My filtered mouth

I'm not sure quite when it happened, but along the way I affixed a permanent filter to my mouth. It comes in handy most of the time, but on those rare occasions when I'm seething with irritation I just want to tear it off and let 'em have it-- the "em" is usually a boss, co-worker, relative or most recently ANYONE!

I am sure, had this filter not been affixed to my mouth, I would have most definitely severed many a relationship through the years leaving  the adversary crying in a heap on the floor, in a corner- Just ask my husband, for him- my dear sweet love, there is no filter. Poor boy, I mean man, man-boy.. . .

To my delight, I have found through the years that my fingers have no filter, and no I am not talking about flipping the bird- even that is reserved for my husband- what I am talking about is writing! I can grab a pen,pencil,crayon or in this matter a computer and let it out. It is most satisfying to tell someone your feelings with written communication and for this my friends, the filter is off!

Most recently I have found my mouth filter to really be a bother. My oldest daughter, Abigayle, has followed in the genetic code of me, my mother, my grandmother and so on, with regards to her height- she is  becoming quite the statuesque girl at 5'2" in her 10 years of age, and I have found that as physical features go, height is one that seems to be open for comment by anyone, unlike many and most other physical features.

We will be out and about and run into people we haven't seen for a while and they will say "Holey cow is she ever TALL!!!" And this is where I wish I could tear my mouth filter off.

First, I will point out that being tall is nothing to be ashamed of, it is- as my beautiful grandma always said, something that all the queens and princesses are " tall and smart!" However, when someone points it out, in a tone reserved for comments like HUGE, FAT, UGLY it doesn't come across as a compliment or a mere observation. When I hear this comment, my filtered mouth quivers, about to unleash a turrets like gush of physical attributes that are obvious in the commenter or the commenter's child- but my filtered mouth says "Just like her mom and dad! - after all I am 5'9" and her dad is 6'2."

 But. . . . .if that filter were off, a different rebuttal would emerge:

 "Really?? I hadn't noticed! Good gosh, thanks for pointing that out- hey, you think we should take her to a growth specialist maybe she has elephantiasis of the limbs and they are growing our of control or maybe she is a real-life GIANT??? Unlike your child of course who, by the way has  HUGE man-boobs! And look at the size of those ears- Dumbo himself would be jealous! What a PORTLY little things he/she has turned into!!!!"

But alas, I would never say that. I keep comments like that reserved for myself, in my mind where only I can enjoy them- Thank you to my well fitted filter-

Linguistic heirlooms

So, I was enjoying my weekly dose of nerd radio when I  heard the most exciting commentary - a lengthy discussion of " linguistic heirlooms". You know, words and phrases from a time not so long ago- words and phrases that are rarely used any more and when they are leave the receptor scratching their noodle.

The discussion brought up words like "dope" which was said instead of  a coca-cola, and "poke", instead of a bag or tote bag.

Listening to this radio show made me think of words that my Grandma used frequently and I decided to see if I could confuse the masses, and by masses I mean Abigayle and Amelia.

Me: "Abigayle and Amelia! Go to the front room and get your stuff off the davenport!"

And just as I suspected the girls looked baffled.

"Uhhh. . . What do you mean Front Room, mom??? And, what the heck is a davenport??"

It worked! I had in my vocabulary Linguistic Heirlooms! I felt so powerful! What fun these little morsels of history are going to bring. . . If only I could remember them all!

Next I might send them on a wild goose chase to listen to some 8 tracks or clean out the basin so they can take a bath!

 I also  remember my Grandma and Grandpa never ate dinner- it was supper. In all my parenting years I've never made the kids "supper" , so I asked Amelia "what's for supper?" and she pondered for a moment "hmmm, tacos?"

SHE KNEW!!

"How do you know what that means?"

"Uhhh, in the olden days ,mom, everyone ate SUPPER!!!, duh!!!!"



Click here to see for yourself- a fascinating listen!

The night life!

In my imaginary perfect life. . . . .I have three beautiful daughters  (this statement is true of my REAL life as well). In my imaginary perfect life  my three daughters all nestle in cozy at night, at a reasonable bed time, in their own beds. . . . in real life, all three fight bedtime as if it is an overgrown hairy monster trying to eat them alive.

* Image portrays actors, not my real family!- However, this is THE CASTLE!

When they finally do go to bed, it's never in their own rooms. Right now, as  we speak, I have a hot pink and purple vinyl princess castle set up in all its glory next to  my side of the bed. At the foot of the bed is a pack and play, stocked full of fuzzy  stuffed animals and soft snugly blankies- and right next to that is a "nest". A "nest" made of pillows and blankets hmm.. let's see. . . .what else did Abigayle find in the linen closet to add to this "nest"--oh,  a tablecloth, a beach towel, a pillow case and a cloth diaper.  This, folks, is my bedroom- you know the place where mom and dad are suppose to be able to find refuge from the everyday- hunker down at night,cuddle and fall off to blissful sleep with all the chitlins tucked away in their own beds. Not happening in my home!

 Every night as Amelia crawls into her "castle" she flips and flops, she rubs her little get away sticks together which all creates a very loud crinkling of vinyl- I seriously am thinking about having this child professionally checked for restless leg syndrome. Abigayle has her own peculiarities- she jabs her toes into Amelia's castle "on accident" for what seems to be hours- provoking Amelia to say "stop it sissy". . . . .2 minutes later- "stop it sissy". . .. . .  1 minute later-"stop it sissy". . .. . .and on and on.

Then the grunting starts. .. its a nervous condition, I'm sure- Abigayle  starts it  around 5 minutes after bedtime and continues until she falls asleep. . .this provokes me to say "enough with the unh unh Abigayle". . . 2 minutes later-"ENOUGH with the unh unh Abigayle!". . . . .and on and on.

This is all taking place while I'm patiently trying to nurse AnnaBella off to sleep. . . .who, has become quite adept at playing possum. Just as I slowly lower her into her pack and play at the foot of the bed she springs to life and starts bouncing around. . . "dadadadada. . . .. dadadadadada"- Sorry boo bear it's bedtime and then the crying-"WANNNNGGGG"

So, as you see, my imaginary perfect world is no where close to my real life- but I guess I am okay with that.

One day when I am old and grey and the kids have long left home- I know I will look back and think "It sure would be nice to have a hot pink and purple castle next to my bed right now with my little Amelia in it- or to hear Abigayle grunting away or have AnnaBella snuggled up in my bosom"- so for now, even though there are those days, I mean nights, when I feel like I am going insane I need to calm my mind and enjoy every second of it:)

Oh,  did I mention during this whole ordeal- SOMEONE is rolled over curled up and snoring away without a care in the world. . .hmmmmm I wonder who????