Caught Between a Rock and the Middle of the Pond

Something not so strange is happening to us. And, I mean ALL of us. Inevitable really.

Now this is no big deal, just an observation and par for the course, but in varying degrees the four of us are all speaking more and more Americano.

Kids are kids and they talka the talk and walka the walk to fit in. I did exactly the same thing moving around the UK when I was a child; from Yorkshire to Durham to Scotland to Surrey to Warwickshire. A childhood journey that was probably only the map size of North Carolina but had more regional accents than the melting pot of NYC. In fact I set myself goals each time we moved. 'In two weeks I will fit in', and invariably I did. The only spanner's in the works were my parents who would invariably remind me in front of my peers to 'talk properly'. Grrrr. So I do get it!

So, here we are. For me it's not about fitting in anymore but more about being understood and...just making life a little easier and easing the frustration. For example when, in a restaurant, you are met with blank stares when you ask for a glass of water several times you give in and it becomes "a glaass of warrter", when you tell the landlord the garage, it becomes "the garragge". It's all in the vowels and rrr's you see. No wonder then that Luke needs some speech therapy. But then here lies another problem, names for things vary alot too...for example, the speech therapist showed him a picture of a hoover and expected the answer to be 'vacuum'.

Then there is the North side of the Pond, the North being "OMG I LOVE YOUR ACCENT, WHERE ARE YOU FROM?" Great for conversation starters...for a while...but now, after 15 months, 15 times a day...it's wearing a little thin. Honestly, I find myself just wanting to blend in or just shut the h* up - a difficult concept with two children with primed inter galactic selective hearing when out in public. Somedays I apparently sound English. Somedays I'm Australian and other days I'm between the devil and the Ukraine. Yep, if you're in the habit of saying you're from the UK just answer either England, Scotland, Ireland or Wales if you're asked where you're from because the UK, for some Americans is apparently the Ukraine.

Today:
I asked for tom'A'to in my sandwich, it was subconscious right up until the word spluttered out of my mouth but probably I'm now conditioning, because it was just easier, would attract less attention and there would be no doubt. Ellie announced that she needs to go back to England soon because she "can hear" she's getting an American accent and she's not 'surrre' she wants one! She's not wrong, she can roll those rrrrr's like a local and Pledge Allegiance like the best of them. I'm trying really really hard not to make an issue with pronunciation like my parents did....but it's not easy. And although Luke spends 95% of his time with us he can yell 'Momeeeee' and be heard a mile away and shout 'Awesome' whenever he achieves a result.

In the South of the pond, to the right of the rock is a little school of fish. At age 6 it's all about the 3 R's and spelling....Ahem 'color'? I think not!