Tag Archives: grammar

Car Storys: Guest Post by Wren

15 Jun

Whine: I am completely intimidated to write on Sarah’s blog.

Cheese:  I am smiling to myself knowing that the word Storys in the title is driving some of you crazy while simultaneously answering some of your questions about how to write the plural of our last name.

Part of life in the Story household is time in the car.  Driving to see family, to conferences, to see family, to churches, to weddings, to see family, etc. In our world a 3 hour drive is a piece of cake, but you do have to gear up for the 14 hour one to Texas.  But the girls have gotten to be good travelers, and we make it.  When Daphne was a baby, if she really got her wail going, we popped in Janis Joplin, and she stopped.  We figured she appreciated someone else doing the work of expressing her feelings, so she could settle down.

But my two funny stories didn’t happen on long trips. They were in-the-car-around-town moments.  Moments that made me glad I was actually listening instead of what I usually do, which is to just try to tune out the arguments.  And they’re not my favorites because they were sweet moments…really, it’s just because they still make me laugh when I think about them.

So here they are…one for each…because they would complain if the other got attention and they didn’t.  (Daphne actually once asked for a spanking because her friend got one, so she wanted one too.  Ummm…no, not this time, honey.)

We were driving home from a friend’s house, and I heard Alice, who was 2 at the time, say, “Knock ya over…” to Daphne, who was 4.  I almost pulled over the car, thoughts of “You may not talk to your sister that way.  You may not touch her ever…” flowing through my head.  But, by the grace of God, what came out of my mouth, relatively calmly even, was “What are y’all talking about?” “Mommy, I said she’s November and I’m Knockyaover.” “You’re what?” “Knockyaover.” “October?” “Yeah. Knoc-to-ver.”  I was quite relieved that I hadn’t yelled at her. She was right. Daphne’s birthday is in November, and hers is in October. So then I had a desperate urge to teach her to pronounce it correctly, lest she overly relate herself to knocking people over. Because she would probably think that was really fun.

The next story is from a couple months ago. Daphne is now 5 ½, and Alice is 3 ½. The girls had played long and hard at the park, and we were on the way home. Because I’m a great mom, I was recommending ice cream and a movie when we got there.  But they had watched Barbie movies every day that week already. (Did I just admit that I let my kids watch a movie a day? Ignore that, and let’s go back to the story.)(And don’t judge about the B word. Barbie ballet movies are actually very sweet and little girl appropriate!)  So I said, “Y’all can pick out any movie…just not a Barbie one today.” (We needed to mix in some Disney or Leap Frog.  I mean, I want my kids to be well-rounded.)  But right as I was saying “not a Barbie movie,” Daphne was thrilled about picking and said, “Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses!” “No Daphne, not a Barbie movie today.  You still get to watch a movie, but you have to pick something else.”  And then I heard, in a whisper from the back seat, “You ruined my life.” And then, “I mean, I’m really angry.”  I started laughing.  I couldn’t help it.  Really?  She’s 5, not 15! “What did you say Daphne?”  “That makes me angry.”  I thought about pushing it—what did you say before that?—but the truth is, I was proud of her for catching herself already, and I didn’t want to make her say it out loud again in case out loud twice in the same minute would make a phrase stick in her 5-year-old vocabulary.

I guess I always knew the teenage years would be full of angst and me “ruining” lives, but I wasn’t prepared for it already! Maybe it was good practice.  I’ll probably wonder if there’s something I just don’t understand when she’s a teenager. But this time was easy — I knew that I wasn’t actually ruining her life — children have been known to survive Barbie withdrawal!  Phew!  Made it through that one.  Who knew I’d get it out of the way so early?  It hasn’t come up again since. But the memory always makes me laugh.  Maybe if I tell her about it when she’s 14, it’ll help her see how unreasonable she can be.  No?  Hmmm….I guess I’ll just have to treasure it to myself then.  And tell all of you.

P.S.  Shout out to Sarah.  How do you do it?  So many clever blog posts, three kiddos, amazing cakes, keeping up with everybody…You’re amazing.

P.P.S. [Sarah speaking] Thanks to Wren for stepping in for me during a very hectic time and for taking that cash I sent her to say nice stuff about me. Also, if you are a child of the 80s and you didn’t click the link up there, you should. Trust me.

Wren (aka Karen, aka Sarah’s sister) lives with her two little wordsmiths and their flip-flop enthusiast of a father in sunny Tallahassee. When she’s not pulling her children off of the unusually high places they’ve climbed, she likes to perfect her Tomahawk Chop and obsess over coordinating outfits for the perfect family picture.



Gold Stars (Volume 1)

29 Oct

Whine: We had to go up to the local children’s hospital today to visit our niece Avery (heretofore referred to as “Ave the Brave”) who was undergoing a few exploratory procedures. Poor Aves.

Cheese: Two Words–Taco Tuesday 

 

This is my first installment of what I hope will become a fixture here at Whine and Cheese: Gold Stars. Being a teacher at heart, I find the gold star a perfect way to say “Way to Go!” or “Thanks!” This first edition is far from exhaustive, I’m just going with things that stood out today. So if you didn’t make the list today, be patient, there are plenty of Gold Stars to go around. 

And the gold stars go to. . . .

1) Aves the Brave. One tough seven-month-old cookie. She’s got tubes up her nose and down her throat, and little arm braces (picture the kid from A Christmas Story in his snowsuit) to keep her from ripping out important pieces of medical equipment. Yet she was still smiling, sweet and giving running commentary about most everything.

2) My pastor and my church. For praying for and caring about a little baby you’ve never met. For sending follow-up emails to see how she’s doing. Your prayers mattered a lot to God and to us. 

3) Friends who send grammatically-correct text messages. I love getting texts where you spell out words like earth-shattering or hyperventilate. Because nothing says you care like appropriate punctuation.

That’s all for tonight, folks, I’m one tired Mama.