What NOT to do when attempting the word challenge:

1)? Do not pronounce the word with all the clarity of someone who just downed a pitcher of Everclear martinis.? People will look at you like you’ve been smoking crack in a closet for the past five years.

2)? Do not be foolish enough to choose two words if you are easily confused.? Uttering “callipygian” at the grocery store probably isn’t wise, as I’m fairly certain even the? most well-shaped? watermelons do not have buttocks.

3)? Do not forget your words, and thus mangle them into some kind of non-existent hybrid-word.? For example, “Brobdingnagian” and “callipygian” are difficult enough by themselves.? Creating “Brobipygian” is not only completely unnecessary, but makes you sound like you just immigrated from Mars.? And the cashier at the pet food store will stare at you.

So, in the interest of maintaining? a few remaining shreds of dignity, I’m going to practice? my words a? couple thousand times before breaking them out in public again.

Apropros of nothing, here are some? photos my hubby took over the weekend:

Believe it or not, I was there first.? Apparently, the only good spot can be obtained by squishing in-between me and the side of the couch.

I suppose the other couch was toxic or something, because notice how many hound dogs are on it:

Guess who finally moved?? Worthless Ridgebacks.? Oh, so sorry to have disturbed you, Skye…….

I have a confession to make.? Being semi-new to the blogosphere, I’m not 100% certain what a “meme” is.? Or, for that matter, how to pronounce it.? Hubby says he thinks it’s pronounced “meem”.? ? But it could be? “Mee Mee”, or “May May”, for all I know.? Hopefully, somebody will enlighten me soon.?

From what I can gather,? a meme? is sort of like? a bloggers’ chain letter, only way cooler.? And less annoying.? Bascially, its an idea that spreads from blog to blog, in hopes of keeping us all entertained.?

So, in the interest of being a team player, I’ve decided to start my own chain.? For all you Miss Manners bloggers out there, I apologize in advance if I am performing some gi-normous meme-related faux pas.? I plead complete ignorance.? And the 5th, if that helps.

My idea is pretty simple.? See,? I love being a stay-at-home-mom.? Really, I do.? But there are? days when I can actually feel my brain shrinking inside my skull, and times when I can literally see the redundant gray matter bits flying out of my ears, no doubt in search of a more? stimulating environment.? I mean, my kids are wonderful and amazing, and of course,? as Rule Number One in the Mom Handbook dictates, I believe them to? be the most? highly intelligent children on the planet.? However, I’ve been rudely awakened to the fact that even the most? clever four year-olds? enjoy conversing with appalling frequency on topics like? human feces, flatulence, and the private parts, or lack thereof, of Thomas the tank engine.

So, in an effort to? inflate my? gray matter? back to its original dimensions, I’ve come up with something I hope will be a little more intellectually-stimulating than, say, blowing? tooting noises on my arm.? Yes, I’ve set the bar that high.

My idea?? Well, it all comes back to memes.? I realized that I’d seen the word “meme” on multiple occasions, but never bothered to ascertain its true definition.? In? my pre-kid era, I used to mark any rogue words I’d happen upon in books, then hunt down their meaning with the? determination of a…well…hunter.? (At this point, I feel obligated to mention I imbibed a? couple too many margaritas last night. ? Which is to say I had one.)? Nowadays?? I simply ignore the offending letters,? hoping, I suppose, ? that? one day? the? definition will be prominently featured in an episode of Blue’s Clue’s.? And it’s hopeless, really, because all I can think about when I watch that particular cartoon is, “Gee,? I wonder how often? Steve (or Joe) washes that? hideous shirt?? Is he trying to teach my son to be slovenly?? ? And, for that matter,? can? the creators really hate fashion that much?”? And then I digress into thoughts of what might happen if Steve hooked up with Stacey and Clinton from “What Not to Wear”, and how it? would make for? a ridiculously short episode, because? there are only so? many ways you can examine one shirt in a 3-way mirror, and by then, even if Blue was screaming “Tumescent!” at the top of his lungs while running naked through the streets, I wouldn’t notice.? Although, come to think of it, Blue’s always naked.? ? Which is a valid choice when considering poor Steve’s wardrobe.

