I hereby vocitate . . .

I have gotten used to being a Mom of two. Which must be the reason why I adopted two instead of one word, when I went to Save the words.

I starrify* (meaning to decorate with stars) Mommy Knows for this cool idea. Ink, consider yourself starrified as well for your contribution to this fun cause of adopting these poor, dictionary-rejected words. Let me warn all others though, before you get all excited/butt-psyched* and Pitt-Joliefied to go adopting - it is a little freaky. When the words call out, 'Hey!' 'Over here' and 'Pick me!' it is difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

But once I did concentrate, I liked vocitate which means to name, or call. She sounded and looked strong yet lovable. So, I adopted her. Then as I was ready to leave the site, I stumbled upon ictuate. It gave me an itchy feeling. And on looking up its meaning, I found out why. It means to repeat, often excessively. I had to adopt ictuate. It reminded me of the itch I get in my hands to pull my hair, and the itch in my throat to scream when Thing 1 repeatedly kicks on the boingy door stopper for instance. Or when she keeps asking for something I've told her she cannot have, repeatedly. Icuate was born for me to adopt. It kept calling me ictuatedly- I had to adopt her. But I don't like her very much.

I like vocitate. I can use it to give names to the writers and blogs I like. For instance:

I hereby vocitate badmommymoments the most fun-teresting or even fun-terest-ic mom blog.

I hereby vocitate Kathy B of the world according to me the Coolest Mom.

I hereby vocitate Lost in subarban Bliss the GPS for moms.

And so on.

I can have a button made like a certificate, and give it to the blogs, or posts I like. I need to find someone to make me a button.

And Ink, lets have a play date for vocitate and starrify. Ictuate won't go. She is grounded.

To take part in this cause:

1. Go to Save the Words.
2. Announce your word and its meaning on your blog. Use it as often as possible for the rest of your blogging life!
3. Link back to the person/blogger who memed you, and use their word in your post.
4. Choose 6 bloggers to tag and announce them in your blog.

starrify* (Ink's word), butt-psyched (ck's word)

Quote of the Day- March 12th '09

Don't keep saying everything. . . everyday.


Said by: Thing 1, between sobs and tears.

Said to: Mom. Mama. ME.

Said why: She kicks the door stopper. (You know, those annoying things on the walls behind doors that go 'boingggg' for a long time after you have touched them?) She kicks it three or four times. She knows it annoys me.

I tell her not to do it.

She kicks a fifth time.

'Don't do it...(with her eyes on me, and a faint smile on her lips, kicks yet again) ...again.'

I stare speechless for a second.

Then I start explaining how what she did was wrong on so many levels.

Said when: As soon as I start my explanation.

(Ask, and I can post a picture of a door stopper. I wish I could post an audio clip though.)

Why?

To A aka Thing 1:

Why would you paint on the wall with your pink cupcake?

Why would you paint your toenails red sitting on the couch?

Why would you apply very berry nail color to my new and favorite yellow purse?

Why would you put lotion on your head?

Why would you do this ten minutes after I give you a shower, and right before we have to leave for a party?

Why would you cut your new corduroy pants at the ankle?

Why would you do this at a friend's place, and right before we have to leave for another party?

Why would you insist on giving me a pretend facial, right after searching for God-knows-what inside your nose?

Why would you insist on drinking the dirty bath water?

Why would you think that I don't see you doing it?

To Z aka Thing 2:

Why would you stand in front of the TV when big sis is watching her cartoon?

Why would you turn it off when its her favorite cartoon?

Why would you throw big sis little truck in the toilet?

Why would you try to get it out of there?

Why would you reach right for your dirty butt when I'm trying to change your diaper?

Why would you touch your face, my face and everything else before I get a chance to clean your hands?

Why would you insist on feeding me a cheerio covered in spaghetti sauce?

Why would I eat it just to see your smile?

To A and Z:

Why would you look as innocent as when I first saw you at the hospital, when you sleep?

Why would I forget everything crazy (or to drive me crazy) that you have done today, when I watch you sleeping tonight?