Still no internet.  Brian has spent over two and half hours on the phone with our internet provider and well, in the end?  Someone disconnected their call.  First the install was to be on the 10th, then it was moved to two weeks after the tenth and then it was moved to the 14th and then they said they lost our order and now it’s supposed to be sometime in 2008.  And as much as I’d love to leave this highly disorganized and unprofessional internet provider for their lack of service and urgency and return to my old true love, we can’t, we are under contract.  (long story.)

So, fortunately, I have friendly friends who will help a sister out, my friend Sarah from Milk & Honey is guest posting today.  Sarah is a friend of mine in real life, if I had to describe her in one word, I would use the word hilarious.  She’s a comic with great timing, she says things like "I like my fair share of gangster rap" and I laugh and laugh and laugh and then I see that she’s serious, which makes her even funnier.  And?  She so cute and looks like Sarah McLachlan.  Here’s her guest post for today.  Show her the love and make her feel welcome, k?

Last
week, my husband and I closed on the sale our house. After three months on the
market, we accepted a good offer so that we could move on to the next chapter
of our lives. Minor detail: we did this without knowing what that next chapter
is. We’re staying with his parents until we figure that out. We’re in good
company, because also staying with the in-laws is my husband’s brother and his lovely
wife and family, while they wait to see where their next chapter leads.

It’s
been fun living in close quarters with these eight other people of varying
ages; four of them are under six, and two of them are in their sixties. I’ve
never had this much constant interaction with small children before, and it’s
made me realize a couple things: peanut butter is a food group in and of
itself, and also, kids listen, really listen to what you say. They take
it in, dissect it to make sense of it, and share their interpretation with
others. They live by your words, no matter how ridiculous they may be.

Naturally
this scares the shit out of me, since I’m ten-ish weeks away from having my own
small, impressionable person. I’ve been thinking about the words my mom used
when I was a kid, and their effectiveness. Hoo boy, were they effective. And,
little did I know then, hilarious. I’m looking forward to busting out some of
these gems as soon as I get an opportunity. Until then, I share them with you,
eager reader, to use as you see fit. 

"You’d
better leave him alone, one day he’s going to be bigger than you!" This should be said
when a younger, yet taller, sibling habitually makes an older child’s life
hell. Usually a dual-purpose statement to both warn the young’n and give hope
to the older child, who, for the record, probably won’t ever be bigger, but
will become freakishly strong as he hits young adulthood. Seriously. Did I ever
show you my broken finger.

"Don’t
make me shout like a fishwife!" A front-porch favorite for calling the
kids in for dinner. "Josh! Sarah! Dinner! Come on home, don’t make me
shout like a fishwife!" What makes this most effective is the unexpected
element of embarrassment. Oh, they’ll come running alright, just so the
shouting will stop. Straight from the source of all things mom, this one is
most often attributed to grandmas.

"Your
room looks like a whore’s nightmare." Another grandma-ism. Something about
the word whore coming from a sweet grandmother’s snarled lips makes the chore
of bedroom cleaning more satisfying. And dirty. And maybe a little horrifying.

"Pretty
is, as pretty does." Just as effectual as saying pretty girls don’t burp or
fart. Or pustie. Because that’s the only time moms use this one, really. It’s a
thinly-veiled threat disguised as a lesson.

"What
goes over the dog’s back comes under his belly." This is most often
used when a daughter’s (or son’s) best friend steals her boyfriend (or
girlfriend). Moms love this one because it’s a non-violent expression of
impending, unavoidable revenge… "Oh sure, she got away with it this time,
but that hussy’ll get hers, just you wait."

"Don’t
ever put anything in writing that you don’t want to come back to you." One of the best
lessons a mom can share. Especially when a daughter (or son) might be
considering writing a nasty letter to above mentioned former best friend. Face
to face confrontation, or confession, is always ideal, except in cases where
legal documentation may be necessary. Ahem.

Knowing
what to say, and when to say it, carries so much more pressure than I ever
considered. I’m not just talking about the easy stuff, like knowing that
‘yibidies’ means boobs, ‘putsie’ means fart, ‘tinkle’ means pee and a
‘ding-dong’ is a… uh… ding-dong. How do you console with the right words?
Encourage? Threaten and scare the snot out of? (Only when necessary, of
course.) Maybe embarrass on occasion? What’s your favorite nugget of mom-ism
(or dad-ism) gold?

 

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