People who CVS are bad-grammaring

There have always been those types who, unable to put themselves to the trouble of finding the right word to use and fitting it into the right context, simply grab onto the handiest approximation of what they intend to convey and slap a good-sounding ending onto it.

Pretending to turn a noun into a verb by appending a suffix to it - for instance, pretending to turn a noun into a verb by suffixing it - is a common and long-standing trick. I know this, of course. Language has been evolving for eons, and eventually the modified word passes into accepted usage. I mean, nobody bothers to police the non-verb-ity (nounity? nouniness?) of microwave or contact any more.

But nowhere has this trend been so starkly egregious as in the recent wave of CVS enthusiasts. 'Had fun CVSing!' or 'Good trip CVSing!' is their motto, without bothering to analyse what precisely it is they did at CVS. Was it, indeed, shopping? Well, then, why not say so, to wit, 'I've been shopping at CVS!'? I know, I know, it takes up so many more syllables that way! 'I've been CVSing!' they declare, with all the pithiness of the good bargain-hunters they are. It stands to reason that those people who are careful with their money would be likewise conservative of extra syllables.

What if we started applying this funny little grammar freehand to jolly well any area of life? The results could save us thousands of wasted breaths a year:

'I'm fooding!' vs. the cumbersome 'I'm eating food.'
'He's bathrooming' vs. 'He's using the bathroom' or even 'He's in the bathroom.' (Because, of course, in our world, no one would ever broach this topic in the first person.)
'I was carring' vs. 'I was riding in/driving/washing the car.' (See how deliciously sloppy and unspecific the first instance is? No need to waste time pinpointing the exact nature of the activity.)
'I'm typing text' vs. 'I'm texting'? Oooh, slippery slope.

The six quirks quiz

Thanks to Queen of Carrots, I get to come up with six unspectacular quirks to share. I do believe that memes were invented solely to pull uninspired bloggers out of writing slumps. And I had to ponder long and hard to come up with at least one that didn't involve language. (I mean, that would have been dreadfully lame, if quite accurate: 1) I don't like it when people misuse apostrophes; 2) It grates on me when people mangle turns of phrase, i.e. step foot inside or making due, etc. Unspectacular in the extreme.)

1) The title of this post makes me think of what the Guinness Book of World Records lists as the world's trickiest tongue-twister, to wit: The sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick.

2) Whenever we sing Amazing Grace, I quietly murmur (quietly, so as not to disrupt the mood of reverence), in the last stanza, 'We've no fewer days to sing God's praise...' I can't help it. I just can't bring myself to sing bad grammar. And it works, too, because there are two notes on that word anyway. Why didn't they just write it the right way to begin with??

3) I never tried to play the innocent naive sheltered homeschool debutante, but I'm on ongoing alert to discover just how incomprehensive my education in the seamier side of the ways of the world really was. Michael is frequently put to the task of having to tactfully tell me what, in colloquial language, I just said. Only recently did I learn that the phrase 'knocked up' somehow means, of all things, 'pregnant,' and not, as I had always employed it to mean, knocked about, as in, well-versed in the school of hard knocks, my-head-is-bloody-but-unbowed, that sort of thing. Pity. Apparently the English language is a veritable minefield of double entendres and low-class allusions. Figuratively speaking, mind you.

4) I wax very sarcastic when people misuse the word 'literally,' apparently mistaking it for just another adverb, interchangeable with 'really' and 'like, totally.' ('It literally fell into our laps!' they gush. 'Really?' I inquire, craning my head upwards to look and, possibly, take cover. 'That's amazing!')

5) I have never dyed my hair, but I have boxes upon boxes of hair dye stashed away in my closet should occasion require it. Just a couple of weeks ago I bought a set of fake French manicure nails. I keep staring at them, wondering if I dare try them on.

6) Ten years ago, when I moved across the country, all my worldly goods consisted of a bed, a dresser, and four boxes of stuff. Five years ago, when I was preparing to get married, all my worldly goods consisted of a bed, a dresser, a closetful of stuff, three bookshelves of books, one bookshelf of knick-knacks and other junk, and a hopechest. At least it all fit into one room. Today, my stuff sprawls to fill an entire house. Granted, Michael contributed some stuff and we got a lot of loot at wedding and baby showers, but my oh my where did all this stuff come from? Why doesn't money multiply that readily?

