What’s the…. um… umm… word?

Being a mom is humbling in many respects, not the least of which is the (likely sleep-deprivation-induced) lessening of the intellect that occurs. My parents thought I started talking like a Southerner when I moved from Brooklyn to the sunny south, but the truth of it was, I just… talk… slower… with lots of… pauses… because I can’t think of the right word quickly enough to have a New York-paced conversation.

In situations where I’m trying to get a million things done at once and direct children accordingly, which, let’s face it, is pretty much all the time, this can lead to many malapropisms and worse.

I distinctly remember my siblings and myself making merciless fun of my own mother for similar failings. “Get the clothes out of the oven. You *know* I meant dryer.” And she would grasp for the right word only to come up with a close approximate, hence a place called “Bluefield” would be rendered “Greengrass” once translated through the Motherator.

Well, I supposed what goes around comes around. Dave still laughs at my attempt to describe a recliner during my first pregnancy, and all I could come up with was “tilting couch.” My children quite enjoy laughing at me in the midst of my commands as I attempt to snap at them and instead provide fodder for their amusement. I’ve collected a few of these over the past few months and here is my current list, which I am sure will need further installments in the future.

“Please plug the baby into his carseat.”

“I’m going to sweep this mess. Please bring me a brush with strong bristles.”

“Be careful when weeding, not to unplug the seedlings.”

“You may not go downstairs.” “But I was just going to…” “I don’t care if you’re going to baptize the Pope! You may not go downstairs!”

“Mom, the timer is beeping!”  “OK, tell the oven I’ll be there in a minute!”

“Are you all packed for the canoe trip? Do you have your wet bag?” (instead of dry bag)

“I can’t believe we haven’t finished cleaning up breakfast and it’s already a quarter minutes to noon!”

“I turned off the dishwasher so we could hear each other think.”

“Please turn off the Beatles and turn on some words without lyrics instead.”

“The seat next to you is empty. Move the booster seat and sit next to yourself.”

Laugh all you like. Enjoy it while you can. Because you never know when this affliction will come to haunt you. And we’ll all have the last best laugh. You know what I mean. 

This entry was posted in A Day in the Life, Parenting, Remembrances, The Joke's On You. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to What’s the…. um… umm… word?

  1. Katherine Lauer says:

    So, so true. I could make a long list of mismatched words like this as well. The other day I ran out of the wrong names to call that particular child, so I finally just called her, “CHILD! You know who I mean!”

  2. Kerri says:

    Oh. My. Goodness. This was all too funny, if for no other reason that I suffer from this same condition 🙂 My girls in particular, after I’ve tried to come up for a word (like bookshelf, or fridge, or something VERY common and obvious), will just look at me and say, “Really, Mom? That’s the best you could come up with?” I tell them, “Oh, just you wait….you’ll have your day!” Ha, ha.

    Kerri

  3. Meghann says:

    I know EXACTLY how you feel! I spend most phone calls with my mother sounding like a narcoleptic stroke victim with tourettes! “Ma… uuhhhhhh… I, uuhhhhhhhh… GET OFF OF THE TABLE!!!! Uhhhhhh…” Luckily, a mother herself, can glean from that mess that I enjoyed the e-mail she sent and I’ll send pictures to my grandparents as soon as I can get them printed. When I hang up, the kids want to know why I never talk to her when I call. Wisecracking numbskulls…

  4. Mary says:

    Stopped by from Jessica’s blog, and so glad. You’re blog is fun to read.
    I have suffered this mommy condition for so long, my kids are used to it. Funny how the mommy mind works.

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