That’s not the deal

It’s nice to be off the tough-love topic for a while, and relax in the dream that is Lily. She is a little star, and despite all of our issues of late, she remains a truly lovely, bright little girl. 

Lily is just about to hit 2 years and 9 months, just three months shy of her 3rd birthday (I did maths there…did you see it?). My dad will be impressed. I used to browse the internet for all the milestones that she is supposed to meet by certain ages, but I stopped that some time ago. Kids will hit their milestones when they are good and ready, not when published literature tells us. So for now I will relish in her funny and vivacious qualities.

Recently we have witnessed Lily’s comedic side more and more. She can be so funny, and knows it too. 

She was offered breakfast one morning by Allan, but had already spotted the Smarties on the kitchen work top. She asked him if she could have the Smarties while she waited for her breakfast, but Allan said no. It was breakfast time, and she could have them later. Without taking a breath, she piped up, “That’s not the deal”! I have to add here that at times they do make deals for treats, and Lily obviously thought this particular deal was a bummer!

We were talking one day about where milk comes from. Lily knows that milk comes from cows, but up until that day I hadn’t told her how it was milked from the cow. I decided to show her the good old fashioned way of milking by hand, via You Tube, and after that, I showed her the modern method. She was so excited to see this man, squeezing down the milk from the cows teats in to the bucket. I explained all about the udders housing the milk before it is squeezed out, and how it was all warm and not like the milk she has from the fridge. She had given the whole process some thought over the course of the day, as later she said to me, that when she was a bigger girl and had grown boobles, she could squeeze them and get milked too! Tah da. 

How is it that very small children know how to use your mobile phone better than we do ourselves? Lily has made two event reminders recently, both titled something like – ffffhhhhgggjjjjttthhkklll – whatever the events were, she scrambled it so I didn’t know what they were. Clever eh? She has downloaded games from the android store on to my phone, and I’ve found her playing them quite eagerly. How does she know what ones she will be able to play? I baked a cake recently for friends who were getting engaged (it was a surprise for her, but not everyone else, who was in on it) and I would normally put a photo up on Facebook. Given that I had to wait until the party was over, to post the photo, it came as a great shock to find Lily hunched over my phone, with the picture of the cake, already downloaded on to a post on my Facebook page, just waiting for the publish icon to be touched! Arghhhh…..really! How on earth did she do that? She takes photos of herself (mainly feet, arms and ears) and I have found numerous videos of herself or the furniture. The next time I have problems with the phone, I’m just going to give it to Lily to fix, because sure as hell, she can!

Lily was recounting a dream to Allan that she had a few nights ago (it may never have even been a dream, because she is so fanciful with the truth!), but any way, the dream was about a mummy, daddy and baby elephant coming to the house to play bingo. Allan said to her that he didn’t think they would be able to get through the front door to play bingo, to which she replied, “Yes they would. They would come round to the back door”! Stupid daddy. What does he know?

Following in my baking footsteps, Lily made me a cake. A very special cake, made from stones from the garden, topped with grapes and bits of torn paper, to give it that little bit of shaz-zing! As she placed it down beside me she said, “My work here is done”! What more needs to have been said?

I have a friend called Monica – Moni to all that know her. I have spoken of her to Lily. Not often, but if I get a text from her I’ll mention it to Lily. I’m telling you this because Lily has an imaginary friend, and has a name quite similar to Moni. I’ve tried lots of times to ‘change’ the name, as it’s quite inappropriate if she were to introduce her bestie to people outside the family or close circle of friends, who know of this imaginary pal. Her friend is called Mongy….there I’ve said it. I don’t know if this word means anything to anyone other than my British friends, but in part, it’s a derogatory name for someone of a less able mind. Let’s leave it there. It’s mortifying that she uses this word, in oblivion I know, but Mongy is here to stay for the foreseeable future. He/she/it takes many forms, from female to male, and other species. He/she/it comes every day for dinner and play dates with Lily. She sets places for he/she/it and quite often I make up a separate plate for lunch. Woe betide anyone who doesn’t play along. She managed to open word pad one day, and was happily tippy tapping away her ’email’, telling Mongy all her tales and news. After she had done this she looked up at me and said, “After I’ve done my email mummy, I’ll need your bank account”! Dream on little lady…..oh hang on… it’s not a dream is it? It’s going to happen one day. I’ll find her hacking in to my online banking.

And lastly…

Allan had gone upstairs to help Lily with wiping after a poop. When he went in to the bathroom  she said, “Does my poop stink”? Allan said yes it does a bit, to which she replied, “No it doesn’t, it smells like flowers”!

Got to love that kid of mine.




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