Pardon me

As I've lived in the UK for quite some time now, I'm pretty thoroughly fluent in Ameringlish. That doesn't mean that I am a convert and use the British word. I've transitioned on some, but there are many language changes that I can't bring myself to make.

I call is a diaper and not a nappy 99.9% of the time.
I still say ZEE-bra and not ZEB-ra (which starts with a letter ZEE not a ZED).
I say garbage can, rather than rubbish bin most of the time.
I will always say "y'all".
I ride the elevator not the lift.
Sometimes I queue, but usually I get in line.

Consequently, I worry that Linus will end up confused about how things should be said and what things are called. As he gets older and starts school, I know that he'll be inundated with the British way of saying things and will probably defect. (Except for using y'all. I'll insist on that.) I'm mostly ok with using different words and figure that Linus will work it out for himself. He's a smart kid. He doesn't get confused when Ross and I say things differently. After all, they say it's good for kids to learn different languages at a young age. That surely applied to two versions of the same language, right?

There is one area, so far, that I've consciously made the effort to switch to a British way of saying something. It is only in making the switch that I've realized how very often I used to say "huh?" or "what?" or even "excuse me?".  In England, the accepted polite way of asking for clarification or repetition of something you haven't quite heard is "Pardon?"

Initially this felt and sounded super-awkward to my ears. All I could think about was this old commercial.

I decided to make the switch because, though I don't object to Linus being considered weird for using a different word- I do object to him being viewed as rude. So that's where I've drawn my personal line in the verbal sand.

If I can use the word that feels most authentic and natural to me, I will. If it's a question of manners or being offensive, I'll make the change.

How do you decide what words to adopt?

Mama

I've mentioned in the past that Linus was... slow... to jump on the Mama train.

He'd happily share a hat. Er, plastic tub.

My darling boy certainly loved me, but he just wasn't eager to name me. He had "Dada" down for a long time before he ever uttered the word "Mama" in reference to me. Heck, he even had Grandma and Grandpa. He was obsessed with Jack, the little blond boy in Mr. Daydream after a single reading- proclaiming "Jack!" and pointing with delight.

A look of love

I started to think that the problem was that he didn't understand that he and I were separate people. We spend nearly all our time together and it seemed to jive with his confusion regarding why I needed a name. That theory made me feel warm and fuzzy while I waited to hear the sweet sound of "Mama". I still think it was true.

Suddenly, one day, he got the hang of it. Now it's a constant refrain. This morning on the tram, he was introducing me to the packed car of people. Pointing over his shoulder to where I stood at the handlebar of his stroller and proudly proclaiming "Mama!" to all his new friends. I love it. I love the sound of that repeated syllable. 

As and expat, I treasure "Mama" even more. All of Linus' friends have long-since moved on from the initial sounds to the standard "Mummy". I'm a unique amongst a sea of mummies. I am Mama, hear me roar. I really hope he sticks with it for a long time. I know that most likely, he'll eventually switch to Mummy. He's bound to hear it and adopt it once he goes to school. Heck, he already hears it from Daddy. So for now, I'll treasure these days of being Mama.

All this intro to say that there's a new development. Linus loves to look at pictures of both Ross and me. He gleefully identifies us. In the last week, though, he's has gone a bit Mama-crazy. The following are pictures he has pointed to and said "Mama".

This one was first. The lady on the box of Tyrrell's Crisps. I was less than flattered.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, my coat did look similar. And she's wearing a hat. I like hats.

The bill painter at the rubber duck factory in Ten Little Rubber Ducks by Eric Carle.

Slightly more flattering.

Janice on this poster from The Muppets. Ok. I can handle that.

Then Scooter. Sigh.

The (evil?) queen on Linus' alphabet puzzle.

At least she's pretty.

I wonder what's next.

Any one else have a child with a slightly adventurous opinion of what "Mama" looks like?

Stages of Expat-dom

Every expat certainly hits several milestones in their journey. There are those firsts- firsts that let you know you're really not at home any more. And then they let you know that you're starting to consider this new place home. The two kinds of moments don't transition seamlessly from one kind to the other. They blend and overlap.

There's the first time you buy new toiletries and realize that you can't get your trusted deodorant/moisturiser/razor. There's the first time you need some new clothes and you want to cry because you can't wrap your head around the fact that you have to go up 2 sizes in England. (Not that you are actually bigger, but that doesn't matter to your irrational brain that is tied to the number of your American size.)

There's the time that you realized you looked right at a crosswalk, rather than left without even thinking about it. There are those times when you stumble over your words because your brain can't keep straight the American and British word choices. You can't figure out the right way to say it and then end up saying something that is a bizarre mix of the two that would make sense to neither an American or a Brit. Awesome!