Now the rules are that I am supposed to tag six other people for the meme, but I always like to leave these things open (no pressure and all that, plus I can never keep track of who's already done it.) So it's a self-tagging meme. If you want to play, jump in and join the fun.

I am not cut out for this

We've been battling sickness here for some time, and it's usually been low-grade enough to overlook. Between runny noses for the girls and a sore throat for me, I haven't yet declared it to be a full-fledged cold. Michael, however, succumbed in grand style a couple of weeks ago. He doesn't get sick often, but when he does he does it completely. He was sick over the weekend, and ended up staying home from church as well as from work the next couple of days.

So I got the girls up, fed, and dressed on my own, which I do every day, but this time it felt overwhelming. We drove to church alone, and I got them checked into class by myself and went to Sunday school on my own. I had to unpack the stroller on my own, collect the tired girls after class, and keep them happy on the drive home.

I kept thinking how glad I am not to be a single mom, and feeling slightly ashamed of being so overwhelmed and tired by just a few days of running things on my own, when so many people do this every day of their lives. Military wives do it for months at a time. I admire these people so much, and I'm so glad I have a strong, (mostly) healthy husband to tag-team with.

I was feeling all full of contentment and gratitude when Michael got better, and resolved to be more thankful than ever for my life, now that I'd learned to appreciate how good I really had it. Enter these last two weeks.

Michael has had computer training for work several days last week and this, necessitating a longer drive and late nights (a couple of nights he just stopped off at the office afterwards to catch up on work and the girls never saw him at all that day).

Ever doing my part to save on gasoline costs, I coaxed Michael to take the car so I wouldn't be tempted to run out on frivolous errands. Yesterday I still had a scratchy throat, so I decided to stay home from choir, too. We would stay home this week, make our home our castle, clean up from top to bottom, and learn contentment in our circumstances. Which is a noble resolve, but I was never one to flourish in solitude, far from the madding crowd. The days have been long, and Saturday will come not a moment too soon.

Happy Mother's Day to you, too

Now don't think I'm taking umbrage at all those well-meaning good wishes, but Mother's Day is another one of those heavily marketed Hallmark holidays that I just don't buy into. I certainly do believe in honouring one's mother, but I think it should consist of the same common courtesy and respect that motivates one all year long, and not be reserved for one glorious hurrah a year.

This aversion to all the fuss and feathers may have something to do with the fact that my 'love language' (cleverly hidden in quotation marks so you won't sneer at me if you don't buy into the Five Love Language philosophy either) doesn't lean toward the giving of gifts, and certainly doesn't go anywhere remotely near the giving of overpriced, mass-produced, unoriginal cards and flowers. If I liked expensive, trite, generic cards for my birthday, then I'd probably enjoy getting them for Mother's Day, too.

I don't know why everyone pretends to think it's such a nice treat for husband and children to take Momma out to eat for Mother's Day. Most Americans eat out a lot anyway, so why should it be any big deal? And anyone can spend money - eating out requires no forethought, no sacrifice, no effort. The real treat would be to fix Mother Dear a meal at home, and clean up afterwards.

Finally, I have no earthly idea why so many blessed people - whom I am most emphatically NOT the mother of - wished me a Happy Mother's Day on Sunday. Isn't that something you say to your mother?

There, I've got that off my mind, and can rest easy until next month, when I'll have to get on my soapbox again and explain why I am not spending any money on Father's Day.

A little learning

Jane is prodigiously proud of her rapidly expanding vocabulary and cognitive skills, and never misses a chance to trot them out.

Yesterday, when she walked by, I remarked, 'Hi, big girl!'

Jane grinned and replied, 'Hi, medium woman!'

Then she turned to Ella and said, 'Hi, little baby!'

She paused. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Then she looked at me. 'Where's big man?'

Three years ago today