Whose Bright Idea Was This?

Frequently, when I am wading through the complexities of English grammar with my students, I'm struck by the question, "Whose idea was this?" Don't misunderstand. I love this language dearly, so much so that I chose it as my major area of study in college, and I choose to teach it even today. Still, some of its grammatical components seem pretty ridiculous.

For example, yesterday, I was trying to explain to my students the correct usage of apostrophes to show possession. They generally do fine with apostrophes in contractions (and we try to avoid contractions for the most part anyway); possession is the tricky part. And why is it so tricky? Because of a handful of irregular plural nouns. Typically, how do we know where to place the apostrophe in a noun to indicate possession? It depends on whether the noun is singular or plural, right? Yes, almost always. In singular possessive nouns, the apostrophe goes inside the 's,' and in plural possessive nouns, the apostrophe goes outside:

"The girl's bike" means ONE girl.
"The girls' bikes" means more than one girl.

Simple.

EXCEPT.

There are a handful of nouns that are irregular (and I mean ridiculously irregular) in the way they form their plurals, and they happen to be some of the commonest nouns in the English language: man, woman, child, person.

One man, but two.....men. One child, but two....children. One person, but two.....people.

And this is the stupidest one of all: One woman, but two....women? Whose bright idea was this? We change the pronunciation of the first syllable, but not the spelling. And then we change the spelling of the second syllable, but not the pronunciation. How utterly insane. Can you imagine being a foreign student and trying to figure this one out?

It would be so much easier just to say "two mans, two womans, two childs, and two persons." And if I were grammar queen, that's exactly how it would be.

As for possession, because these words (men, women, children, and people) are already plural without an 's', the apostrophe goes inside the 's' when they become possessive. Sorry! I know it's confusing. My students think so too.

Then there's the issue of pronoun agreement. English, lovely language though it is, does not have a singular pronoun to replace nouns of non-specific gender. Take a sentence such as this:

If a person works hard, ________________ will do well.

How do we fill in the blank? Once upon a time, we were taught to use the pronoun "he" and to understand that it was a universal pronoun that could refer to both males and females. Not anymore. We now recognize that using "he" to refer to all people is inherently sexist because, well, "he" means a male.

So what do we do? It's a tough question, actually. Sadly, and I do mean sadly, folks over the years have begun to use the word "they" to fill in the above blank. I can't really blame them. They need to put something in there, and our language does not give us a word that works. However, "they" is positively and unequivocally incorrect. Why is it incorrect? Pronouns need to agree in number with their antecedents, meaning the nouns they replace. "Person" is singular, and "they" is plural.

One idea is to use both male and female singular pronouns "he or she" or even "he/she" (although that one always sounds a bit violent). And those work okay grammatically but can be obnoxiously annoying when used over and over: "If a person works hard, he or she will do well, and he or she will be happy with his or her life and proud of himself or herself for all his or her hard work." Okay, you get it.

My suggestion? Whenever possible, go plural. Make the antecedent plural: "If people work hard, they will do well." That way, you have a grammatically correct sentence that is also pleasant to read.

How did I get carried away with this rant? Hmmm. Not sure. I was just discussing these issues with my students, so they were on my mind. English is a lovely language, yes, but it's also challenging. So next time you're feeling unsure about a grammar issue, remember it's okay to ask...

Whose bright idea was this?

No More Whining!

Okay, this is it. No more whining over my kids being away. I was thinking I might risk losing all you lovely readers if I keep this up any longer; who wants to read a depressing, whiny blog day after day? Instead, let's try to have a good day filled gratitude for our blessings and hope for the unexpected miracles to come.

There is so much to be thankful for today....

1. Beautiful rain yesterday morning. Yes, it stopped. Yes, the sun is out again today. But, really, you should have been here. It was positively lovely yesterday morning.

2. Laughter, as Shulamith, Matt, and I sat through two incredibly awful movies: "Love Happens," which was awful enough, then "All About Steve," which was far worse. (Shulamith.... next time, Matt and I are picking the movie. Seriously.)