There's the time your Mom asks is a phrase you used was British and your answer is "huh... well, if you didn't understand it, then it must be..." Then there's the time that you hear yourself say something and cringe. The other day, I had one of those moments. I was on the phone with someone and they asked if the number I had called from was the best number to reach me at. I heard myself reply, "Yes, it's my mobile". And not just mobile like I would normally say it (mo-bull). No, I said moBILE.

cringe

I heard it as it was coming out of my mouth. I even said "Oh my god. I can't believe I just said that. Who am I?" as soon as I said it. It was horrifying and hilarious. It was possibly my biggest milestone yet. I think I have to accept that my G'ma is right. I'm starting to sound a little bit British. (I'd always maintained that this was ridiculous and she's just going deaf.)

I'll tell you something, though. It's an expat milestone that has me surprisingly flustered. It demonstrates that I'm not fully entrenched in my new culture. I need new underwear. I've never bought underwear in England. There's no Target (my go-to underwear spot). The sizes are different. It's not that big a deal. I'm sure they have something at M&S that would be just fine, and yet... I'm dragging my feet. Perhaps I'm displaying my patriotism through my undergarments? Who knows.

What have your expat milestones been?

Did you experience any strange hang-ups that surprised you?

Words

Because I believe that words have power, I think a lot about what I say to Linus. For many months I've said the same thing to Linus as I put him down for naps and night sleep. The words came spontaneously and remained unaltered for many months.

"You are sweet and smart and beautiful and funny. Mommy and Daddy love you. Grandma and Grandpa love you. You'll go to sleep and have sweet dreams and when you wake up, we'll have a wonderful afternoon/day."

I believe that the words he hears and the intent behind them will soak into his soul. I want him to have these words written on his heart, so he can carry them with him all his life. I believe it is my job as his mother to lay the foundations of self esteem and that, even this small speech, whispered lovingly into his ear every day, will help him.

To that effect, I started thinking about the words I was saying. I decided to amend two of my words. I decided that, while he is sweet, KIND is the word I'd like to steep him in. "You are kind" became the beginning of my sleepy time speech. Sweet is nice. It makes others smile. But- it feels more surface. Like a veneer of sugar. Kind is nice and makes others smile, but it can be revolutionary in a way that sweetness cannot. A small act of true kindness can change lives. I hope that Linus will have a kind spirit.

The other change I made was prompted by an article a friend shared on Facebook. I started to think about the implications of telling Linus that he his smart. The article made me think. It made me think about the fact that, here in Britain, babies and small children are most often praised for being clever.

Smart. Clever. At first glance, it might just seem to be one of the hundreds of instances where the two cultures have differing preferences for similar words. The more I thought about it, however, I came to believe that there's more to it than that. There is a deep-rooted difference in cultural attitudes in the US and the UK. The US is shiny and new. It is confident, loud and brash. It is full of people who would hold up flashing neon signs proclaiming that they are the greatest thing since sliced bread. And increasingly, children who's parents are willing to spend all their time and energy holding up their signs for them. The UK is ancient and staid. It is self-deprecating and stoic. It's people love to complain, but are also famous for their ability to suck it up and quietly do what needs to be done without a show or expecting of praise. Their is even an unspoken mindset that is isn't done to be too striving or self-confident, or flashy.

I thought about the two words and how they are different. In some subtle way, they are each completely reflecting of their respective cultures. Smart is something that you are- without trying, without doing anything to earn. You are smart because you are smart. Your brain is uniquely, inherently superior. Clever, on the other hand, has a subtle implication of more than that. A clever person doesn't just know the answer. They are intelligent enough to work to figure it out. And I like that. I like the idea of instilling in Linus the confidence that he has the resources to figure things out. That he can work hard and exercise his beautiful mind. That his natural-born abilities are not all he has. He has the resourcefulness to reach beyond himself. Does that make sense? It may just be reading too much into a word, but it rings true with me.

And so, I decided to alter half of my words. I take no issue with the other two. Beautiful is exactly what he is. He is beautiful of body and spirit. His very creation is beautiful, regardless of the (admittedly stunning) package. And funny. He's just so, so funny. Which is important. Terribly important.

So I now tell him that he is: kind, clever, beautiful, funny. Because he is. And he always will be. And it's important that he knows it. And so I tell him.

Do you see a difference between smart and clever?
What words do you want to wrap your loved ones in?

By/With

To start, a side story:

When I was in high school I was a theatre kid. I remember one day, my friends and I were hanging out on stage during a rehearsal and talking about one of the other girls (in that stupid high school way). Specifically, her unhealthy fixation on one of the older boys. Her crush was huge and embarrassingly obvious to everyone. It was beyond awkward the way she would fawn over this guy. As is want to happen, the girl walked up to our group to join the conversation. We all fell quiet and tried to act natural. (Like you do when you've just been busted talking about someone.) She greeted us and asked what we were talking about. Without missing a beat, one of the boys simply replied "Calvin Klein". It was pure genius. It impressed me so much and still amuses me to no end.

Get your own obsession.

