Clean Up! Niech Żyje Nam!

The other day we were all in the living room watching TV together, or so I thought.  When I got up to go to the kitchen I heard a tiny voice coming from the playroom.  I went to see what was going on and here is what I found.  In the (very messy) playroom Spencer was cleaning up of his own volition and singing his very own version of the clean-up song.  note: He was mostly naked because I'd taken off his clothes before he ate spaghetti for dinner.

The Polish congratulatory song "Sto Lat" starts in almost the same way as "The Clean-up Song", so I can definitely see how this remix came to be.  I still think he's a little smarty(under)pants.

Priests, Brownies, Doormats and Hellos

The priest came for his yearly visit to our house on Saturday.  Every year at Epiphany a priest goes house to house to sprinkle holy water and ask a blessing on the home, update church membership records, visit briefly and receive a little white envelope. A different priest comes every year, and this one was great.  In the past I would say that all of the priests were nice, some were very nice, and some civil-nice.  We've had a priest who repeatedly took the Lord's name in vain (but was quite merry and friendly) and one who interrupted Greg almost every single time he tried to say anything.  Greg's parents had one, one year, who asked if they minded if he smoked in their living room.  I think that was a few good years ago, though.  More recently we were at my in-laws for the visit when a priest asked his mother when she was finally going to give up smoking.  The priest who came this year had been to Salt Lake City and seen the world and was very open and asked a lot of questions.  It was very nice, but the conversation was kind of one-sided, with us doing the most talking (answering questions) before he had to go.  (note: we skip the holy water and the white envelope)

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Tonight, brownies after FHE will end our Week Without Sugar, which was actually a week without candy, chocolate and sweet baked treats.  I still allowed a little jam and the occasional yogurt and sweetened dried fruit like craisins.  It was very, very good, but it was also very hard for me.  I mean, I did it, and I was okay, but I often felt worn out (despite eating lots of good fruits and vegetables) and ate more than I should have because I always felt I needed something.  Yes, I am clearly addicted to sugar (shocker) and this was a very good experiment.  We are limiting sugar in our diets from now on (notably, taking the sugar out of breakfast most days) and I'm actually really excited.

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We went to get a new doormat and found two options.  One had two rows of large, earth-toned circles.  The other had "DOMOWA" written across it in enormous type.  This was a puzzlement for all of us.  I kept thinking and thinking and then I realized, "OH!!"  Domowa means "home", but only the adjective.  Dom means (and rhymes with) home.  Domowa means "home" as in "praca domowa" (homework) or "wojna domowa" (home war, translation: family feud).  You read it on the mat and think "Home what?"  I think this is another example of google translate fail.  We bought the colored circles, but I"m thinking about going back for the other one, as it would be a great conversation piece.  Plus it's silly.

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On one of my walks (I'm doing great with my resolutions!  Still!) I went past a home a few blocks away that has a lovely garden, now barren, which I peek in at thought the fence with my kids in the summer.  I've seen the older couple that lives there a few times but don't know them.  The man was outside on the sidewalk as I walked past, and instead of the half smile I usual throw at people, I actual vocalized a "dzien dobry" (good day).  I used the inflection that is kind of "all business" that mere acquaintances use (thinking this was already too much), where the first two syllables are pronounced low and the last one is pronounced in a higher tone.  He responded, going up on the MIDDLE syllable, which is how you say it when you are really happy to see someone.  For some reason this totally made my day.  I was expecting maybe a nod of the head, if anything.  I have clearly been living in Poland too long.  Or long enough?

If

If I had a feesh I would keep it in a bowl in my leeving room and it would make keesy faces to everyone all day long.

I just decided to make up a short story (yes, that was a short story, with a fascinating plot) using just three of the words I found today in a chidren's Polish/English story book that had a pronunciation guide for some of the words. I changed the spelling so you would know how to pronounce things PROPERLY.

Parenting Technique Etc.

There are three kinds of parents The kind that can't stand to hear their baby cry/scream out of sympathy, the kind who can't stand to hear it out of annoyance and the kind who don't hear it, or at least don't let it affect them too much either way.

I'm a little of each, but Greg is almost always the second one. He doesn't like it. He likes to be far away from it. But when you're driving in a car with the child, it's hard to get away.

This weekend when we were driving to Łódż to visit his parents, Aaron did really well. Almost the whole 5 hour drive (with no stops). But he whined a little. And at some point the whining turned into crying. And after about a minute of that Greg shouted, "Aaron! No no! All done crying!" Shouting in a car is a little different than shouting in a house or outside. Sort of like a baby crying in a car is different than in a house or outside. As soon as Greg's short but loud shout was done, the crying stopped. And didn't return for rest of the drive (about an hour).

As we were pulling into the parking lot below his parent's apartment building I said, "I know any amount of crying seems to go on forever, but Aaron actually did really well and only complained for maybe 10 minutes total on the whole drive!" To which Greg replied, "Yeah, because I screamed at him." To which I replied, "Yes, because you believe in anger management." About which we laughed and made lots of clever comments then Greg started coming up with other situations in which to use this philosophy: "Someone does something wrong at work: (in a pretend scream) 'YOU IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?!" and when someone asks what's the matter I tell them it's my new management technique: Anger Management. I works for my kids!" Greg is a very impressive manager, but I can't wait to see how they like his new style!

Also, while we were driving there we got snow! And it stuck!! And I love it.

