Fifi [FEE-fee]
noun
A dish of Italian origin consisting of a flat, round base of dough baked with a topping of tomato sauce and cheese, typically with added meat or vegetables

Ah, the older child.  All her life since beginning to speak, she has had her own ideas on how the English language is pronounced.

Take for instance when she was a toddler.  We asked her what she wanted to eat, to which she replied "fifi."  Having no French poodles to fry up, we ignored her request.  She was quite put out.  Fast forward to a trip to the grocery store.  Browsing through the frozen foods, Sandis points to the frozen pizzas and exclaims, "fifi!"  Yes, "fifi" meant pizza. How could we not know?

Preschool she moved on to some new and interesting pronunciations.  She added syllables and emphasis was always, always on the second syllable.  Some notables include:

wolves - wolf-is
iron - eye-wren
Saturn - Sat-er-in
pattern - pat-er-in

This was before she could read, mind you, so she'd only ever heard these pronounced correctly.  Still, she pronounced more or less phonetically.  (Ironically, she did not learn to read phonetically.) 

Then there was her Boston accent phase.  This was after learning to read, and after pronouncing words more or less correctly up until this point.  Yes, Sandis would be off to the shouw-wah to get clean after which you could find her drawring a picture.

Now, at nearly 11 years old, she still hasn't gotten over her mispronunciation, and associated inability to actually say it correctly when she tries.  Lately, the sherpa lining in her sweatshirt is made of shepra or shepra and Pecos Bill's name is Pea-cos. 

In her defense, I think she might get it from me (with the exception of the Bostonian part, not sure where that's from.)  When I was a toddler, I dubbed the living room the "knicker."  My parents say there was no know reason for this and as I got older I just dropped the word.

And I often make up pronunciations for words I don't know which are not even close to what they should be.  Why? Well, because phonetics makes absolutely no sense to me.  How any one can sound out cuh-ah-tuh and get cat is beyond my comprehension.  Besides, if I can read it in my head and know the definition, it doesn't matter what it sounds like unless I actually have to say it.  And, it probably won't come up in conversation otherwise I would have heard it, in which case I would know how to say it.  Right? Yes.  I'm going with yes.

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Yes, the dog puked not once but twice this morning.  Brian got the honors of the first clean up.

Stella took forever to get ready, as usual, but was finally dressed when she disappeared.  As I searched the house for her, she came in from outside, chicken crap all down her shirt and skirt.  Couldn't just be one or the other article of clothing.  Oh no.  And why, WHY, did she have to go outside and pick up the chickens when she was already late for quasi-school?

Finding new clothes is not as easy as just finding another clean outfit.  No, you must have a skirt.  Not that skirt, a twirly skirt, mo-ther.

At last, two kids in the car, reasonably dressed and, as far as I knew, no more messes to clean up.  Stella breaks a thread in her new mittens I knit her (how the heck did she do that!) and they need to be fixed.  She got a hole in her new stuffed pig she got yesterday.  Sandis has a hole in her new toy seal from Tuesday.  Mommy, mommy, mommy, when are you going to fix them.  Today? Tonight?

They are gone to quasi-school and can place no more demands, can create no more messes, cause no more chaos, for me anyway, at the moment. 

Here at home, no more dog puke was seen, hallelujah!

Things are looking up already.

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Stella is nine years old today. NINE!

Nine short years ago, I was:

1. relieved to be done with labor
2. not at all tired
3. knowing I'd be paying later for that, "I'm so awake!" feeling
4. watching my toddler give her baby sister toys, not believing how her parents could have neglected this important part of having a child
5. smelling that new baby smell (which is good, unlike new car smell which is hideous)
6. realizing again how tiny they are when they first are born
7. learning how to breast feed two.  At the same time.
8. putting teeny, tiny newborn prefolds on my teeny, tiny baby, and realizing the newborn size were big on her
9. starring my TWO children in amazement

Over the last nine years, I've gotten to know that wee person.  Here are some things I've learned about her:

