“Gamma! Gampapa!” cries two and a half year old Kotomi, when she throws open the front door to welcome us with squeals of joy.

The exclamations are a little different at the door of Tyler and Danielle’s house. Tyler, age 4, yells, “Grandma Robbins! Grandpa Robbins!” It’s obviously important for him to identify which set of grandparents we are.

Danielle, his 2 ½ year old sister, jumps up and down and shouts with glee, “Gandma! Gandpa!” I’m just happy to hear the excitement in their little voices. I don’t care so much what they call us.

When our first grandchild was born, my gracious daughter-in-law asked if I wanted to be called something special—something other than Grandma. I’ve never been fond of cutesy names for grandparents, but I pondered it for a moment and then replied, “Grandma works for me.” Tyler and Danielle have three sets of grandparents. One set is called “Mamaw and Papaw” by their choice. They felt it lessened the confusion if they had different names, but actually the kids tend to identify their grandparents by location rather than name. We are the Cleveland grandparents when we are talked about at home. Then there are the Marion grandparents and so on.

Kotomi calls her Japanese grandparents Jiji and Hachan instead of the more formal Ojiisan and Obaasan which can also mean old man and old lady in their language. Grandma Kawahara objects to the reference to age. I can’t blame her, especially since she looks and acts nothing like an old lady.

I did a search online for grandparent names. Space does not allow for all of them, but here is a sampling: Mom-Mom & Pop-Pop, Nana & Papa, Grandmom & Granddad, Ya-Ya & Pap-Pap, Nanny & Pepa, Baba & Papo, Bubbie & Poppie, Meema & Boppa, Nonna & Nonno (Italian in origin), Granny & Grampy, Grandmama & Grandpapa, Nanny & Pappy, Bammaw & Pyjaw.

I have a feeling many of these names came straight from the mouths of babes—the grandbabies who couldn’t pronounce Grandma or Grandpa or their counterparts when they first began to talk. Some evolved from names that were handed down through generations and, I suspect, altered by the children who uttered them. Often what to call grandparents becomes a point of contention between parents and their parents when the first grandchild is due. But when a child can’t pronounce the chosen name, he makes up one of his own and that usually becomes the name that sticks—at least until he’s a teenager. He might substitute something a little less babyish at that point depending upon his sensitive nature—like adding “dude” to the end of the name as in “Poppie-dude.”

How important is it what they call you? A Grandma or Grandpa by any other name hugs and loves just as much. As long as the name isn’t disrespectful and no harm is meant by it, an unusual or unique name can be very endearing—or descriptive, as in my favorite name find: Grumppa.