British Drama in The States

I have a confession.

Come closer.

*gulp*  I've never seen Downton Abbey. [cue gasp]

Who doesn't love a period drama?!

With the Downton Abbey craze sweeping the US, I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never watched it.  Tons of my US friends are raving about it on Facebook and it feels wrong that I live in the UK and haven't seen it.  Don't get me wrong.  It sounds really good.  It's right up my alley and people I like and who's taste I respect have said it's awesome.  I just sort of missed it when it started.  I have a hard time figuring out scheduling of British television and just never got on board when it started.  And I refuse to start a series in the middle.  I mean, a sitcom is one thing, but a series drama requires investment and background.  If you miss the beginning, you miss out on all the little nuances and story threads that are hinted at and woven together over time.  So I refuse to watch until I can start from the beginning.  I'll get around to it.

Though, I have missed Downton, I can give you a heads up on another British Drama that is headed to the US via PBS this fall.

Call the Midwife

Call the Midwife aired while I was pregnant, so I was really interested to watch it.  It follows a group of midwives and nuns who are charged with caring for the women in the east end of London during the 1950s. The main character was actually the least compelling figure, in my opinion, but the show is based on her memoirs.  The supporting cast and the look at the public health conditions of the time are really fascinating.  Especially good is comedian Miranda Hart as an awkward midwife named Chummy.  She was nominated for a TV BAFTA (the equivalent of an Emmy) for Supporting Actress and I found her performance really compelling.

This show really gives a great look at how far the practice of childbirth has come and could spark some great discussions.  Issues of abuse, miscarriage, forced adoption, and post-partum depression are all covered in thoughtful and interesting manner.  The relationships between the midwives and their charges makes for a good watch.  If you're into British stuff, baby/childbirth stuff, public health stuff, 1950's stuff, and human drama I say it's certainly worth a watch!

CALL THE MIDWIFE, Sundays, September 30 to November 4, 2012, 8:00-9:00 p.m. ET– Based on the best-selling trilogy by the late Jennifer Worth, CALL THE MIDWIFE is a fascinating portrayal of birth, life and death in a world drastically different from ours. This six-part series offers an unconventional twist to Sunday-night British dramas and brings mid-20^th-century London to life, focusing on the joys and hardships of a group of midwives working in London’s East End. 

Oh Snap!

Sometimes the difference in word meaning in the US and UK is too complex to be covered in a Word of the Week post.  Let's talk about the word "snap".

snap crackle pop

When Ross and I were dating, we had a conversation about a phrase that didn't translate from America to England.  I believe an American friend had commented on a Facebook post of Ross' saying "Oh snap!".  Ross was confused as he didn't think that the response made sense in relation to his original statement.

After some discussion we learned that someone saying "Snap" as an interjection means very different things.  In America it is generally preceded by "Oh" and means the equivalent of "Oooh, burn" or "You told him/her".  It's generally used with no small element of humour.  In England, however, "Snap" means "Me too" or "Twinsies!".  Definitely a difference in meaning and I can see why Ross was confused!

Another difference is one that I've noticed in relation to baby wear.

Linus' Tigger Onesie.  I think I can squeeze one more wear out of this before it gets retired as too small.

What would you call the 3 little fasteners at the crotch?  I would call them snaps, but here in the UK they are generally referred to as poppers.  Both names make sense in an onomatopoeic way.  Poppers sounds a bit cuter, I think.

Who knew there was so much to say about the word snap?

Do you know of any other phrases with differing meanings? 

NEWS FLASH FOR NON-UK READERS!

I've just discovered that blogger has changed things up in an irritating way.  (Seriously, I'm thinking it may be time to find a new platform)  Apparently, blogs now redirect to a country specific url based on the reader's location.  That means that my blog is now www.ameringlish.co.uk.  BUT!  If you are reading from America, you will automatically be taken to www.ameringlish.com, whether you type in .co.uk or not.

No big deal, right?  Wrong.  Because the comments are hosted at the .co.uk site.  So my American readers can't see comments on posts or add their own.

But there's a way around it.  If you visit my blog (or subscribe) at www.ameringlish.co.uk/ncr you will get access to full content.  Google explains it if you want more info.

Sorry for the confusion and I hope you'll join in the conversation!