3. The season premier of "House," which is tonight for two whole hours! And Gerald is even home to watch it with me (which rarely happens on a weeknight). He is SO excited. Ha!

4. The season premier of "Grey's Anatomy" which is Thursday night. (Shulamith gets to watch this on her brand new flat screen TV. Am I jealous? A little.)

5. My best friend who lives right across the street, and who knew how difficult yesterday would be for me, so she texted in the evening to ask how I was. Thanks, Linds.

6. My other best friend, with whom I just finished a delightful text conversation. Twenty years ago, this would not have been possible considering she is in Texas. It would have required an expensive phone call.

7. Tickets purchased to Indiana, so Shulamith and I can visit Luke next month.

8. Eli, who with the youth choir, sang so beautifully yesterday at Stake Conference that people were fighting back tears.

9. Fun students, who did a splendid job with their very first attempt at sentence analysis. I would tell them congratulations, except I'm pretty sure none of them reads this blog. Still, they are a blessing to me!

10. Seth, who is already talking about a Halloween costume, which reminds me that the holidays are right around the corner. Hooray!

11. Dinner with a good friend tomorrow evening. We call it "dinner therapy" because that's how good it is for both of us.

12. A plethora of other blessings, far to numerous to name or to remember, but 12 is a nice number and a good stopping place.

So there. I did it. No whining at all. And I'm not even crying, at least for the moment. Cheers!

Wimp Mom

I admit it. I am a wimp mom. If you were to look up the term "wimp mom" in the dictionary, the definition would certainly read, "Terrianne Webster." But really, when you think about, it's just hard not to be wimpy when your children grow up and begin to leave home. Gerald often speculates that if our children had caused us a little more trouble while growing up, it would be easier for me to let them go. I don't know about that, but it sure isn't easy. I've thought on occasion that when you're in the hospital delivering your baby, the medical staff should warn you then. They should say something like, "Here's your baby. But don't get too attached to him." But do they do that? No. Do they stop and tell you that you will love and serve this little person for eighteen years and that in doing so, you will care so much for him that you would gladly throw yourself in front of a moving train to save him? Do they tell you that your capacity to love another human being will grow exponentially to a point you never thought possible? Do they tell you that eighteen years will pass so quickly that you will stand in utter awe? Do they tell you how empty your house will feel each time another child leaves?

No.

They don't tell you any of these things. You're left to figure it all out for yourself, year by year, child by child, tear by tear.

Last evening, as I was chatting with Isaiah on Facebook while talking to Luke on one phone and texting Shulamith on another, I was overcome with gratitude for the fact that these three kids, currently living away from home, want to keep close contact. I'm still a wimp, but I'm a lucky wimp.

And that brings me to my next point. About the only thing I can think of that is good about children moving away from home is the incredible excitement you feel when a visit is forthcoming. And that's how I feel today. What a rush! At about 2:30, when she finishes teaching, Shulamith and her friend Matt will get in the car and make the 9-hour drive home to Billings. Can I tell you I'm just a little bit excited about this??? They are willing to make the long drive this month, so I don't have to buy yet another airline ticket. I am grateful to both of them. Just about 12 hours from this very moment, they will be here! Next month, instead of me going to Utah (as I have the past five Octobers), Shulamith and I will fly to Indianapolis to visit Luke. Then, in November, all three "away" kids will come home, and the seven of us will be together for Thanksgiving. I don't mean to rush the days away, but doesn't that pretty much sound like Heaven?

Okay, so in writing this, I've just experienced a very wimpy moment, overcome with tears. That happens a lot. I guess it goes along with being a wimp mom.

New Friends

The other day, I was making brownies to go with dinner, and Seth walked in. The following conversation occurred:

Seth: Are the missionaries coming for dinner?

Me: No. Why do you ask?

Seth: Because the only time you make good food that isn't low fat is when the missionaries come over.

Me: Well, they're not coming today. These brownies are just for us.

Seth: By the way, is your book group coming over any time soon? There's always delicious food here when your book group comes over.

Me: Our turn to host book group will be in November.

Seth: November? That will take forever. Oh, I know! You need to have a baby shower.

