We're entering the final stretch of summer vacation now. The boys have returned from their Rhode Island trip, camps are back in swing, AND... we have an exchange student visiting us for the next 3 weeks!
Quite a few of my friends, who know I'm feeling a little crazy lately, have asked me how this came to be. As in, um, really? Another person for you to keep track of? Is that a good idea? I really don't know. Fritz and I discovered (just last week) that we have different stories about how it came to be that we would host a 17 year old boy from Germany. In my version, Fritz was the instigator. In Fritz's version, I was the instigator. Hmmm.
We had an exchange student when Mattias was about 6 months old, four years ago. It was kind of refreshing, in the sense that she was at a really different stage of life. Having her around jolted me out of the baby world and gave me a chance to live (sort of) vicariously through her. I'm not sure that this experience will be the same. I'm at a different stage of life than I was 4 years ago. Also, it was a she and now it's a he. What's he going to do? How bored will he be? Didn't I just post about how hard it is keep kids with a SIX year spread happy? What about when the spread is SIXTEEN years?
I was trying to calm myself down this morning by thinking about how teenage boys can be helpful, right? I mean, BOYS ARE FINE. I have a husband! I have sons! I have brothers! Yes, right: I grew up in a house with boys! No big deal! Then it occurred to me that when my brothers were 17 years old, I wasn't living at home anymore. So maybe I don't know 17 year old boys, GULP.
I'm sure it will be fine. RIGHT?!
Monday, July 28, 2014
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Dialect
Mattias came down with strep throat while he was visiting my parents in Rhode Island. Before we knew it was strep – but while it was looking kind of streppy – my mother called to get treatment information. I ran her through our pre-strep protocol. (Unfortunately, we have one. Fortunately, we haven't had to use it for several months.)
After I got off the phone, Fritz commented on how my language had changed while I talked to my mother. "I had no idea what you were talking about, " Fritz said. Most notably, I had used brand names rather than generic names to talk about medication. A similar conversation between Fritz and I would have used generic names.
It's interesting the way that language can change depending on the context. Our household is an extreme example, with two different languages (English and German) being spoken. But it doesn't take entirely different languages to constitute a change in the language we use. I think we all alter our language based on the context and the people. Fritz can become almost indecipherable to me (even though I speak German) when he is around his family and slips into their own set of dialectic preferences.
Recently there was this quiz in the New York Times that maps your own personal use of American English dialects (and accents, I'd say) graphically on a map of the US. (It's super cool, you should try it.) Both Fritz and I did the quiz. I really wondered where the map would place me, since I have lived all over the US. Fritz has also lived in vastly different parts of the US; and he's not a native speaker; AND he learned British English in school. In terms of places where we've ACTUALLY lived, both our dialect maps had strong strong similarities with Colorado even though neither of us are from Colorado and we have only lived here 5 years. Then I took the quiz several more times and discovered it changes depending on how you answer the questions AND that I could manipulate the outcome predictably if I tried.
We're language chameleons, I suppose.
It makes me wonder how much I am subconsciously changing my language (or dialect) in my daily interactions.
After I got off the phone, Fritz commented on how my language had changed while I talked to my mother. "I had no idea what you were talking about, " Fritz said. Most notably, I had used brand names rather than generic names to talk about medication. A similar conversation between Fritz and I would have used generic names.
It's interesting the way that language can change depending on the context. Our household is an extreme example, with two different languages (English and German) being spoken. But it doesn't take entirely different languages to constitute a change in the language we use. I think we all alter our language based on the context and the people. Fritz can become almost indecipherable to me (even though I speak German) when he is around his family and slips into their own set of dialectic preferences.
Recently there was this quiz in the New York Times that maps your own personal use of American English dialects (and accents, I'd say) graphically on a map of the US. (It's super cool, you should try it.) Both Fritz and I did the quiz. I really wondered where the map would place me, since I have lived all over the US. Fritz has also lived in vastly different parts of the US; and he's not a native speaker; AND he learned British English in school. In terms of places where we've ACTUALLY lived, both our dialect maps had strong strong similarities with Colorado even though neither of us are from Colorado and we have only lived here 5 years. Then I took the quiz several more times and discovered it changes depending on how you answer the questions AND that I could manipulate the outcome predictably if I tried.
We're language chameleons, I suppose.
 |
| I added stars to show where I've actually lived. The city names in the Mid Atlantic States are supposedly the places to which my dialect is most similar (but I never lived in any of them). |
It makes me wonder how much I am subconsciously changing my language (or dialect) in my daily interactions.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Dialing
The Denver Public Library has a phone number for kids which you can call and listen to a story. They have stories for kids of different ages at different extensions. It changes weekly. There's something sweetly retro about it.
It actually reminds me of when I was Noah's age and I discovered the Time and Temperature Phone Number. I'm not sure if every town had one, but in my hometown, you could call a number and a machine told the exact time and temperature. I thought it was great. I must have called that number hundreds of times. I don't actually remember the temperature part so much. But I do remember this:
"At the sound of the beep, the time will be 8:01 am. BEEP."
It actually reminds me of when I was Noah's age and I discovered the Time and Temperature Phone Number. I'm not sure if every town had one, but in my hometown, you could call a number and a machine told the exact time and temperature. I thought it was great. I must have called that number hundreds of times. I don't actually remember the temperature part so much. But I do remember this:
"At the sound of the beep, the time will be 8:01 am. BEEP."
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