Can You Spell that Please?

So, it's no secret that my last name is a little unusual and can be a bit difficult to spell. Heck, I didn't even realize the correct spelling until Scott and I headed to Sherry Swenson's office. That should be a prerequisite for marriage. But the misspellings abound. Here are just a few:

Garring

Garing

Gerring

Gerhing (Most common and how I spelled it for a year of dating.)

Gerrying

Herring

Geuirring (My favorite and most recent.)

Gary

Garhing

Gearing

I have a friend that I babysit for and she writes Nicole G or just Nicole on the check. I can't complain. I have a friend that I write as M*scribblescribble* when in reality it's Mugleston. (And yes, I had to look that up.)

When businesses ask for my last name, I don't even say it, I just immediately spell it. The conversation usually goes something like this...

Them: Name?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: G E R R I N G?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: Oh, G E R I N G

Me: No, there's an H in there. (a little louder and staccato)

G E H! R I N G

Them: Sorry, I got it. G H E R I N G

Me: No. (still a little louder)G E H!! R I N G

Them: I'm sorry what?

Me: G-E-H-R-I-N-G

Them: G E H R I N G

Me: Yes, that's right. I get it all the time.

The doctor's office is always fun...

Them: Who are we seeing today?

Me: Hunter Gehring

(long pause)

Them: I'm sorry, I don't see Hunter Gary on here.

Me: No, Gehring. G E H R I N G

Them: G E?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: Oh, there it is. (With no attempt to try and pronounce it.)

Oh, on a side note, on our paperwork, they have my last name correct, but not Scott's. I have given up on getting them to fix it. Our mail always comes to the right place.

I have to say though, I don't think that any of us actually pronounce it correctly. Obviously, it's German and I think it is pronounced Gear-ing. We all say it more like Gar-ing. My in-laws never give their name when going out to eat. It made me laugh the first time.

Host: Name?

Father-in-law: Miller

Me: What?

I learn quickly. Although, I just say Scott. Which by the way has two T's, not one. And my name does not have an H. And Stevens is spelled with a V, not a PH. But I digress.

I have also learned that you don't have to have a strange name to have these kinds of issues. My aunt's married name is Hill. She tells funny stories of having to spell and pronounce it repeatedly.

I have to say that the funniest story came from a coworker/friend from Provo. The complex we lived in put the tenants name in a small display directly above the doorbell. Mind you, I had worked with her for some time and she had seen my name many times even if she didn't know how to pronounce it. The first time she came over, she didn't even get out a "Hi" before this happened:

Jules: What is that over your doorbell?

Me: (very confused) My last name?

Jules: Oh, I thought it was directions.

Me: What? (confusion mounting)

Jules: Yeah, it's by the doorbell. You know, gerrring! gerrring!

Me: Like the sound of it ringing?

Jules: (Now feeling very dumb and sheepish) Yeah.

My friend Michele M*scribblescribble* and I laughed harder than I thought possible. I don't think Jules appreciated it. We weren't the best of friends after that.

As a kid I always wanted a more interesting name than Stevens. I guess I got it.

Sigh.

Guilty Pleasures

We all have them. Things we do when we think no one is looking. Or things we just can't live without. I have many of these, and I know you do, too!!! Don't deny it. Care to know a few of mine? Well, too bad, I'll tell you anyway.

The first, I am sure many of you know already.

I know what you're thinking....Big deal. Not to me. I am obsessed. Which is strange because I come from a strictly Coke family. Now I would never turn down a Coke if offered, but if I had the choice, HANDS DOWN, I would choose Pepsi. Or as I call it, holy nectar of the gods. What is embarrassing is how much nectar I actually drink. I'm not sure I would like to share this part with you. What I will tell you is that it's usually the first thing I drink everyday and always the last. And it's not hard to find me carrying around a vat of it from the gas station. Yep, I am one of those. One hand holding a four year old's hand, an arm through the car seat holding said vat at the end of it. I've been known to slap the counter when it's an exceptionally good one. I know, I know, it's bad for me. The pH is difficult for my body to process, the artificial sugars cause cancer, yada yada yada. I don't care. If it kills me, what a way to go.

Second, semi-sweet chocolate chips.

I buy them by the pound in the bulk section at Winco. I have many handfuls throughout the day. They also pair very well with my nectar and are usually the last thing I eat everyday. I am sure all the ladies out there completely relate to this one and all the men don't understand or care, so I'll leave it at that.

Next up, Days of our Lives.

This one I know you are all judging me on. That's OK, I forgive you. Now go check out how awesome this show is! I started watching it back in the day, about 14 years ago (BTW, when did I get old enough to say 14 years ago?) in the 7th grade. School got out at 2:50 and I would beat it for home and only miss the first ten minutes at most. I loved it. I thought Austin was oh so dreamy and he and Karie belonged together. Alas, by the 8th grade, it's time slot was moved to 2:00 and the love affair died. Fast forward a decade and Scott and I no longer have satellite. We now have a digital antenna and only get locals. So your daytime choices are soap operas or a courtroom drama. I tried to ignore it. Channel surfing through our six channels over and over, but I gave in and started watching again. What's funny is Scott enjoys it, too! (Don't tell him I told you this.) I hid it from him for a long time, but when Monday became Saturday for him, he caught me in my indulgence. Who wouldn't love a felon who gets plastic surgery to pose as an FBI agent to break up his marriage so a mobster can regain full custody of his kids? Or a woman falling in love with a man who stole her necklace to pay the PI to investigate his sister's death in a hit and run, who was best friends with fore mentioned woman, who was hit while investigating the attempted murder of the mobster because she felt indebted to him because he was her defense lawyer when she was framed for the Salem muggings which were actually committed by a PD detective while sleep walking? "That's good TV." right? (A quote from Friends, another great show, regarding Days of our Lives.) OK, you all think I'm crazy, but I am alright with that. I'll own it.

