Yesterday we returned to the pool with the Balsams. The kiddies had a great time. Lisa took Moshe and Ariella to the big pool, and Ariella spent most of her time asking Moshe if he was ready to go back to the kiddies pool. Like she does with most men (and women), she eventually wore him down and they came to splash around with Yaakov, Michali, and me. And Merav, who was doing more of the snoring and less of the splashing. They all had fun. Yaakov and Michali raced back and forth across the pool, and then dumped water on me. (Fret not, I was wearing my cool new tznius bathing suit. Dump away!) In the midst of a giggle, Yaakov turned abruptly to me and said, "I want to go home now." There's a man who knows what he wants.
Ariella Learns a Bad Word
Well, it was bound to happen sometime. I just didn't think it would be from me. We were playing the word game she got from Saba. The game has two sets of cards "beginnings of words" and "ends of words." (Some of you can already see where this is going....) The goal is to create words using the cards "in play" with the cards in your hand. It's quite a nice game, and I liked that it was reading as well as vocab practice. Ariella sometimes needs to ask whether a word she wants to make is actually a word. For example, if the word "jump" is in play, and she has a "dr," she'll ask, "Is 'drump' a word, Mommy?" Or, "Is 'flig' a word, Mommy?" Today, the word in play was "fit." [Warning: Continue reading only if you are 18 or older!] "Is 'shit' a word, Mommy?"
Now, here's what the good, quick-thinking mother would have done. "Nope, sorry, Ariella." Then, Ariella would simply relegate that word (don't worry, I won't write it again, don't want to offend your sensibilities too much) to the list of nonsense words, like "drump" and "flig," and promptly forget about it. But, as you all know, I am not a good mother. (In fact, my one shining accomplishment - making a white-cake-with-pink-frosting for Ariella's party, was quickly and decidedly outshone today by my good friend Laurie. The cake she made for her daughter's party, people, is the skirt of a Barbie Doll, decorated with pink and all sorts of jewel-like candies. And Barbie, of course, is on top. Unbe-freakin-lievable.)
So, horrified that this word had come out of the tender mouth of my six-year-old, I said, "No! That is a bad word! Don't ever say it!" Of course, Ariella said it again. "Not even Mommy and Daddy say that word. Don't EVER say it." (Unfortunately, my children, as children are wont to do, have picked up on some of my "frustration phrases" as we'll call them. Yaakov routinely shouts out, "Forgidsakes!" and Ariella has been known to say, "Freakin'.") Anyway, Ariella then wanted to know what it meant. I told her. After muttering it to herself a few more times and pleading with me to let her use it in the game, I was able to convince her that we do not, in fact, say that word, ever, ever, ever, and she finally picked something else. Later, we had a similar argument over the word "pish." The truth is, poor girl, she had been stuck with that "ish" for a while. However, the grammar nerd in me, more than the mother, disagreed on the basis that "pish" is not an actual, look-up-able, word. (Neither is "lookupable" but hey, it's my blog.)
I think from now on I'll let Saba be in charge of this game.
A bit of aliyahbyaccident housekeeping. Risa - I am in no position to explain Israeli children's names, seeing as I don't get them myself. Bar may actually be short for "Barbara" - I've heard the ganenet call her that. Or maybe her parents really like chocolate. As for Linor, I got nothing. And we haven't even mentioned "Yarin" or "Neta," which last I checked was a Hebrew-language program at SAR.
People - we have been stuck at 28 Loyal Readers for an unacceptable amount of time! Those of you lurking around - declare yourselves! Join the club! Free aliyahbyaccident mousepads to all who join!