Me: What?

Seth: Because the best food ever is when you have baby showers here.

(Note: My two closest friends had babies about a year go. Celeste's daughter Molly turned one in July, and Lindsey's daughter Hanna will be one next month. I hosted both their baby showers over a year ago. Evidently, Seth still remembers.)

Me: I'm not planning to throw any more baby showers for quite a while.

Seth: Why not?

Me: Because my friends already had their babies, and it will be a while before either of them has another one.

Seth: Then you need to get some new friends.

Lying

I've been pondering lately the subject of lying. What does it mean to tell a lie. Seth, being nine years old and right smack in the middle of what Piaget calls the Concrete Operational Stage of development, understands lying to be whenever someone tells him something will happen and then it doesn't. I've tried to explain to him that it's not really lying if the intent of the person was honest and sincere. Sometimes things just don't work out the way we think they will. For example, Seth needs new shoelaces. I told him Friday that we would get him some over the weekend. Then the weekend came and went, and we didn't get the shoelaces. We were immersed in so many things, most notably trying to get Seth moved into the bedroom upstairs and Eli moved into the bedroom downstairs, so we could restore what used to be our family room before Eli claimed it as his bedroom over three years ago. That project took much longer than I anticipated, and we're still not finished. You can't even imagine the magnitude of the mess we're dealing with. So yeah, no shoelaces.

Did I lie to Seth? He clearly thinks I did. In his perception of the world, people constantly promise him things that do not come to pass. And in his mind, that is lying. Eli promises to play a video game with him. Gerald promises to take him to the store. I promise to buy him shoelaces. Are we just a family full of liars? Obviously, I believe intent plays a role here, and clearly we don't set out to be dishonest or insincere.

However.

I, myself, am feeling very much like Seth these days as I deal with a particular car repair shop. Twelve days ago, I called this shop regarding our 1988 Mercury Sable. Yeah, I know. It's an old clunker which I made the mistake of purchasing two years ago for Isaiah to drive. It has had one problem after another ever since, most recently refusing to start. I let it sit dead in our driveway for the entire summer; I simply didn't have the energy or emotional strength to deal with it anymore, and when I'm not teaching, we can limp along with only one vehicle. Now that school has begun, though, we really need a second car. Eli needs to get to seminary in the morning, then to school, and then to work after school. I can't take him to these places when I'm clear on the West End at the College of Technology.

So twelve days ago, I called a car repair shop. They told me they would be glad to tow my car to their shop for $55 and diagnose it for another $49. Was I excited to pay $104, most likely to learn that the needed repairs far exceed the car's worth? No. Did I decide to do it anyway because we REALLY NEED additional transportation? Yes. The owner of the shop promised me they would look at the car the following morning and call me right away with the result.

That was twelve days ago. The first few days, I called them. I talked to the owner each time, and he assured me that they had been swamped all day but that the VERY NEXT DAY they would have time to look at my car. And they would absolutely call me right away. No call. Did the owner lie to me? Was his intention each time I talked to him to look at my car the very next day? I have no idea. I only know that I have basically given up. What's the point in calling if I'm going to get the same story, and nothing ever changes. I've even wondered if they have somehow lost my car and are afraid to tell me.

So Seth....I understand how you feel. I get it. And today I make a new and serious resolve to follow through with the things I tell you I'll do. Because no one likes to be lied to, even if the intentions were honorable. Let's go get those shoelaces today!

Back to School We Go!

Summer is over. Well, maybe not officially, but as far as we're concerned, once school begins, it's all over. Once again, six of the seven of us return to the academic life in one way or another. Let's take us one by one as we mark the beginning of the 2009-2010 academic year.

