Names and titles

I thought I should probably explain the names of my children a bit. I’ve tried to be consistent in how I refer to them, but may not have succeeded, and also it’s boring. So here’s who they are, and sometimes why.

Lord B. His real name is Benedict. Uncle Joshy (or Brother? if I’m his “Mum”) started calling him Lord Benedict, which was too long so it ended up Lord B. He is a very aristocratic little fellow so one can hardly object. His second name is Peter. Together, his names mean Blessed Rock. This is what Fr Anthony calls him. Since he baptised him I suppose he has that prerogative.

At some point in his infancy I started call him The Bobos. Lord B, not Fr Anthony. This became Bobi at some point. Which was sometimes Bobi Sweets. Or just Sweets. Or Sweetsy Bobs. In general, we address Lord B as Bobi or Sweets. Benedict is for when he hasn’t responded to the first two. He calls himself Bobi, so I guess that’s his official name. Btw, that’s not a Bow (and arrow) bee. It’s a Boh (short and sweet) bi. Got it?

Sir A’s nicknames are even more convoluted. Technically he’s Ambrose Patrick, which means Eternal Nobleman. Cool huh? Lord B couldn’t say Ambrose when Ambrose was born, being only 17 months, so he called him Amu. Like emu, only with an Ah. Actually not. Oh well. This stuck for a while, but then we got bored of it and started improvising. Amu became Mu, which became Mooch, Moochie, Smoochie, Smooch. And somehow Mumi. Which is mostly what he is now. Sometimes Mumi Sweets. Occasionally still Smoochie (he does reallllly like to kiss, and not always a peck – can be a bit unnerving when one’s 18mo comes at one with open mouth and lolling tongue!) Very occasionally Ambrose. Oh an Little Love or Littlie sometimes. And how could I forget African Baby??

And just in case you don’t know my family, they will always be Benedict and Ambrose. If we wanted them to be called Ben and Amb we would have called them Ben and Amb. We are their parents so we can address them however we please; everyone else, not so much.

Taken around the time of his brother’s birth. The monkey (originally Simeon – totally unintentional pun, now Pummy) was made by Always Awesome Auntie Amy.

Sir A moments after birth, on his way up to start his addiction to mim.

And now to move on to something more serious… nah, can’t be bothered. I’m going to go gargle some salt and then watch some rubbish between the sleepmoaning of Lord B. Incidentally, nose frida plus eucalyptus oil (in carrier of coconut oil) rubbed into back/chest/soles of feet, plus a slightly more elevated pillow and he’s doing a lot better with the sleep thing. I wonder at what age humans realise that streaming facial orifices don’t actually mean they’re dying?


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