Sharing is Caring

V:  Mama see!  I’m eating banana chips!

Me: Oh that’s nice.  Yummy.

V:  Would you like to have one?

Me (in absolute shock): Oh, yes please!  Will you give me one?

V: No!  It’s all for me.

I remembered that I had a small packet of Oreos in my handbag and went off to get them.  I went into the playroom, sat on the sofa and started eating them.

V: Mama, I want one.

Me: Nope.  You can’t have.  They’re all mine.

V: But why?

Me: You didn’t give me any of your banana chips, so why should I give you one of my cookies?

V: Because sharing is caring!

*face palm*

The Baby’s Dada (Grandfather)

Like most people in the world, I have spent the last two days glued to Sky News.

Not only did I want to see history being made (or born?), but I was feeling a bit sentimental and emotional as V was also born in the Lindo Wing.

I wanted V to watch with me.  Even though he probably won’t remember seeing it, I wanted him to know that he had watched it.  He wasn’t keen.  I suppose after watching a set of doors – with no one going in or out of them – for two minutes was enough for him!

I explained that a baby was being born in that hospital and that the baby was very special.  I told him that he was born in the same hospital.  I told him the name of the hospital and made him repeat it, etc. 

Since I made it ‘all about him’, he was happy to sit for a few more minutes.  This was at the time when Charles and Camilla arrived to visit their new grandson.

Me: Look Vinay.  That’s Prince Charles.  He’s the baby’s dada (paternal grandfather).

V: He the dada?

Me: Yes.  He’s come to visit the Royal Baby in the hospital.

V: But what about the dada in Ikoyi (an area in Lagos)?

Me: Vinay – that’s YOUR dada, not the baby’s dada!

*face palm*


Yesterday evening I had a conversation with V that I didn’t think I’d have to have for a long time…

Me: Vinay, what are you doing?

V: I’m touching my nooni!

Silence (as I’m unsure of what to say)

V: Mama, are you have a nooni?

Me: No Vinay, mama doesn’t have a nooni.  

V: Yes mama have nooni.

Me: No Vinay, only boys have noonis and mama is a girl.

V: Papa have a nooni?

Me: Yes.  Papa has a nooni.

V: Mama also have nooni.  Mama remove your pants and show me!

Thankfully the phone rang just then and we both got distracted.

Hilarious conversation, yes.

But what will I say when he asks me what girls have if not noonis?

I do NOT want to use words like hoo-ha and vajayjay!


One of the things I said I’d never do when I became a parent, was give my child(ren) a pacifier.  

Silly me.

V will be three in four months and he still uses them.  I say ‘them’ because he has several and he takes great pleasure in choosing which one he wants to use.

I’m not worried about him growing out of it (He will grow out of it, won’t he?) – I just find it irritating that the damn thing is always in his mouth.

It started out as a soother.  It became a necessity for nap/bed time.  Now whenever he’s cranky or sulky, he wants his chupa (pacifier).  He’s cranky and/or sulky A LOT.  He wants his chupa ALL the time.  I’ve managed to restrict some of his times.  For example, he’s not allowed to take one to nursery any more.  He can use one in the car, but he’s not allowed to take it with him when we leave the car (wherever we’re going), etc.

I’ve asked people for their advice, I’ve read others’ posts about their kids and giving up their pacifiers and tried to take it all into consideration.  In fact, it was after reading this post by motherventing that I decided to broach the subject with him.

Me: Vinay, you know by Christmas time you’ll be a very big boy…

I chose Christmas as it gives him a long time to prepare himself.  Don’t think it matters though, he still says ‘yesterday’ for three weeks ago.

V: Yes.

Me: At Christmas time, you should give all your chupas away to the little babies that don’t have any chupas.  And then Santa will bring you a very big present.

V: Yes, I want Santa to bring me a big big present.

Me: And he will.  But first you have to give your chupas to the small babies.

Silence for thirty seconds.

V: No.  I don’t want any presents from Santa.

Great.  Now what?

Should I keep talking about it?  Or should I just leave it?




No – it’s not spam and I haven’t been hacked.

This post is actually called Pussy.

Two days ago Vinay and I were doing his Farm Animals sticker book.

On the page we were doing he had to place the stickers of baby animals next to their mothers.

We were talking about the animals, what the babies were called, the noises they make and how cute they are.

And the conversation took a sudden turn.

V: Mama, see pussy.

Me: See WHAT?  Oh yes, see it’s a cat!

V: No mama.  It’s pussy.

Me: Yes Vinay, it’s a cat.

V: See baby pussy.

Me: Yes – what a cute kitten!

V: No. His name is Pussy.  Pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy.

Me: Yes Vinay, it’s a mama cat and her kitten.

V: Mama, please tell Papa to buy me pussy.

Me: Should we finish the rest of this tomorrow?

V: Yes.  Goodbye pussy!

Jesus.  I thought that conversation would never end!