The Wall (Mommy-style)

I'd expected to be a bit frazzled and over-emotional in the wake of Linus' birth, but was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't the case.  I think in part because my recovery was so awesome, I felt really great in the early weeks.  I was sailing on new mommy adrenaline and Linus was pretty easy.  He slept a lot and only really cried when hungry.  I was able to get good chunks of sleep and was keeping up with the laundry and dishes.

Early days

Some of my mommy friends had talked about their husbands coming home and being unsure who to comfort first- their crying wife or crying baby.  I just couldn't relate.  I'd never really felt tearful or weepy.  I mean, sure, I'd been frequently tired and occasionally stressed, but overall I was doing really well.  I'm sure Ross' non-traditional schedule and amazing helpfulness helped.  There were a few times when he'd sense that I was nearing the end of my rope and would step in to give me some extra time.  (Sadly, because I'm breastfeeding a bit of extra time is the most he can give me as it always comes back to me/my boobs!)

But then this weekend.  Oh, this weekend!  In the last week or so, Ross and I both noticed that Linus seemed to have made some big strides developmentally.  He was a lot more smiling and interactive.  His personality was really starting to show and he was just SO FUN.  I'm fairly certain it was related that his sleep also went to hell.  He was eating frequently and doing little catnaps.  Up and down.  Up and down.  All. night. long.  Add to this the fact that Ross came down with a horrible cold that just wiped him flat out and you had one exhausted mom.  I was so tired.

Pouty face

I still didn't think it was that bad, until two nights ago when Linus woke up in the middle of the night after being asleep for only a very short while, I started to sob.  Not little misty tears.  Big, full out crying.  It just hit me all at once.  Something Ross had said earlier in the evening just kept looping through my mind.  He asked if I was ok to make my own omelette because he "didn't think he had anything left" to do it for me.  Now, he's not a jerk.  He was really, really sick.  But his words resonated in my exhausted brain.  I just kept thinking that it didn't matter if I had anything left to give or not, because I didn't have a choice.  I know I always have the choice to switch to formula to give myself a break, but I'm just not willing to do that.  Breastfeeding it really important to me.  I hate mommy-martyrs (or really martyrs of any kind) and that moment was the first time that I'd felt a martyr to it.  It was an awful feeling.  I felt the bed spin as I cried- like it had after parties in college when I'd had too much to drink.

Ross quickly snapped out of sleep and hugged me and asked what was wrong.  I was unable to answer him and just continued to sob.  He pleaded with me to talk to him.  I managed to get out "I'm just SO. TIRED."  He got out of bed and got Linus, comforting him and giving me a few minutes.  All in all, I think my little meltdown lasted less than 10 minutes.  I managed to pull myself together and feed Linus and put him back to sleep.  Ross stayed awake for awhile to rub my back and offer moral support.

We made it through the night and Ross gave us strict instructions to spend Monday sleeping as much as possible.  I wasn't to leave the house or try to accomplish anything.  I slept whenever Linus did and managed to crawl my way out of complete exhaustion.  By then end of the day I was back to my usual self.  Still tired, but in no danger of bursting into tears.

Then, Monday night, something magical happened.  I started Linus' bedtime routine at around 8:15PM.  I massaged him with coconut oil, put him in his PJs and nursed him.  Then I put him in his crib an swaddled him.  He started to fuss and I wasn't convinced that he'd go to sleep and prepared myself to have to go back in and try again.  I took the monitor into the lounge and within a few minutes he was asleep.  It was just after 9PM.  I went to bed at 10:30PM.  I woke up momentarily a few times during the night to tell Ross to roll over so that he'd stop snoring and probably out of habit, but was quickly back asleep.  Linus didn't wake up until 5AM!  He then had a diaper change, ate and was back asleep by 5:45.  He then slept until 9:15AM.  And so did I.

Happy boy

And it was glorious!
AMEN.

(I'm hoping that this is the start of something good, but also trying to remember that it might be a fluke.  Fingers crossed that it is a sign of things to come.)

When did your baby start sleeping through the night?
Did it happen all at once or gradually?
Did your baby ever cut you slack just when you really needed it?

Cheerful Sunday

A few nights ago I was making dinner.
I was preparing Jersey Royals and found the most awesome potato ever!

It made me almost irrationally happy.  I summoned Ross to view it with great excitement.  Luckily for me, he thought it was just as cool as I did.  We sure are dorks.

So our dorkiness and my love of heart shaped carbs is a great reason to be cheerful!