Picture Puzzle #3

Here is the first portion of Picture Puzzle #3:

To make a guess at the location in this photo, post a comment or email me. A little more will be revealed each day in the section labeled "Picture Puzzle" in the right column.

Grammar Misdemeanors

"Me and her are going to the park."

A sentence like this, spoken aloud in my mother's presence, would have raised the dreaded Red Flag of English Errors in my growing up years. No matter how occupied she was with something else, her ears would have perked up, her eyebrows would have jumped an inch, and her mouth would have opened involuntarily as the corrected sentence burst forth from her lips. I used to cringe whenever one of my friends used the word "ain't" in front of my mother, because there was no stopping the free-flow of incorrect-grammar-detection and the resulting lecture on proper speech. (Even as I write this, I am carefully choosing words and sentence structure so that, in the unlikely event of my mother reading this post, I will not receive a red-pen corrected version in my email.) I found it rather embarrassing when my mom would repeat a sentence spoken by one of my friends, giving the correct version along with the "why that is the right way to say it" English lesson.

By far the worst offense was the use of the word "snuck". This would actually produce something akin to righteous indignation. "Snuck" was a common word to use in place of "sneaked" which was, at that time, the correct past tense version of "sneak". However, as an interesting note, "snuck" became so common that it is now the accepted past participle (it sounds like I know what I'm talking about, doesn't it?) for "sneak". Microsoft Word recognizes "snuck" as a valid word entry and Merriam-Webster's online dictionary acknowledges its use without even referring to it as slang. Breathe, Mom.

Why am I taking time to write about this now? Because yesterday, my 6-year old came in the front door after school and began telling me about something that his classmate "brang" to school. Immediately, the red flag popped up in my mind and, before I could stop myself, the word "brought" burst forth from my lips, and I realized that the next generation of grammar police had donned its mantel of authority.

(For those who care, the correct form of the sentence at the top is: "She and I are going to the park." The way to check for correctness is to separate "she/her" and "me/I" and try each by itself in the sentence. In my mother's words, "You would not say 'Her is going to the park' but rather 'She is going to the park'; and you would not say 'Me is going...' ", etc. If this lesson offends you, I'm sorry, it's just the way I was raised.)

Chasing My Shadow

Everyone should have a personal flusher. Never heard of that? Here's the job description. A personal flusher is someone who accompanies you on every trip to the bathroom and attends closely to your toilet needs. Duties range from simply keeping you company and flushing for you when you finish (or sometimes before) to supplying toilet paper and even using it on you. Your personal flusher may extend his/her duties to include rearranging items in bathroom drawers, inspecting the bath tub, or road-testing your toothbrush. Very attentive personal flushers tend to stay tuned to the happenings around the toilet and flush anywhere from 3-10 times. I am now on my third personal flusher, so I speak from experience.

While it's not always ideal to have this kind of attention, at least I know where she is. Lately, I spend much of my time chasing my shadow. The moment I am occupied with something in the kitchen, my shadow makes a bee-line for the computer. Quick as a flash, she is up two flights of stairs to the loft and pulling with her mighty little stomach muscles to get up on the chair and in front of that precious button-rich laptop. Above is a photo of her using the laptop in the dining room. (I chose not to include, or even create, a photo depicting her personal flusher status.) When I am using the computer, she makes a bee-line for other intriguing items--pencils and pens left unattended, the cat's water dish, a toilet, or my purse. The other day, when it was eerily quiet, I hunted her down and found that she had mated my chapstick and lipstick. As I was cleaning up the resulting mess, I thought perhaps she had in fact made a break-through. Think about it--a lipstick that is also chapstick. Not a bad idea, right?

If she weren't so cute, some of these things might start to get on my nerves. I really don't need someone to flush for me. I can handle it. I'd rather the laptop, my purse, and other important personal items be left alone. But I do feel very blessed to have someone who loves me, loves my stuff, and wants to be a part of everything I do. So I guess I will continue to enjoy the benefits of having a personal flusher. May you be so lucky.

Camouflage Colors

I have developed a subconscious habit of planning what to have for dinner each night based on the color I am wearing that day. Since it's practically impossible to both cook and eat a meal without splashing something on my shirt, it's just easier to wear the color I will be eating. And I've noticed that this habit slips into my morning routine as well. Sometimes the planning happens the opposite way--I choose what to wear based on the food I'm in the mood for. Certain colors are simply mouth-watering. Here are my clothing flavors as seen above (from L-R): Sloppy-Joe, Pesto, Cherry Pie, Chicken-and-Wild-Rice Soup, and Meatloaf. Mmmmm!