Also, every evening when we are visiting Greg's parents and we say family prayer together Greg's father chooses one of us to pray. Usually he chooses Evie or David, but occasionally it's me or Greg. One evening he called on me. I started it out in English on accident and had to backtrack (reminding me of the days I sometimes started my (silent) personal prayers: We are daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us--Whoops! And the one time when I was a kid and started our family prayer: I pledge allegiance to the---whoops! I think those are good indications your prayers might be a bit rote.)

Greg's parents live in an itty bitty apartment. Tiny. 38 square meters, if that means anything to you. And in a building of maybe 75 apartments surrounded by many other buildings full of apartments in the second largest city in Poland. Squished. Which made it all the stranger when, during my prayer I thanked God for Greg's parent's farm. They don't have a farm. They've never had a farm. They don't even want a farm, I don't think. His dad laughed. During the prayer. So I opened one eye and gave Greg the word "hospitality?" and he gave me a very different word than the one I'd said. Whoops! But then I fixed it so now we all know that I'm really not thankful for their farm so much as for their kindness in having us in their home.

And I didn't find out what I'd actually said until after the prayer when Greg told me what gospodarstwo means (which I actually knew but forgot). If you speak Polish, hopefully you can see the connection between that and gospodarz, which can mean "host" so I was thinking in terms of their "hosting" us. Apparently you can't say that. And I even know the right word for hospitality, but forgot again! Sheesh! I can't even get my own kids names right half the time, please don't ask me to speak a foreign language!

Did You Hear the One About

I love jokes. Maybe everyone loves jokes, but probably not everyone loves them as much as I do. When I hear one on the radio or Greg shares one he heard at work, or I read one on some one's blog, like the locking the doors in the church parking lot one from Nathan*, I almost feel like some one's given me a brownie. I know! I love jokes that much!!

The good/bad thing about jokes is that I never remember them. It can be the funniest thing I've ever heard and I won't remember it tomorrow. The good thing about that is that whenever someone asks me the question in my title, I can always say "no" because even if I have heard it, I won't remember that I've heard it.

There are a few jokes that I do remember, though, and I'm going to share them with you.

I don't consider myself to be above children's jokes. Here are some my kids tell that I like (or mostly that I remember):
__________
WHAT DO YOU CALL:
a fish with an eye missing? "a fsh"
a grizzly bear with no teeth? a gummy bear
__________
Where do french fries come from? grease
__________
On their patrol two policemen notice that the keys have been left in a fancy sports car. One officer says to the other, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He says "Yeah." The first police officer says, "Then you're under arrest!"
__________
And my favorite knock-knock joke ever:
knock-knock
who's there
little old lady
little old lady who?
I didn't know you could yodel!
__________

Here are two Polish jokes that I like, and that you've very likely already heard (although most likely I'm accidentally changing/ruining them a little):
__________
During his eye exam, the doctor asks the Pole who is looking at the eye chart, "Can you read the last line?"

"Read it!?! I know the guy!"
__________
It's best if you speak Polish with this one as the dialogue is actually spoken in Polish, but I don't really care because I want to tell it anyway. You mostly just have to know:
tu (pronounced like too) = "here"
ten = "this one"
A Pole living in America goes to his dentist complaining of a toothache. The dentist asks him where it hurts. The Pole, who's English isn't very good just points to the tooth in question and says, "Tu." The dentist proceeds to remove two of the man's teeth.
He goes home and, complaining to his friend, explains what happened, "He asked where it hurt and I showed him, 'tu!' and he pulled out two of my teeth!!" His concerned friend replies, "Good thing you didn't say 'ten'!"
__________

And lastly one of a few jokes I have made in my life that made me laugh much harder than anyone else who heard it (has that ever happened to you? I sorta hate that. I'm pretty normal and don't usually laugh at my own "jokes" but this time I could not stop. That usually only happens late at night when Greg and I are hysterical over how hilarious we both are, but that's different. I think that's called the giggles. I didn't have those when I cracked this one, and it popped out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.)
Greg had been watching the news. It was something about space travel. Later he asked, "Lisa, did you hear that the Chinese went to the moon?" I replied, "All of them!?!"

Don't try to tell me that a) that isn't funny, or b) you've heard one like it before. I won't believe either statement.
* In case you missed that one here it is:
A California Mormon went to visit a Provo Mormon. When they went to the hardware store, the California Mormon instinctively locked his friend's car door, and the Provo Mormon said, "Oh, don't worry about it. This is Provo." The same thing happened at the mall.
On Sunday, when they got to church the California Mormon was proud that he remembered not to lock. To his surprise, his Provo friend locked his door and asked his friend to do the same.
Confused, the California Mormon said, "You didn't lock at the Mall, why do it at CHURCH?"
"'Cause if I don't," the Provo Mormon said, "by the time church is over, my car will be full of zucchini!"
-told by Walter Whipple, Provo, UT 1996

What Happens When You Mix Languages

We almost choked on our sandwiches, with this one.
na pół = in half (prounounced "nah poo")
na = on, in, for etc.

We were eating grilled tuna and cheese on this funky, monster huge bread. David was struggling with his and told me, "I need my sandwich to be on pół."

I believe I'll keep this one in my files for whenever I'm feeling sad or depressed. I laugh every single time I think about it.

What Happens When You Mix Languages

At lunch we were eating a pear. I said, "This pear is soczysta." Evie replied, "Pewnie bardzo dobrze ją umyłaś."

(If you don't speak Polish: soczysta=juicy, czysta=clean Evie's reply can be translated, "You must have washed it very well.")