1. She loves to share, if you ask.  If you take, you have a tiger by the tail.
2. She loves all animals from the tiny aphid to the giant whale.  The squeals when she sees spider are the same as for a puppy.
3. She walks the walk, her love for animals has led her to become vegetarian.
4. If you think there are two ways to do something, she'll show you a third option.
5. Sitting still is over-rated, even for eating. 
6. Everything should be fair.  Everything.  
7. She has never been a morning person.  Not even when she was baby.
8. She will do whatever it takes to learn something she wants to learn.  It may frustrate and annoy her (and therefore, you) but she WILL learn what she wants to learn.
9. She is the absolute best source of blog fodder ever born!

Stella, my beautiful girl.  I love you more than life itself.  I have no doubt that you can accomplish anything you want in life. 

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Remember how our dog, Sirius, has had some recent medical issues that we thought were lymphoma? Well, maybe not.  The lump on his neck is nearly gone after a week and a half of steroids.  We are hopeful that means he doesn't have lymphoma after all.  Have a message into the vet.  Time will tell...

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I'm sorry, but November 6th is not election day.

Ok, so it technically is election day, but at our house that day has greater meaning.  Beyond the petty concern of who will run our country for the next four years, it is my baby girl's birthday.  She will be NINE years old.  Yes, the last year before the double digits.  [BTW, how the hell did that happen?]

It's a big deal! Remember how important birthdays were when you were a kid? How you waited for your special day? The day with cake and ice cream and presents and whateveryouwanted for dinner and everything focused on YOU so much that your siblings were green with envy? It was exciting.  It was wonderful.  It was magical.

I don't want that spoiled by election hoopla.

So that day I will not be on FB much or listening to NPR non-stop.  I may just have to have a teensy peek at the TV results while she's off playing with her brand new whatchamajigger.  But the focus needs to be on the BIRTHDAY not the election.  Election results won't change due to my obsession with watching/listening to/reading results.  That is my mantra.


So if you don't hear my whoops of victory or wails of defeat on Tuesday, be assured, that they will be there on Wednesday.  But Tuesday is just too significant a day to muddle up with politics.

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And yes, I did vote already.  I'm not skipping that, just not doing it on actual election day, which is 100% ok.  Hell, even the President voted early!

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And also vote on Tuesday in the actual elections, if you haven't already.  It's IMPORTANT.  Really, it is.

So I'm trying this NaNoWriMo thing again.  Of course, I'm not following the rules.  You can't make me NaNoWriMo cops that don't exist.  NaNoWriMo cops couldn't possibly exist because their name would be so long (and ridiculous) that they couldn't fit it on the badge they'd have to wear.  In any case, I am flaunting the rules.  I am not writing a novel.  I'm also not trying to hit the word count goal.  Just trying to write.  We'll see how it goes!

I'm going to try for a blog post each day.  We'll see how that goes too.


I would love to combine these and post what I've written each day but I don't know that I can.  I need to protect the non-innocent.  Maybe I'll get brave.  Or maybe I'll figure out how to make those things that are painful, humorous.  Not sure either of those things can happen in a month's time when I've had a lifetime so far. 

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My children go to quasi-school where yesterday they apparently held mock presidential elections.  Being that this is a "school" attended by homeschoolers, it is generally a conservative crowd.  That is why it is especially nice interesting terrifying when your eight year old comes home to tell you not only did she vote for Obama, but exclaimed to all in hearing range, "Paul Ryan? My mom wants to punch him in the face!"

Ok, statement is true, but not one I generally share with those outside a close knit circle of friends.  After all, people I know support various candidates this election cycle, and I respect that.  I don't, however, respect Paul Ryan in the slightest.  I do think he is a giant douche canoe and does deserve to be punched in the face.  Not that I would ever actually punch anyone, face or elsewhere.  Even those as deserving as our vice presidental hopeful.

This concludes my election coverage for 2012.

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This is your friendly reminder to vote. All you do is click, which takes you to the website where you then do nothing. Or you can do something, but you don't have to do something. It's easy. Thanks :)