For some unexplained reason, the addition of a third child to our household resulted in an exponential increase in dirty laundry. It defies the laws of...well, something. When I got married, the laundry pile basically doubled, as one would expect. When child A came along, the laundry pile grew by the appropriate amount for one additional person. Child B--same story. But child C somehow caused a population explosion in the laundry basket. How this can be, when her clothes are so tiny, is really a mystery to me. But I believe this is why I have developed the clothing flavor habit--as a kind of defense mechanism to cope with the omnipresent Laundry. If you can't see the stain, the shirt doesn't actually have to be washed, does it?

Crimes of the Ear: The Accomplices

Parenting 101: Do not buy noise-making toys for your own children. You can buy them as gifts or party favors or prizes for other people's children, but under no circumstances should you bring them home intending to keep them under your own roof.

It will be almost irresistible at times because, in the store, those noise-makers are a great way to entertain a fussy child. You will imagine hours and hours of blissful freedom as a result of buying that toy and letting it babysit your child. But do NOT be fooled. The moment you bring that toy home, it's sole purpose will be to annoy you. Trust me. You will only regret it.

The noise-accomplices pictured above are but two small examples of this annoyance and regret. Yes, they look innocent in the photo, but they are in reality partners in crime. When his arm is pulled and released, the monkey screams like a banshee and scares the living daylights out of all of us. The well-dressed frog is a lesser felon, acting primarily as an advertisment for the Air Force. Squeeze his froggy hand and his adult male voice will say, "KC-45: Giving the war-fighter the edge." But even his softer sound can become grating after 23 or more times a day.

So, as a friend, I offer this hard-earned advice: no matter how tempting it is, or how cute the little stuffed creature, just say no to those infiltrating, noise-making toys.

Picture Puzzle #2 Solved!

And the winner is...Jerilyn! I wish I could email you a prize or beam one to you or something. Anyway, the correct answer is Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington. The beautiful estate overlooks the Potomac River. This photo was taken from a boat that leaves from the Mount Vernon pier.

Alter-ego: Umbridge

Hopefully you haven't noticed this before, but I bear a striking resemblance to Dolores Umbridge (of Harry Potter fame). I know what you're thinking--I'm much prettier, much nicer, and much more magical than Professor Umbridge. At least that's what I would like you to be thinking. But the truth is, I can be a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde, especially when it comes to running my household. Sweet and patient one moment, hard-nosed and unyielding the next.

My children recently started saying, "You're like Umbridge!" whenever I introduce a new rule. So I have begun referring to my rules as "Household Decrees." I'm sure we have many of the same rules you have at your house, but we probably also have a few that are unique and created specifically for my personal idiosyncracies. (One that comes to mind is "No whistling in the car." If this rule is not one of yours, I highly recommend it. It has brought great peace and harmony to my realm.)

Here is our latest. We're calling it "Household Decree Number 27":

"Anyone found leaving a bathroom door open shall be fined 25 cents for the first violation, 50 cents thereafter, and an additional fee shall apply if the baby does any damage before the mistake is discovered and rectified."

Now I just need a faithful caretaker to come and nail my decrees to our castle wall. (Actually, I think that would be a violation of one of my husband's decrees about putting unnecessary holes in the wall.)

Picture Puzzle #2

Okay, here's the first peek at Picture Puzzle #2. Like last time, new additions to the photo can be seen in the sidebar section to the right, under "PicturePuzzles." Any guesses yet?

Searching for Evidence of Gratitude

Do any of these phrases sound familiar?

"WHEN is dinner going to be ready?"
"Are you ever going to clean my toilet?"
"That is really dirty! You should clean that."

These are actual quotes spoken by my children to me over the past few weeks. The appropriate responses are something along these lines:

"As soon as you're done setting the table." (And "By the way, you will eat it whether you like it or not.")
"No, but you can."
"If you are grossed out by the dirt you have spread throughout the house, then get down on your hands and knees and start scrubbing."

I've known for years that cleaning on behalf of children is a thankless job, but these comments are taking things a little too far. However, as I am always on the lookout for ways to see the good in my kids, I paid close attention over the last few days to what my children were saying and tried hard to find some tiny shred of evidence that they appreciate me. Last night, I found it. Here it is (you will have to squint hard to find the gratitude):

Over dinner last night, my husband jokingly said, "Okay. Who wants to go to bed early?" I immediately responded, "Me!" The boys were vigorously shaking their heads, "No." My husband said it would be great if we (the adults) were able to get to bed early. Our 6-year old looked worried and pleadingly said, "What will we do without you?" Translation: "Who will get our dessert?" We assured him we would not really go to bed early, thereby setting them loose on an unsuspecting house. Examining his comment closely, I was able to find a teensy bit of gratitude in there. It's microscopic, but still...

(Credit: The above illustration is by Jeff Bucchino, "The Wizard of Draws"; more clip art can be found on his website: http://www.wizardofdraws.com/)