Now the real point of this post is to tell you that, here in the UK, people are "obsessed BY" things. I'm used to being "obsessed WITH" stuff. Every time I hear it, it sounds strange to my ear, but it got me thinking. Isn't "by" actually just as, if not more, appropriate. In most cases, the thing that obsesses you isn't actually affected by your obsession. The WITH implies that there is some sort of mutual relationship. If I'm "totally obsessed with prosciutto, metallic ballet flats, or even Claudia Winkleman"- this food item/shoe/celebrity is completely unaffected by me and my obsession. In this case, I think I agree that "by" makes more sense. I'm am the object of enthralment. The object of my obsession is not "in" the obession "with" me at all!

That said, I don't imagine I'll be able to change my natural programming to say "by". And I reserve the right to freely say that I'm obsessed with my son and husband and their cuteness because that is a relationship. I like to think they're obessed right back.

What are your favourite obsessions?

The Cow Says "Moo"

The iconic See n' Say. (Which apparently wasn't popular in the UK.)

Today when I was hanging out with some of my friends, one of them asked me if the animal noises in the US were different. At first it seems a silly question, but at the time, she entertaining her son with an owl puppet. Do you know what the owl said? It said "tweet, twoo". Yep. Not "who, who" or even "hoot".

Now, I first became aware of this difference via a bib that Linus has.

Sorry, for the stained bib, but-well- it does it's job.

I hadn't really thought anything off this bib, until I heard Clare making owl noises in the same manner. When I replied that, in America, owls say "Who", or possibly "Hoot" my friends were as surprised as I was by this "tweet twoo" business. 

As for other differences, I could only come up with a few. In England, dogs don't say "Bow Wow". They only say "ruff ruff". Both might be used in the US. I later asked Ross, about other differences later. We established many are the same. The only other one we came up with is that a British chicken would never say "buck, buck, buck".  It would only "cluck". 

A non-animal related one I've noticed is "Nee nor" or "Nee naw". Anyone know what that is? 

I'll give you a hint.

Pull over!

Fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances all say "nee nor" or "nee naw". In fact, children often refer to vehicles with sirens and flashing lights as Nee Nors/Naws. It makes just as much sense as (and is more easily spelled than) the American "Weee Ooooo". 

I'm sure there are other differences in what things "say".

Ross' favourite is that, in France, roosters say "Kokorico!"

What are your favourite onomatopoeic sounds? 

Very Eyebrow

You guys! I almost forgot to tell you my eyebrow story!
Are y'all ok?! Have you been on tenterhooks? (I spelled that right on the first try, by the way.) Forgive me.

I mentioned that Ross has great eyebrows. When he did stand up comedy, he prided himself on his ability to get laughs from a mere raising of the eyebrow. They're very expressive.

There is a group on Facebook that Ross belongs to. It basically exists to reminisce about a certain area of Manchester and what it used to be like. Ross family used to have a store in that part of town and his warehouse is still nearby. This group shares old pictures and can be a fun place to talk about the "good old days". Sadly, as is sometimes the case, reminiscing can turn to darker places. The "good old days" are rose-tinted and people begin to talk about how things were so much better once upon a time. Certain people- certain racial groups- are blamed for the downturn of the area.

When things start to get nasty in this way, Ross gets riled up. He's very cute when he's riled up. He splutters and fumes about people's ignorance and how ridiculous they are. It becomes a mini-personal mission to, if not reform the offenders, at least point out the folly of their ways. He doesn't engage in name-calling or directly point out their racism. He tends to use logic to point out their errors in thinking. He'll do things like point out that the very people accused of being responsible for the ruin of the area are some of the only ones willing to invest in it. 

One day, as he was working hard to broaden the hearts and minds of the people, a man took offence at his efforts. He started ranting about how "you can't say anything these days without PC do-gooders running wild". Ross continued his reasoned and logical rebuttal. The man then wrote that Ross must think he's better than other people because he's so "eyebrow". Yep, that's right. He accused my husband of being eyebrow. It was one heck of an insult. I guess, as the man simply wrote the word as he would have said it aloud... 'ighbrow. With a dropped "H". What would Henry Higgins say? Ross replied that he refused to apologize for having an education and the discussion moved on.

We, not surprisingly, have turned this into a bit- referring to things as "eyebrow" all the time now. An added bonus is that it seems to have finally helped Ross remember which is an eyelash and which is an eyebrow. Prior to this, he had a mental block and could never keep the two straight. So for entertainment value and educational value I'd like to thank this man.

Are you very eyebrow?

What's the funniest insult that's ever been hurled at you?

Half time

There's a little cultural difference that I've never blogged about, but always throws me a tiny bit. Well, it threw me a lot when I first moved here.  It has to do with time. How hard can that be, right? I mean time is time! Well, yes. And no.

No. Not that Time.

I know it's because I have a tendency to over-think/complicate things sometimes. I'll give you a sample conversation.

Me: Remind me. What time is the plumber coming tomorrow?

Ross: Half Ten.

