It’s Complicated

LagosDad and I have been trying to figure out how to tell V that he’s going to have a younger sibling by the end of the summer.

But we are finding it a bit complicated.

I’ve tried testing the waters a little bit and have had a couple of “big brother” and “baby brother or sister” conversations.  I think we are in trouble.

This is how the last conversation went…

Oh – we were watching Charlie and Lola.

Me: Oh how nice! Isn’t Charlie such a good big brother? He always takes care of Lola. I think you would be a good big brother.

V: No.

Me: You know, many of your friends have little brothers and sisters.  And some of your friends have big brothers or sisters *gives examples*

V (after a slight pause): Where can we get one?

Me: Well, babies grow in their mama’s tummy.  So we would grow the baby in my tummy.

V: No.  No.  I’m the only baby allowed in your tummy!

Oh.  Crap.

My grandmother’s advice was to stop asking him if he’d like a baby brother or sister and to just tell him that he’s getting one!

Sounds like good advice to me.

All I know is we have to do it soon.  As in today.

We’ve got birthday parties for the next FOUR Saturdays – and we need to tell him before he hears it from someone else!

Any advice?

Bizarre Bazaar

There’s a bazaar on Saturday and I’ve bought myself a table!

I’m rather excited about it – because it’ll give me a chance to really get my name ‘out there’.

But I’m also very nervous.

1. Should I take all my products?  All the shoes and all the clothes?

2. I don’t want to be scrabbling around under the table looking for sizes!

3. What will be the best way to display my products so that I *don’t* have to scrabble around under the table? *makes mental note to find out size of table*

4. Should I take everything? (I know this was number one, but it’s really bothering me.)

5. Who can come with me to help?

Does anyone have any experience of taking part in a bazaar?  Any words of wisdom?

 

(I know the title of this post makes so sense. It’s named after a mix-up in a school newsletter a few years ago)

I Don’t Need Your Advice… But Thanks!

Vinay needed a haircut.  Desperately.  And I *knew* what was going to happen when he had it.  I could just imagine the tears and screaming.  So I asked Hub to take him on Saturday.  And he agreed! (Lovely Husband).

He took him to the same salon I used to go to regularly.  I haven’t been there in months (for several reasons).  Anyway, so apparently the tears and screaming were just as I imagined they would be and to distract him a little during the haircut, Hub gave him a BlackBerry case that happened to be lying on the table at the salon.

Vinay was still teary when they came home and he was still holding the BlackBerry case.  Hub gave it to me and asked me to return it during the week.  I knew I was going to *have* to go in there…

I dropped by there this morning on the way back from playgroup.  Vinay was clutching a few Nairas (local currency) which he’d taken from my wallet in the car when we went in.  He remembered the place when we arrived and started squirming and whining immediately (he sounds like a dog!).

I greeted the owner – the man who used to do my hair.  Like I said, I hadn’t seen him for months.  Maybe about 9 or 10?  

The first thing he told me was that I shouldn’t let my son hold that money because the notes are very dirty.  And that *he* always keeps new notes in his pocket for his son.  Granted, the notes were quite manky (as they usually are) – but so?  He was coming home and going into the bath straight away, anyway!

I then tried to put V down on the sofa while we had a quick chat – but he had already spotted the man who cut his hair and was very clingy.  I said, ‘Oh – I think he’s a bit scared!’  Response I received?  ‘You know why?  It’s because you don’t take him out enough.’  

WTF?

I didn’t really feel the need to explain that I take him to playgroup 4-5 times a week (yes, we’ve increased it from 3).  I made my excuses and left.

I don’t know if he means well, or if he actually thinks his parenting skills are better than mine – but I wish he’d keep his advice to himself.  Unless I ask for it!

It’s been bugging me all day.  And I’ve remembered why I don’t go there anymore!