My finger hurts but I don't know which one

For about two weeks everyone and everything in the house had one name-Dada. I was dada, Dakota was dada, the sippy cup was dada, and you get the picture. Well this week we are now all mama! I have heard Dakota tell Dalton many times now that “I not mama! I’m Dakota!” Slowly he is starting to call me mama and Graeme dada. He has a few other “words” such as dog and thank you, at this point only Graeme and I (and Stormy) know that he is saying dog and thank you but I promise, that’s what he means. He also goes around the house pointing at the things he wants, unfortunately for him most those things are off limits. He is obsessed with coffee mugs! He comes straight at you hooting and pointing and grabbing for your mug like it is some huge prize. I’m not sure what that is all about because he doesn’t really want what’s in the cup, he just WANTS it. Meanwhile in the Qberry household I am trying to convince my daughter that her foot, back, finger, head etc doesn’t hurt, that she doesn’t need a band-aid or medicine. I think she’s going to be a hypochondriac; she is convinced that she needs medicine for every little bump and bruise and growing ache. She is also very considerate and will offer you medicine if you tell her you are not feeling well. She told me last week that “it’s ok mommy, Daddy will get you medicine” when I told her I wasn’t feeling well. I suppose I should foster this desire to take care of other people and maybe she’ll be a nurse or doctor when she grows up. Well, that’s the happening around here, my son is learning to talk and my daughter is trying to convince me that her finger really does hurt and that I should tell her which one needs a band-aid. Yes you read that correctly, I’m supposed to tell her which one is hurt because she doesn’t know.