Me: (thinking, not aloud) Wait. Does that mean 9:30 or 10:30? I think it's 9:30. Right? Because it's half way to 10. Right? Wait. Half ten would be 5:00 so that can't be right. (out loud) ...10:30?

Ross nods.

This repeatedly confused me for WAY longer than I should admit. I know now what it means. And only second guess myself very infrequently. But it's definitely an interesting difference. I've never heard a British person say "thirty" as part of the time. It's always "half". I wonder why that is...

Any guesses?

Visions of Grocers

Yesterday I was visiting with some of my new mom friends (holla Jess, Suzy, and Clare!) and we were talking about the difference between customer service in the US and UK. I said that I'd love to train retail and restaurant workers on proper customer service. Waitstaff who never check on you or act put out if you want a refill of your water irritate me. The people who stand at the entrance of Next (a department store) drive me bonkers. I assume they are meant to be "greeters" a post I filled often when I worked in retail. In the US, this person cheerfully welcomes people to the store, informs them of any sales and encourages them to ask for help if it's needed. In the UK, however, it seems that this person is meant to awkwardly and pointlessly hover by the entrance. From time to time they may shyly make eye contact and tentatively smile. The very bold ones might mumble something about "Do you receive the catalogue?" as you walk past. It seems an utterly pointless thing to have a staff member do if they aren't actually going to do anything.  (Oops.  Are my crazies showing? I think so.)

At any rate, I was relating a story about when Ross and I were dating and he'd come visit me in Dallas.  My apartment was in walking distance to a Tom Thumb.

Not this one, but one a lot like it.

While I was at work, Ross would work from my apartment and often walk to the store and buy some food. Often times, he would actually cook dinner for me too. He's a keeper! Very early on, we went to the store together and all of the employees made eye contact and said "Hello".  Many asked how we were doing or wished us a nice day. Ross leaned over and whispered to me "Do you know them?" I laughed, confused why he was so bewildered.  After living in the UK for over 2 years now, I get it.  

After telling this story, one of my friends said that they loved that I call it a "grocery store". I paused, caught off-guard, never having thought to call it anything else. I asked what I should be calling it. She declared that I should never stop calling it that because it made her envision me shopping at a quaint little shop served by men in striped aprons, surrounded by fresh fruit and veg. I started to correct her, but she cheerfully insisted that I not ruin her illusion. There are some that are a bit like that. Central Market and Whole Foods are the best grocery stores known to man, even they don't quite fit that image. In my experience, American grocery stores and British supermarkets are pretty similar. 

I learned afterwards that someone in the UK would call it a "supermarket", though most often I find that people say the name of the actual store they are going to (Morrison's, Sainsbury, Tesco, Asda, etc.). Ross and I were discussing that "supermarket" is actually an American term, but it's not one that I would ever think of using in the sentence "I'm going to the supermarket later to pick up some bananas".  It strikes my ear strangely. Just, I'm sure, in the way that "grocery store" strikes the ears of my British friends. I don't find it strange to think of a store a supermarket, but to actually refer to it as one is another story. 

I think Clare is safe as I can't imagine calling it anything but a grocery store... If you need me I'll be spreading false images of the American grocery shopping.

Wait, what would a British person say instead of "I have to do the grocery shopping?" or "Tonight I'm shopping for groceries?"?
I just asked Ross and he wasn't able to offer any clarity...
Would it be something like "doing the weekly shop"?
I don't think I'll ever stop coming across these little fun idosyncracies! Isn't learning about a new culture fun!?

Victory vs. Honour

We've been watching some of the Olympics coverage...
Not a ton, but random bits here and there.  There's coverage on all day long, so I'll put it on when I'm feeding Linus or we'll watch some in the evening.  The only thing I really got into was the Men's Gold Medal Tennis match.  Hooray Andy!  What a match!

So gorgeous!

I have a few observations about the coverage.  One is that it seems to me that the British coverage involves far more actual coverage of the sports, rather than endless puff pieces on the athletes meant to inspire me.  Maybe I'm just watching at the wrong times, but it definitely seems to be better coverage.  Not that they are immune to the occasional gaffe.  I heard a commentator proclaim that a competitor had "celebrated a birthday just a few short years ago".  I'm fairly confident that she meant days or weeks, but she totally said years. Hahaha!

The biggest difference I've noticed, however, is that when competitors in track and field or cycling events wins they often take an extra celebratory lap.  That's not unusual, but I noticed that this practice is called something different here!  I'd always known this as a "Victory Lap".  Here in the UK, it is referred to as a "Lap of Honour".  I think this difference is pretty interesting and actually says something about the difference in the cultures.  In America, the emphasis is on the victory.  The dominance.  The superiority.  In England, it's the pride and honour brought to the person. and thus their country, for having achieved something amazing.  It's a subtle difference, but it makes sense in my head.  Almost like the American way is about showing off and the British way is about acknowledging the crowd.  It's totally semantic and contains broad generalizations and stereotype.  Oh, well.  It's a true fact that British people don't like to show boat like Americans do.  It's considered fairly egregiously distasteful.  So maybe I'm not reaching on this as much as it seems.  I think there is an actual difference between a Lap of Honour and a Victory Lap.

