Littleboy 1 is a little confused about names. He now knows his own surname, and takes great delight in telling people. But for a while he also insisted that he was the only person called that. When we told him that his brother is also called P___ and Mummy, and Daddy, he got very cross, shouting, “No, I am the only P___.”
He also surprised me the other day by coming out with MY Christian name – not Mummy – as I poured myself a cup of tea. “Is that tea for you, [NappyValleyGirl?]” he enquired rather mischievously.
Yes, I replied, that is my name. I tried valiantly to keep a straight face, but it didn’t work. He then laughed hysterically for about five minutes.
Another day, he was at soft play, and got talking to another child’s nanny who was sitting in the ball pit with them (it’s only ever the nannies who do that, I notice). He had obviously told her his name, and then I saw him pointing over to me and shouting, at the top of his lungs:
“And THAT’s Mummy P____.”
Cover blown then.
I suppose it must be weird, working out for the first time that Mummy and Daddy possess their own, separate identities. And not only that, but everyone in the family has the same surname. (It must be even more confusing if you’re not married or haven’t changed your name – I still use my maiden name for work, and have bank cards in both names, so it gets confusing even for me at times....)
Another reason I am pondering names is that one of my friends, who gets a fair bit of mention in this blog, wants a Name. She doesn’t just want to be referred to as a kind friend or a local friend any more - she wants to be elevated to Named Character Status.
I've been struggling with this, I admit. The Doctor and the Littleboys were easily monikered, and are fairly self-explanatory. (The Doctor also gives me a little frisson of amuseument, as I picture him dressed like Doctor Who, holding a sonic screwdriver and about to save the world from Daleks).
But how can I sum up my friend? She’s not a Yummy Mummy; no, she’s far too down to earth for that. And she’s certainly not a Slummy Mummy. She could be Nightingale Triangle Mummy (because that’s the estate-agenty type name for the area in which she lives). But that ain’t particularly snappy.
Aha. I know. I recall the time I met her in Waitrose on about the 28th of December. “I’ve just bought all my Christmas cards and wrapping paper,” she exclaimed. “For next year!”
This was not untypical. This woman plans ahead. She thinks about her daughters’ birthday parties several months in advance (unlike me, who sends out invitations the week before, and is then surprised that no-one can come). At Christmas, she had organised so many fun, interesting outings for her kids to do by about November, that when I suggested we might go to the theatre with the children in December, she had to confess that they had two theatre trips booked that weekend already. And this is someone with two children under four who works four days a week; so, I think you will agree, impressive?
So I think I will call her Stupendously Organised Mummy. I hope she's happy with that.