I speak it better than I write it. . .

English, that is! Spanish is the reverse. I was just reading through my blog about Emerson correcting my grammar and I realized that I didn't proof read before I posted. I somehow managed to use incorrect grammar in the last sentence. . . embarrassing and ironic!!!

PS For everyone who rushed to that post to see the mistake, don't be confused. I already fixed it! :)

Prayer Request

Recently I heard an amazing story about a young couple who had a 24 week preemie and the wife has CF. The wife has been on a transplant list for a double lung transplant since the baby was born (12 weeks ago) and tonight she is in surgery getting her new lungs. Please pray for her, her husband, her daughter and all of her family and friends. Also, please pray for the donor's family. The husband has a great blog which chronicles their story from his perspective. Their story is inspiring.

Kid conversations

Today my best friend's 2 oldest children have been staying with me. While I was cleaning up the kitchen I heard Emerson and the little girl talking (she's 4). Here's their conversation. . .

B: (holding a stuffed toy horse) "This is a horse but I call it a pony. I call everything ponies."
Em: (little pause) "You call chickens pony?"
B: "No. I call a chicken a hen."
Em: "Oh!"

Guilty

Here's a good example of how easily I tend to run into things with the car. Today I had a Dr's appointment and as I pulled into the normally crowded parking lot I noticed how few cars there were. I see lots of spaces but opt for the one up front (right across from the man sitting with a little boy). The spot I chose had a metal post at the end of it. Also, the parking spot was at an incline, going down towards the sign. These two things combined should have been enough for me to go to another parking spot but in my greedy moment of wanting to be closest to the door I opted to give it a try. I turn in, probably to fast, and whomp! hit the post. Then I remember there is a man sitting right behind me and now he's probably laughing his head off. So, I decide to correct my error and back up and straighten out. Now here is where I should have just pulled out of the parking space and gone to another one but NO I'm too hard headed for that. I had to prove I could do it. I start to back up and wonder what in the world is wrong with the car because I can't seem to reverse. The car goes back about 6 inches and then whomp! right back into the post. I look down and realize that when I hit the post, the 1st time, I pulled up the emergency brake. Now I'm completely embarrassed and am seriously considering pulling out of the parking space and going to the other side of the building. Instead, I released the emergency brake, backed the car away from the post, put the car into park, turn it off and exit with my head held high. I glance over towards the man who is still sitting with his son and thankfully he quickly turns his head before we make eye contact. And as I walk to the door I know exactly what that man is talking to his little boy about. . ."those women drivers". And yes, I'm one of them!

Oldie but goodie!

Here's something that I wrote and never posted. Thought I would share!

This week has been full of interesting comments from Emerson. I'll start with the beginning of the week and work my way to the end. Then I'll throw in a quick story from a few weeks back.



Monday--after ballet class, going to Wal-Mart with the family and STILL in her leotard and tights. . .



Em: (furiously doing arm and leg motions while strapped into her booster) "un, duh, twat, un, duh, twat. . .

Me: "Emerson, what are you doing?"

Em: "I'm doing ballet."

Me: "Oh, what are you saying?"

Em: "I'm saying un, duh, twat."

Me: "Oh, are you counting in French?"

Em: "Yes."

Me: "How does it go again?"

Em: "Un, Duh, TWAT!"



Of course by this point Tripp and I are laughing hysterically. I finally tried to convince her the word was trois (pronounced like twat without the t on the end) but she was insistent that the teacher had said twat. I obviously didn't tell her that the word she was saying was not a very nice word to say because some things are better left unsaid but I did try to sway her opinion on how to say the word. No luck for me though. She's still saying twat. . .and of course, she puts the most emphasis on the t at the end. I guess that is to prove her point. I can't wait to tell her ballet teacher what she taught Emerson this week!



Thursday--The kids and I are in the car on the way to Augusta for Cullen's 12 mo. shots. . .



Em: "Mommy, when I grow up I going to have brases."

Me: "What baby?"

Of course she repeats herself this time with more passion.

Me: "You mean bras, sweetie."

Em: "No Mamma, brases."

Me: "What are brases?"

Em: "BRASES."

Me: "Do you mean boobies?"

Em: "No, I already have boobies."

Me: "Oh, I guess that's true. Well, do you mean you want to wear a bra like Mommy?"

Em: "I mean those things that go over your nipples."

Me: "Emerson, those are called bras."

Em: "Okay, well I'm going to have big boobies and wear those things over my nipples."


What can I say? Out of the mouth of babes!

Taste of my own medicine

This morning I took the kids outside to eat a popsicle. Emerson loved hers and Cullen just walked around pretending to eat his and talking about it. He was walking, chanting "sicle, good, yum" to anyone willing to pay him attention, and dripping fake sugary banana goodness. After about 20 minutes the popsicle really started to disintegrate and in one huge lump fell off the stick onto the porch. And this is where my story really begins! Cullen looks down, then looks at me and says "Mama, I break."
me: "You break?"
Cullen: "it break"
me: "it breaked"?
Cullen: "uh huh, yeamam (supposed to be yes mam, it's sooooo cute)"
Then Emerson chimes in: "No Mama, it BROKE, not breaked."

Well, that's what I get for constantly correcting her grammar. I stand corrected, by a 3 year old no doubt!

Confession

I recently got an email asking where my blog had gone. Well, the truth is this. . .I stopped after someone made a comment to me that they hated blogs. The person went on to say how ridiculous it was to post your life on the Internet for people to read and how no one wanted to read it anyway. Who knows if this person remembered that they were on my email list OR that I had emailed my blog to them, however, it struck a nerve in me and I stopped blogging. This is probably surprising to those of you who think I'm completely hard headed and not surprising to those of you who know how much I want everyone to like me. Truthfully, it was silly for me to stop for just one person's comment but it was just my catalyst. There were a few other contributing factors to my lengthy absence to the blogging world. I started thinking about the fact that no one ever commented on my blogs, by email or in person. Well, being the over analyzer that I am, (refer to previous post) I began to think about that combined with the negative comment and I decided that maybe everyone felt the same way. So until I received the email asking about the blog I just assumed that my assumption was correct. But the email also said that the person missed reading my little stories. So, thanks to that person my hope in blogs has been restored. I will continue my quest. . .to share my many mini adventures of motherhood! :)

PS This is by no means a ploy to get comments so no pressure, really! :)