What do you think?

What's been your fav moment of the Olympics so far?

Sick

It isn't often any more that I get tripped up by word meaning differences, but the other day I had the following conversation.

First, let me set the scene:

Ross and I took our nephew to Katsouri's for lunch.  Katsouri's is a very tasty deli in Manchester (there's also one in Bury) that we like to frequent.  We'd go in for lunch maybe once a week when I was pregnant and have been in once since Linus arrived.  There's one lady in particular who usually takes our order and was very excited when we brought Linus in and made a big fuss over him.  The deli is pretty tightly packed at lunch time with not much room to manoeuvre a stroller, so I was wearing Linus.

We arrived and were standing by the refrigerator case picking out our freshly made sandwiches.  (Side note: I recommend The Olympus [hummus, feta, grilled peppers, olives, lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers] or the Bacon, Brie and Cranberry [those things plus lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers].  Delicious!!)  The woman came rushing over to say hello with a big smile on her face.  She coo-ed over Linus' adorableness and how sweet he looked in his sling.

Woman:  He's been sick.

Me:  No.  He's been fine.

Woman:  (looking confused) No.  He's been sick.

Me:  (even more confused) No.  We've been fine.  Just haven't been in for awhile.

Woman:  (so confused, firmly) He has.  He's been sick!

I finally look down and see some spit up on Linus' shirt.  The woman hadn't been telling me that we hadn't been in because Linus had had a cold or something.  She was telling me that he'd spit up.  I forgot that "sick" here means vomit.  As in "Oops.  You've got some sick in your hair!"  The way Americans use sick is usually called "ill" here.  So if you say to a Brit "I feel sick", don't be surprised if they hand you a trash can.  

Anyway... we had a nice laugh when I explained my confusion and then I grabbed a rag and cleaned Linus' shirt.  Then I ate a tasty Bacon, Brie and Cranberry sandwich, a few olives, and split a caramel chocolate square with my nephew.

The end.

Rabbit on.

Spurred by reader Michelle's comment on my last post, I decided to devote a couple of posts to children's songs in the US and UK.

I mentioned that we've been going to Rhythm Time where we sing a variety of songs with the babies.  We shake maracas and tambourines.  We bounce and dance and act silly.  It's pretty fun.  Linus is liking it more and more each week.  Sometimes he ends up eating the whole time instead of participating, but I figure the exposure to music is good for him regardless.  He's still not a big fan of when the drums get banged too loudly.  I'm not a big fan of loud noises, so perhaps he gets that from me.  We also sing songs and do movements at Baby Yoga, which I think Linus prefers for it's more mellow vibe.

Linus shaking his maraca.

One song that we sing at yoga is new to me.  It's called "Run Rabbit Run", and it goes:

Run, rabbit.  Run, rabbit.

Run, run, run.

Don't let the Farmer get his

Gun, gun, gun.

He'll get by without his rabbit pie.

So, Run, rabbit.  Run, rabbit.

Run, run, run.

We generally sing it while we're moving the babies' legs in a running motion, which is supposed to be good for digestion and releasing gas.  The yoga teacher told us a story the other day about how she'd recently done a Baby Yoga workshop at a conference and got in trouble for using this song because the organizers felt it was insensitive to the large number of vegetarians present.  I pointed out that it could actually be construed as pro-vegetarian as it encourages the rabbit to elude the Farmer!  What could be more veg-friendly!? :)  In reality this song is about World War 2 and is meant to poke fun at the Germans.  How very political!

On a note unrelated to singing, do you know what it means if someone says "Oh, she does rabbit on"?  It could easily be applied to me and my penchant for verbosity.  It means "she sure talks incessantly".  Word is that it's cockney rhyming slang-  "Rabbit and Pork" -> pork rhymes with talk (if you use a cockney accent, though I think it's a stretch).  So to "rabbit" means to "talk".  I prefer to think about it as how rabbits are known for going at it like, well, rabbits and that somehow relates to the speed of the chatter... or something...

Good conclusion, Meg.  "Or something"...  Yep, that's how I roll.

Fire Fire!

Yesterday at Tummies and Tinies (the mommy group that I go to on Wednesday mornings) they had a Fire Safety Officer (FSO) there to talk to us about... well... fire safety.  I think we would have all preferred to be left to our own devices and had a nice chat while we played with our kids, but we dutifully listened to the woman's presentation.

Babies Everywhere!

(A different day at Tummies and Tinies)

She went over basic fire safety topics and told us about the top fire hazards in the home.  I can't say that I learned anything earth-shattering, but it's nice to have a refresher on safety issues from time to time- especially now that there's a baby in the house, we want to be on top of things!  

