Talk-talk

Wow, has it been this long?

I haven't felt inspired to write a blog post in awhile. Or rather, I have been inspired, but certain family members don't find their antics as blog-worthy as I do. (Something about teenagers and tweens and extreme privacy needs, apparently). Sure, I could share stories about mood swings so intense that they're almost comical. For example, a child might be very cheerful and chatty, telling me about something funny a friend said or did. Then this child might go in the kitchen and look in the refrigerator for a few seconds. When he or she comes back out, I might ask, "Hey, has [the friend] started driver's ed yet?" Without warning this child and I are no longer buddies; I have inexplicably become the enemy in the span of 4 seconds. I get a dark glare and a disgusted, "I don't know!"

[OK, PSY-cho!]

Despite their toddler-like mood swings, I should add: I do enjoy the teenagers 99 percent of the time. Or at least 90 percent of the time. Maybe 87 percent... And the depth of their mortification at me, at what I say, or do, or ask -- O.M.G.! -- actually amuses me.

The littlest kid also provides a regular stream of blog fodder, but everything that happens with her is such a whirlwind - she's at 78 rpm and my brain is struggling to run at 33 (a reference that will be lost on anyone under 40), so I forget a lot. I should probably carry one of those little dictation tape recorders to help me remember all of her high-jinks and funny sayings. She continues to attend speech class and her pronunciation is improving, but her use of pronouns... not so much. She's got "she" vs. "he" down, but "him" vs. "he" challenges her. All five of us correct her, but since she likes to talk trash and/or accuse Ethan of misdeeds he may or may not have committed, we end up with a lot of exchanges like this:
"Ethan said him going to put me in jail!"
"He's going to put you in jail, sweetie."
Or
"Ha ha, Ethan's a monster and him have a tail!"
"Ethan's a monster and he has a tail."

Sometimes you hear what you're repeating back to her, grammar corrected ("He's going to take your arms off and he's going to sew them to your butt") and you just shake your head at it.

It's not always grammar we're correcting. I had to tell her the other day that you don't refer to your mother as "hey woman," and even though Ethan might say "Don't be a pansy" when he's wrestling with her, that's not nice talk for little girls.

Another gem she learned from Ethan is this:

I shudder to think what impression she might make on the kindergarten class next year. (Kindergarten round-up is coming up this month!)

"Mom, Ethan said I going to kindergarten round-up and him going to catch me with a rope and tie me up!"
"He's going to catch you with a rope and tie you up..."