnival of absurdity. Gnomes of all sizes stood proudly in formation, some fishing, some holding tiny shovels, and one, my new favorite, lounging in a hammock with a miniature beer in hand.
The flamingos? They’d formed their own pink plastic army, marching across the lawn with solar lights guiding their way.
But the pièce de résistance? The sprinkler system. Every time Larry came by to inspect my yard, the motion sensor would activate, spraying water in every direction. Totally by accident, of course.
The first time it happened, I nearly fell off the porch laughing.
Larry pulled up, clipboard ready, only to be met with a stream of water straight to the face. He spluttered, waving his arms like a drowning cat, and retreated to his car, soaked to the bone.
The look of pure outrage on his face was worth every penny I’d spent.
But the best part? The neighbors started to notice.
One by one, they began stopping by to compliment my “creative flair.”
Mrs. Johnson from three houses down said she loved the “whimsical” atmosphere. Mr. Thompson chuckled, saying he hadn’t seen Larry so flustered in years. And soon, it wasn’t just compliments. The neighbors started putting up their own lawn decorations.
It began with a few garden gnomes, but soon, flamingos popped up all over the cul-de-sac, twinkling lights appeared in every yard, and someone even set up a miniature windmill.
Larry couldn’t keep up.
His clipboard became a joke. The once-feared fines became a badge of honor among the residents, and the more he tried to tighten his grip, the more the neighborhood slipped through his fingers.
Every day, Larry had to drive past our gnomes, our flamingos, and our lights, knowing full well that we’d beaten him at his own game.
And me? I watched the chaos unfold with a smile on my face.
The whole neighborhood had come together, united by lawn ornaments and sheer spite. And Larry, poor Larry, was left powerless, just a man with a soggy clipboard and no authority to back it up.
So, Larry, if you’re reading this, keep on looking. I’ve got plenty more ideas where these came from.
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