At one point in her talk, the woman told us about a woman who's young daughter's nightgown caught on fire.  She said that the woman had picked up her daughter and run with her to the bathroom, put her in the tub and run the water over her to put the fire out.  The daughter ended up with burns on over 50% of her body.  The FSO asked what the mother should have done instead.  There was a brief pause in the room.  You know the kind.  When a room full of only semi-interested adults are waiting to see if someone else will call out the answer.  

I proudly called out "Stop, drop, and roll!"  The FSO looked at me with vague surprise in her eyes and said "Yes.  That's right."  The other mothers turned to look at me with interest on their faces.  I queried, "Do they not teach that here?"  The FSO explained that they teach the concept of smothering the fire, but not the key phase of "Stop, drop, and roll" that is so ubiquitous in childhood safety education in The States.  One of my friends said that she'd forgotten that was what you should do, but confirmed that she had been taught it in the past.  She was impressed with my little catch phrase and softly repeated it to herself saying "I'm going to use that!"  I thought it was so funny that something so ingrained in me was totally novel to this room full of people!  

It reminds me, yet again, of all those tiny little differences between cultures.  The sayings that aren't common to both societies.  Like in America it's "Buckle up for safety", whilst in the UK it's "Clunk, click, every trip".  It still happens every once in a while that Ross or I will say something and the other will be baffled as to what they mean.  It keeps things fresh. ;)

As a fire related sidenote:  At the music group that we go to on Tuesdays we sing different nursery rhyme songs.  Most of them are familiar to me, but the first week one came along that I'd never heard before.  It goes:

London's burning.  London's burning.

Fetch the engines.  Fetch the engines.

Fire, fire!  Fire, fire!

Pour on water.  Pour on water.

The group's leader could tell that I didn't know the song by the look on my face and said that I'd have to bring in an "American" nursery rhyme to teach the group.  I still haven't been able to think of any that don't have UK roots.  Isn't it funny that nursery rhymes are all so old and no new ones have really caught on?

What catch phrases do you know that don't occur in both cultures?

Do you know any "American" nursery rhymes?

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? 

On Baby wearing

One of the items I most wanted in terms of baby gear was a baby carrier.  I think sometimes attachment parenting can be a little hippy dippy wackadoodle, but there are elements that I like. Mostly, the idea of having our baby close to me, but still having the use of both hands was very appealing. I'd read that it was a great way to calm babies. Also living in a third floor (2nd floor English style) flat meant that not having to haul our stroller around was a big plus too.

I did some research on the various available styles.  Ross had some strong opinions on carriers. Namely, he really didn't like the traditional style.

Like this

As he put it, he wouldn't want to be carried that way, so why would he carry the baby like that.  Add to this the fact that most of the people we would see wearing them looked incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. I can only assume they are wearing it incorrectly because the baby dangles down between their legs by their crotch, rather than up on the tummy.  

So I set out to find something different for us to use.  I knew friends that had tried the Moby and loved it, but was put off by tales of it being complicated.  I knew that we'd both be less likely to use something that was hard to use.  Eventually I found the Babasling.  I added it to our wishlist and hoped that it would be a good solution for us.  I didn't want to be one of those mommies that ended up with several discarded baby items before finding "the one".  I was so excited when my aunt and uncle purchased the sling for us and looked forward to using it.

One month photo shoot

Now that Linus is nearing 3 months old, I can say that this sling is easily one of our most used pieces of baby gear.  I LOVE using it for quick trips to the grocery store.  I walk to the store and then can carry the shopping home and up the stairs without wrestling a stroller too.  I've worn it around the house too when Linus is a bit fussy and I need to get things (like dishes, laundry, or even eating lunch) done.  I have worn it on longer trips too, but haven't quite figured out a great way to carry the diaper bag along with the baby in a sling as it's a bit awkward.  

One of the most fun side-effects of baby-wearing is one that I hadn't anticipated.  Other people LOVE it!  I get such reaction from people- of all ages- when I wear Linus.  People coo and smile at us when they see his little head sticking out.  They ask to peek in when he's nestled up sleeping.  It's a much bigger reaction than I get when we're out with the stroller.  Some of my mommy friends were complaining that people weren't oohing and aahing over their babies whilst out and about and I told them that slings were the way to go!  I don't know if it's the novelty of it (you don't see many people wearing babies here), or just that it's more visible than if the baby is nestled out of the way in a stroller.

Waiting for the tram, on the way to the Duck Race

I wore Linus when we went into town to see the Duck Race this year and I've never seen so many smiling faces.  Ross and I were joking that we should take pictures of people's reactions because it's just so much fun.  It's great to know that Linus brings a little bit of joy to the world at large- and not just to his two love-struck parents.  

I have so many people ask me about the sling- and not just mothers!  A man about my dad's age was totally fascinated by it the other day, asking me all kinds of questions about how it works, the safety, the comfort, etc.  I've turned into quite the Babasling Ambassador*!  