I could go on to tell you about how much I love coupons, craft blogs, and red peppers. But that wore me out. Maybe another day. Do you dare air your dirty laundry??

Eenie, Meenie, Meinie, Moe

Houston, TX

Dallas, TX

Torrance, CA

Morristown, NJ

King of Prussia, PA

Seattle, WA

Scottsdale, AZ

Wacker, IL

Washington D.C.

Ft. Lauderdale, FL

Buckhead, GA

Charlette, NC

Park Ave, NY

Palo Alto, CA

Any thoughts on these places? Good, bad, ugly? Run far, far away?

Telephone

Me: Hunter, ask Daddy to smooth down the back of your hair.

Hunter: Daddy, you need to sweep up the backyard.

What?

Hearts, Stars, Horseshoes, Clovers and Blue Moons!

We had a fabulous St. Paddy's Day. This included good food, friends, and a new garbage disposal. As you can see, we had one of my favorites...breakfast for dinner. Rainbow pancakes and green eggs. One of my guests suggested that the eggs could have been the gold at they end of the rainbow. True, but how often do you get to eat green eggs? It was deeelish.

I also made party favors for my guests. FYI, spray paint doesn't stick to Terra Cotta very well. I wrapped the licorice in plastic wrap and added some gold. Cute eh?
I really should have gotten some pics of our friends with their lovely treats. Ooops.

On the side note, our garbage disposal's motor was burned out. They also found a rusty pipe and that the sink wasn't attached. Nice. Gotta love a rental. Really lovin' that we didn't pay for it.

Haddy Paddy everyone!!!

March Madness

The legs are shaved, the shorts are dusted off, tissues and decongestants are put away...and then the madness sets in. Just when you think the coast is clear, it gets you. You end up wishing your warm woolly blanket was back on your bed. March plays a cruel game and every year, we fall for it. It drives me truly mad! We need the warm weather. I need to defrost. I absolutely refuse to to get my heavy coat back out. I guess I'll settle for a cardigan. Bah!

Please excuse my segmented sentences and general rambling. I think it's the madness setting in.

In this Moment

I smell the onions and peppers I'm cooking for fajita burritos.

I see Coop kicking his feet while sitting in his bouncy seat at my feet.

I have the evening sunlight reflecting off my computer screen and its warmth on my back.

I hear the evening news rambling on about the dire conditions of our world.

I know Coop is trying and succeeding at getting my attention with his cooing.

I have a hip high boy asking for hugs.

I am brushing the crumbs off my socks from a floor that is desperately needing to be swept.

I have bangs hanging in my eyes that would benefit from a bobby pin.

I am aware of trucks rumbling by and the neighbors dog barking.

I am content and enjoying every bit of it.

Catch you later dire world, time to sit with my family and have a diet Pepsi.

Scrooge

Or maybe overprotective?

My boys are growing up fast. TOO fast. I don't like it. I wish I could keep them 4 years and 4 months for a little while longer. Who knows how many kiddos I will get to have? So what's a mama to do?

I think there are appropriate ages for most activities. There are the obvious ones like no driving or having a job until 16. And those that are a little more subjective, you know, shaving legs and mascara wait until you're 12. Granted I won't need to worry about those. I will be facing the issue of forcing them to bathe and use deodorant. But the issue of the moment is... wait for it.... sleepovers.

Sleepovers? Really? Isn't it a little early to be having this conversation?

Maybe it's those darn growth hormones, they're speeding everything up. OK, maybe not. But I'll say it again. REALLY?

I will also restate this: HE IS FOUR!

Are the caps too much? I'm feeling slightly passionate. Unfortunately, it often comes off as just mad. I'll stop. REALLY! :D

Back to the problem at hand.

He's four. Four and four months. Not like four and eleven months, or I don't know.... ten. Now, I am not sure that ten is the magically appropriate age for sleepovers, but it seems a little better than four. Obviously, I feel the need to keep him safe. I don't think that a four year old is capable of this on pretty much any level in my absence or maybe even in my presence. He enjoys such past times as licking all manner of germ infested things, leaning against precarious furniture, poking others in the eye, etc etc etc.

The world is a very different place than it was twenty years ago. I don't think we need to go into such things, but do think they need to be considered. And until we can have conversations to address these numerous unnamed issues to create understanding, it's just not happening. So if that qualifies me as a Scrooge or overprotective, then I am ok with that label.

So are you as Scrooge-like as I am? Feel the need to rebuke me? Maybe slap me into reality? Click and let me know what you think.

Happy parenting!