Nicknaming My Child

For how much longer is it appropriate to call my child Lady Burplesworth III?

For that matter, let's add: Munchie, Munchkin, Munchinator, Munch, and Jelly Bean. Some casual research on the subject leads me to two conclusions.

First, these nicknames add, in a small amount, to my child's "lexical diversity." Why does this matter? According to Janellen Huttenlochera, Heidi Waterfallb, Marina Vasilyevac, Jack Vevead, and Larry V. Hedgese, authors of a study published in Cognitive Psychology in December 2010 entitled, "Sources of variability in children’s language growth," the diversity of my speech "significantly predicts corresponding diversity" in my child's later speech. The study doesn't focus on nicknames, it looks at several aspects of speech between children and caregivers, but the authors do account for nicknames as part of a very young child's lexical diversity. While the authors of the study would quantify all of the variations of "Munch" as adding only "1" to lexical diversity, the terms Jelly Bean, and Lady Burblesworth III, add "5."Knowing this, I may add more nicknames to increase her lexical diversity. Of course they can't all be names for her, so I may add some nicknames that also expand her vocabulary: "Little Apple" or "Little Happy."

Second, nicknames are definitely an aspect of teasing. If I value my child's self-esteem and identity, I must create positive-trait nicknames. Her Majesty Miss Hugs A Lot, Ms. Smiles, and Lady Lost-in-Thought seem cool. And, yes, correct; being lost in thought is a good quality.

Perhaps the question I should care about is not "How much more time do I have to use the nicknames Burplesworth and Jelly Bean? (although this time is precious)," but rather, "Just what the hell am I trying to say with these nicknames?"