I'm looking forward to trying a few different positions as Linus gets older-especially the outward facing ones.  I'll be intrigued to see if it continues to be a good solution as he gets bigger and heavier.  For the time being it's great and I only get a sore back if I wear him for exceptionally long time periods or distances.  I'm so pleased that something I anticipated loving and using a lot has worked so well for us.  

I think my favorite reaction I've gotten so far was when I walked past some students getting out of class.  A young boy- about 12 or so- who should have been too cool to notice a little baby saw us.  He cracked a huge smile, and yelled out to me "That is well cute!"  (For my American readers, "well" is a British slang/slightly street way of saying "very, super, or totally".)  

Do you baby-wear?

What's your carrier of choice?

Have you ever had high hopes for a product?  Did it meet the expectation or let you down?

*Just to be clear, this is a made up/self-given title and Babasling do not know who I am.  My sling was purchased by my awesome Aunt and Uncle as a gift after we'd put it on our Amazon UK Wishlist.  I just am really happy with it, and like to share what works for us.

Cheerful Sunday

The word "faff" is awesome.  It's much classier than many alternatives.
It simply means "waste of time or needless delay".  It can be used as a noun ("The service is terrible in that restaurant. It's such a faff.") or a verb ("We're running late! Stop faffing and let's go.")  This one of the few Britishisms that I've adopted and it makes me cheerful!

love it!

What words make you happy?

What Britishisms do you use?

Term of endearment

Lately, I've been hearing something that strikes me as strange.  It's not a new thing to hear, but there were two different instances tonight that brought it to the forefront of my mind.  It's to do with a term of endearment that I've heard bandied about quite a bit here in England.

Who can I send this card to?

We went to our third week of Birth Classes tonight.  (We covered that I might be emotional and Ross should try to help out.  For nearly 2 hours.... well worth it...)   The class was led by two women who work at two separate area Children's Centres.  They seemed to know each other, but not particularly well.  One of the women referred to the other as "my love" for the entire evening.  As in- "Have you seen the handouts on What to Take to the Hospital, my love?"  I can't imagine giving a presentation with my co-worker at my old job and referring to her as "my love"- and we were very good friends.  She was even a bridesmaid in my wedding!  But "my love"?  She's not "my love".  And I'm pretty sure the woman in question was not the "love" of the other woman either...

After the class, we went to get dinner at Pizza Express.  (Two for one deals with the Taste Card rock!)  The waitress referred to each of us as her love!  "Here's your pizza, my love."  "Can I get you anything else, my love?"  "Let me get the bill for you, my love."  I'm not her love!  And unless Ross has some serious explaining to do, he isn't either.  One of the baristas at our Starbucks does it too, but for some reason it doesn't bother me quite so much.  Perhaps because we are regular customers, so we have some sort of relationship at least.

Now, I've had some exposure to this term of endearment in the past.  My grandmother will refer to me as "my love".  I've heard her use it when talking to other family members as well.  Her children and grandchildren.  This makes sense to me.  We are all related after all.  Ostensibly, she does in fact love us.  We are from her loins, either directly or once removed... thus the possessive.  I call Ross "my love".  I'm allowed.  He is my husband and I love him!

It's not uncommon for men to refer to women, even strangers as "love".  Without the my.  As in "Calm down, love" or "What can I do for you, love?"  For some reason, this seems more endearing to me.    I know some women find this demeaning or offensive, and I can imagine a scenario in which is would be patronizing or irritating.  Most times I've heard it though, it comes across as sweet and jocular.  Like a grandpa being sweet.  I guess that makes me some form of sexist.  Maybe it's the "my" that makes the difference.

What do you think of the use of "my love" as a form of address from a stranger or in a work setting?

What terms of endearment do you use generically?  (In Texas, it's not uncommon to call a woman "sweetie" or "sweetheart".)

Possessive

Whilst watching our favourite soap a few weeks ago, I noticed something...

The Webster Sisters

Sophie and Rosie Webster were having a discussion regarding the state of their parents failing marriage.  I think Sophie was angry about her father breaking up her lesbian wedding at the altar by implying that she didn't want to go through with it just before the vows.  (These British soaps are very high minded!)

Sophie kept referring to her parents as "my mum" and "my dad", even though she was talking to her sister.  It hit my ear strangely.  I noticed this also applied when Sophie was talking to her mom about her dad.  She kept calling him "my dad".  There's also a use of "my sister" when talking to parents, rather than using her name.  Which to me... If I said "Matt" to my parents, they know who he is... he's my brother, their son.  

I can't imagine talking to my brother about our parents and including the "my".  I mean, we have the same parents, so he knows who I mean when I say "mom" or "dad".  I realized that, even when talking to Ross, I don't include the "my".  If I'm calling someone "mom", the "my" is implied in my world.  Does that make sense?  I mean who else would Ross think I was talking about?  

I asked Ross about this and he thought for a second and said he would have included the "my" when talking to his sister about his parents or to one parent about another.  I would never do it in talking to family about family, but if I was talking about family to a friend, I'd be much more likely to use the "my".  

