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!

How Would You Like Your 'Bangs'?

How indeed? I hear you ask.

Well, I'm talking about hair...what were you thinking about?

Luke was in desperate need of a haircut, being mistaken for a girl once was one time too many for Ian so reluctantly I took him to a hairdressers for a trim.

Hairdresser: " How do you want his Bangs?"
Me: "His what?"
Hairdresser: "His Bangs". Lifting up his fringe
Me: "Say that again...his what?"
Hairdresser: "His Bangs"
Me: "Never heard that one before...I'd call that his fringe"
Hairdresser: "His what?"
Me: "Fringe....the bit that covers your forehead"
Hairdresser: "We call it a Bangs, never heard of a fringe"
Me: "So we do all learn something new every day! Trim it.

Maybe I just got off the boat, maybe if I were a hairdresser, maybe, maybe...whatever, but I have never ever heard of a fringe called a bangs before! http://beauty.about.com/od/hairstylephotogalleries/ss/photosbangs.htm

Toilet, Bathroom or Potty?

As many of you know Ellie is almost 5, going on 15.

She has an endearing habit (not) of shouting at the top of her voice 'I NEED THE TOILET'.

After receiving several strange side looks in restaurants and supermarkets when she declares her need I decided that we had better work on our phrasing so last weekend just as she had screeched out her need for all to hear we had a little chat - it went something like this...

Me: Ellie, I think that perhaps it would be more polite while we're here in America if, instead of hollering at the top of your voice that you'd like to use the toilet we quietly ask instead if we can go to the 'bathroom.'
Ellie: Why? A toilet is a toilet Mummy and it doesn't have a bath in it at a restaurant.
Me: I know, but Americans don't seem to use the word 'toilet' and prefer to say bathroom.
Ellie: OK Mummy, I will definitely try to remember to call it a bathroom.

So far so good.

This morning whilst trying my hardest to get both Ellie and Luke to eat up their breakfast so we can get out of the door to school and perhaps not be playing the eternal game of Beat the Clock, Traffic and Red Lights, she shouts her loudest 'I NEED THE TOILET' ever...

Me: Ellie. Please. We've discussed this. We do not shout. We do not call it a toilet. We ask quietly if we can go to the bathroom.
Ellie: At school the teacher says we must ask if we need to 'go potty', but potties are for babies aren't they?
Me: Yes they are but perhaps the other children at school understand that better. At home and when we are out we will say 'bathroom' OK?
Ellie: OK I'll try to remember. But Mummy, there are no Americans here with us at the moment to hear me so it doesn't really matter does it?

I think this could be a long battle.

First Day of School

Ellie started Kindergarten last Thursday. So far, so good she is settling in well and enjoying everything, she has even asked if she can stay later because 'some kids stay longer and get to go to the gym' - After school club I think. Oh yes, and how could I forget...she is also picking up the lingo! As she climbed into the car yesterday afternoon she said. "Tomorrow we have gym so I have to wear my sneakers to school, then she paused, that means trainers OK Mummy? Got it?"

Can-You-Speak -ENGLISH?

This was the question I was asked this morning!

It was 6am. The alarm didn't go off. We had overslept and Ian was late to pick up a colleague from a hotel so while he jumped in the shower I called the hotel and this was how the conversation went...

Me: Good morning please can you tell me if there is a man named Simon waiting in reception to be collected?
Man: Errr say that again
Me: Can you tell me if there is a man waiting in your hotel reception to be collected?
Man: Errr what?
Me: Is there a man.called Simon.waiting.in.reception?
Man: Errrr can you speak English?
Me: (never at my most patient or best at 6am in the morning) I AM English, I am therefore speaking ENGLISH!

Now, Simon who was in fact waiting in reception to be collected had thankfully overheard and got the gist of the conversation and took the phone - thank goodness because I don't know where we would have gone from there!

In India I found it very hard to talk to Indians over the phone, I found their accents too thick and without being able to see their faces it was hard to decipher their words so I avoided talking on the phone unless I had someone nearby who could be my interpreter. I just hadn't imagined that the same thing would happen here! I think I'm going to have to work at 'tuning in' and remember to speak more slowly!

Apparently what I should have said was, 'Is there a guy in the lobby waiting to be picked up', and he would have known exactly what I meant!