So, with no plausible chance at reclaiming my brain via Blue’s Clues, I figured I’d have to try something else to regenerate my neurons.? Thus, my Word Quest begins…?

How it works:

First, I’ll pick a word that baffles? me? or that? I’ve absolutely never heard before in conversation, and? make it? my? slave? For the next few days, I’ll take that word, one that has nothing to do with excrement or wee wees, thank you very much, and use it routinely when out and about.? I can whip it out at the grocery check-out line.? Insert it casually into some playgroup gossip.? Impress that snooty preschool parent (although snooty really doesn’t fly at the world’s cheapest preschool).? Even throw it out there at the BlogHer mixer (or at least I? could have, had “Procrastination” not been my middle name).? ? Basically,? I’ll keep using? my word? until I’ve completely tamed it into submission.? Then, on? my blog,? I’ll give the definition, use it in a sentence, and then post about any random reactions? I got from friends and strangers when uttering it.? And I’m tagging five other bloggers to do the same.? Once? they’ve finished posting, they’ll tag five more, and so on.

I figure even if? I’m lazy and apathetic,? I’ll learn one new word.? And if? I’m feeling especially? motivated?? Heck, I can read the blogs of my tag-ees, and oversaturate my poor brain with even more brand spankin’ new wordage.? And just think–we’re upping the vocabulary ante for bloggers and readers alike.? We can all grow our brains together in one huge collaborative effort, and save? ourselves from the insidious, mind-melting? effects of neglect.? And sleep deprivation.? And never, ever? reading any books with words over one syllable.

So, I’ll? include a list of words below, just in case you’re feeling stymied (see that?? I’m getting in the mood already).? But feel free to find your own.? Ultimately, its your brain at stake, and therefore, your choice.

Here are my tag-ees:

Swistle? ? ? ? ? ? ? Moo? ? ? ? ? ? IdentityMixed? ? ? ? ? ? WannabeHippie? ? ? ? ? ? ? Playful Professional? ? ? ? ? ? Stimey

(Note:? In case you’re wondering, yes, I can count to six.? Even with one margarita in me.? I listed one extra above because Playful Professional may? be on a blog hiatus for awhile)?

And, by the way—if you’ve been tagged, it basically means one of two things:? 1) from what I’ve gathered from your blog posts,? it seems? like you might enjoy? some mental exercise, or, 2) from what I’ve gathered from your blog posts, it seems like even if you think this is the mother of all stupid ideas, you might take pity on me.? ? Oh, and there’s the third cateogry as well, in which I shamelessly remind you how I fostered and cared for your poor homeless rescue dog before she went to live with you forever, so now, you should feel sufficiently indebted to me to do this bloggy thing.? (And in case that wasn’t pointed enough, yes, IdentityMixed, I am guilting persuading? you into participating!)

Here’s a list of a few words? I found in? my search:?

abrogate, obdurate, lachrymose, crepuscular, blunderbuss, soporific, rapacious, boreal, pelagic, clathrate, rapprochement, hegemony, gyre, apostate, manse, misoneism, tohubohu, nocebo, acritochromacy,

? And here’s a great Word-A-Day resource to look up your own.

One word I considered from the above website was “coprolite”, which is basically a fossilized terd.? Then, I remembered my vow to shun all things poopy and their derivatives, so I continued my search.

And finally settled on two words.? Yes, I know I was supposed to pick just one, but being the indecisive person that I am, that really wasn’t in the cards.? And just as a tantalizer, I’ll give you the words, Brobdingnagian and callipygian.? And the fact that they have to do with size and bottoms.?