Ross wasn't sure if this was solely a northern thing, or a British thing (but said probably a northern...).  I don't think either way is "right", but it's a weird little cultural difference, isn't it?  I love these tiny differences that hit your ear because they're not quite what your used to.

What do you think?

Do you include the "my" or is it implicit?

Do you use it with some audiences, but not with others?

Epiphany

You guys!
Last week I had an epiphany.  For real.  Like a life changing revelation.

I was reading Badgers with Knives (a blog written by an Expat living in Liverpool) for the first time.  She linked in her post to a post on another blog.  That linked post was the source of my epiphany.

It seems ridiculous, but this post really opened my eyes to a problem that I'd never fully understood.  I think it's going to change my life.  Go read it now.

Did you read it?  Is your mind blown?

Jibber Jabber!

Small talk is not the same in every country!  It's very different in the US and the UK!
What?!?!  Why didn't anyone ever tell me this?  I'm a friendly, cheerful, chatty person with good social skills.  I even have a masters degree in Counseling.  That means I know how to listen and communicate with people.

Confession time:  I haven't made any friends in the UK.
I've lived here for a year and three quarters.  It doesn't help that I work with Ross in our business, so I don't really have an "in" to meet people.  I've tried a couple of times to initiate small talk when out and about, but it's never quite worked.  People (everywhere, not just here) are set in their routines and it takes a bit of doing to get them to veer from their normal course.

I'd heard that being pregnant/having a baby would be a great entrée into the sisterhood of women.  I figured that had to be true.  I've been attending a weekly aqua aerobics class.  There are usually 20 or so women, all at different stages of pregnancy.  I thought, "Awesome!  Built-in things in common.  Pregnant women love to talk about being pregnant... and stuff... right?"

I arrived early for the my first class, awkwardly standing around, not knowing where to go or what I was supposed to do.  I stood around waiting for the midwife to arrive and offer me some guidance.  Eventually the midwife showed up and had me fill in a sheet with my info and we stood waiting for other women to arrive.  The women were all perfectly pleasant, but in a distant abstract way.

There's a period of time during our workout where we pair up and there's opportunity to chat.  I've had the same conversation with each partner every week.  "When are you due?"  "Is this your first?"  "Boy or girl?"  "Where are you giving birth?"  No names.  No personal info of any kind.

I thought maybe after-swim chat would be where it was at.  (Unintentional rhyme!)  In every (American) group class or meeting I've ever been to/participated in/heard of there has been a period of lingering and chit chat after the fact.  You know what I'm talking about.  You leave a meeting and you linger in the parking lot talking about your upcoming week.  You grab a coffee and talk about what you do for work.  Something...
Every week, I've gotten out to the pool and headed to the changing rooms and immediately lost sight of every single woman.  I don't know how it happens!  There must be some sort of magic or David Copperfield illusion involved to make this feat physically possible.  The place is semi-maze-like, but still.  Not a single pregnant woman to be found!

So every week I change clothes and head out to the parking lot, slightly dejected.  But now!  Now!  I know what part of the problem has been.  It's me!  Well sort of.  My expectations of small talk.  I keep expecting it to go somewhere.  To follow the familiar patterns that I'm so used to.  When it doesn't, I feel wrong-footed and awkward.

Since reading this article I have attended aqua aerobics once and prenatal yoga for the first time.  Both times, I was able to feel new confidence and freedom in my epiphany.  I changed my expectations and relaxed.   I still haven't made any friends, but hey... at least I didn't feel awkward the whole time.  I'm just accepting it for what it is.

By the way, wondering why Ross had never explained this cultural difference to me I read the article to him.  He had the following reaction:  "Huh.  Yeah I guess that's probably true.  It explains why I've never been good at small talk either.  I'd rather have a conversation that matters."
British cultural liaison fail!

Have you ever found out a simple piece of information that totally blew your mind?

A Casualty of Ameringlish

When I first moved to England, I found that there are a few words that have completely different meanings to what I was used to.  One of the most confusing was the word CASUALTY.

The first time I noticed this confusion was when I heard a news report of some accident or other.  They report went something like:

"An accident in North England has resulted in 8 casualties.  No fatalities have been reported."

I was so confused!  If the first sentence was true, then how could the second also be true?!?
In America, if a news story reports a casualty, that's really bad news.  It means that someone has died.
But then I remembered something.  There's a show here called....

Sorta like ER...

And it's not a show about death (always... obviously sometimes patients die), but rather a show about the Casualty Department at Holby City Hospital (a fictional hospital that is the subject of a different show).  The Casualty Department, also known as A&E (Accident and Emergency) is the equivalent of the ER.  

Here a casualty simply means an injury.  Very confusing for a poor, unsuspecting American!  So if you're ever injured in England and someone asks you if you need to go to Casualty, don't worry... they aren't implying that it's so bad you'll die.