And now, only time will tell if I’ll be able to use them in public without snorting iced tea out my nose.? I suppose so long as it isn’t brain cells, I’ll be making an immense improvement……..

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Moms complain incessantly? about the sneaky, manipulative and, well, hormonal ways of their teenagers (to put it quaintly).? And I’m sure teens come with a bevy of tricks up their sleeves.? I get that.

What? I don’t get, however,? is why those same mamas? don’t tell you this behavior can start much, much earlier—say, at age two?? Okay, so maybe not so much the hormonal behavior? (thank goodness!), but the sneakiness?? Most definitely.

I mean, I’m not one of those moms with her head? buried? in the sand? about her kids.? (Although, my son buries his own head in the sand—frequently.? So if you see him, no, that’s not dandruff).? I? own the peculiarities and challenges that? comprise my little mop-headed, opinionated, over-thinking? four year-old.? Hey, that was me standing in line at Barnes and Noble several years ago, clutching a towering stack of parenting books before my son even deigned to toddle.? Books with titles like “Parenting a Spirited Child”, and “How to Set Limits for Your Strong-Willed Child”.? ? And “How? to Keep Your Royal Pain? in the? Butt Kid? from? Driving? You? to Imbibe Massive Quantities of Alcohol and Smash Your Head and His onto a Very Hard Stone Surface on an Hourly? Basis.”? Okay, so maybe that last one? only existed in my brain.? ? But had? that title? been available for purchase, you can be 100% certain it would be keeping the other? manuals company on our bookshelf right now.

Still, there is no book on earth that prepares you for all the intricate nuances of parenting.? ? Or the minutiae of kids’ brains.? I mean, some children are just born thinkers.? And reasoners.? And lest you start thinking this is a wonderful thing, let me share a little story with you.

We call it “Connor and the Peanut Butter Cup”

Just before his third birthday, Connor is heading back home with hubby from some kind of male bonding experience, which, given my son’s utter enthrallment with trains at that time, undoubtedly consisted of the manly pursuit of visiting the hobby store and? fondling all the Thomas the tank engines.? For hours.? On the way home, hubby stops at the corner gas station for a drink, and of course, Connor asks for a mini Reese’s peanut butter cup (trust me–this is the lesser of many, many sugary evils that hubby exposed Connor to periodically at that same store).? ? Demonstrating? uncharacteristic restraint, hubby says, “You can only have one, and then we’ll bring another one home to mommy.”

So, moments after climbing into his car seat, Connor’s peanut butter cup vanishes, destined for a quick but fatal trip to Tummy Town.? And about a millisecond elapses before he’s demanding mine.? Hubby tells him, no, that one’s for mommy—you ate yours already.

Connor thinks for a moment, then says innocently, “Can I just hold it for mommy?”

Now, my hubby knows our son by now as well, so he’s immediately suspicious.? “You can’t eat it–it’s for mommy,” he reiterates.

Connor smiles again–”I know.? I just want to hold it for mommy, so I can give it to her when we get home.”

Melting under the radiant innocence of my son’s beatific grin, hubby caves and hands over? the peanut butter cup.? A few seconds later he hears, “Daddy, maybe I can just unwrap it and look at it for mommy.”

Hubby, who clearly did not read the “Setting Limits for Your Strong-Willed Child” book referenced above, says something to the effect of “Oh, that’s not a good idea.”? ? Basically, this kind of wishy-washy talk is like an open invitation to sin for spirited children.? Which means the wrapper? flies off said chocolate treat faster than the pants off a whore.? Then—”Daddy, this peanut butter cup’s broken.? ? Maybe I’ll? just eat this edge off, so it still looks pretty.”

By the time “No!” flies from my? sucker’s, I mean hubby’s,? mouth, it’s? too late.? The edge is gone.

? A? few moments later, “Daddy, it’s too small for mommy now.? I’m just gonna eat it all, and we can get her a new one later.”

Needless to say, I did not enjoy a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup that day.

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