We'll start with the baby. He would have a fit and fall in it if he knew I wrote that, but as far as I know, he doesn't read this blog. And well, like it or not, he will always be my "baby." Seth began 4th grade last Tuesday, so just over a week ago. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, he's no longer in the primary wing, but instead he's rubbing shoulders with all those big 5th and 6th graders in the intermediate side of the building. After a week, Seth reports a good start to the year. He likes his teacher. I haven't met her yet, but she's already exchanged email with parents who provided their addresses, and she sent me a nice note saying Seth is off to a great start. His class uses a money system of reward. Students start off with $300, and they may earn money doing various things and then spend it as needed. Among other things, they must rent their desks. Seth was anxious for me to sign all his parent forms because he received $50 for each one I signed by the deadline. Am I crazy about a system that motivates children exclusively through extrinsic rewards? No. Would I prefer Seth to learn to do what he needs to do simply because it's important to meet our responsibilities, and we feel good when we do? Yes. Am I terribly worried about this? No. Seth seems happy, so I'm happy. In fact, these days, he's happier at school than he is at home. He's really missing his three siblings who are away (as am I), and the one who is home, is so involved in work, school, church, and an active social life, he is hardly ever around.

Speaking of Eli, he began his junior year in high school a week ago today. He's taking the required subjects, as well as Spanish, advanced choir, cooking, and P.E. as electives. Classes are good so far, he says. Early-morning seminary also started this week. His teacher is great, and he has a good group of friends who attend, but no matter how you slice it, 6:30 a.m. is just plain early. We're proud of him for making the effort to attend.

Isaiah, the graduate, has joined the "Let's all just move to Utah" contingency. He's a freshman at Westminster College, where Shulamith graduated a year ago. Everything we hear from him thus far is positive. He likes his roommate and the other people he's met, he likes his classes, he likes his job as a dorm monitor, and he likes Salt Lake City. Oh no, will I have a second child whom I can't get out of the state of Utah? We really may need to move there ourselves eventually. In the meantime, we're glad he's doing so well. It's a huge transition from high school to college, especially if you move away from home.

Shulamith tested children all last week and had her first day with her new kindergarten class yesterday. And it was good! You can't even know how great that was to hear. Last year, she spent her entire first day chasing one little boy out the front door because he decided to run away several times, and when she wasn't doing that, she was focused on trying to get one little girl to sit in a desk rather than jump around on the floor, pretending to be a horse. Yesterday was so much better. She says all 30 (!) kids (no I'm not kidding about that enrollment) are adorable and well behaved for the most part. Hooray! I can't wait to meet them next time I'm there.

Our psychologist to-be began his PhD program at Indiana University this week. He, too, reports a good start to the school year. He is learning so much already. I am amazed whenever I talk to him by how much he is learning, and it's all really interesting. I think Luke chose exactly the right field of study to suit his interests and abilities.

And I am back at MSU-Billings teaching five writing classes. We don't actually get students for another week, but I've been there periodically this week working on syllabi and planning. I should clarify my statement above: I'm teaching five FULL writing classes. Our enrollment is so high this semester that all my sections are full. So if you have any ideas how I might successfully navigate my way through 125 essays 6 - 8 times in the semester, I'm open to any and all suggestions. Wait. I take that back. No, Isaiah, I can't just "not give them any assignments."

So there you have it, our family's return to academia for the 2009-2010 year.

How Much is Too Much?

I love modern technology and the opportunity for communication it provides. I remember as a kid racing to the phone every time it rang, so I could be the one to answer. In those days with no Caller ID, you couldn't tell who was calling, but I didn't care. I still wanted to be the one to answer. I remember my joy when my parents first got an answering machine, and I no longer had to worry about calls I may have missed when I was away from home. Yes indeed, I love communication.

As the years passed and the world of technology increased exponentially, as a newly married couple, we were one of the first to have a computer in our home. I wasn't too impressed at first, until Gerald introduced me to the possibility of using it to communicate. Really? I could "talk" to people using my computer? Okay, I'm interested. This was before the World Wide Web or the internet as we know it today, but we were able to send messages back and forth with certain people who signed up for the same online service we did, in this case a company called GEnie. We could only use it at night or on weekends; during business hours, the folks at General Electric needed their mainframe computers for business purposes. It was a start, though, and it offered me an amazing new way to keep in touch with the people I love. I was immediately hooked.

To my delight, this was only the beginning. In the twenty years that followed, we have been blessed with countless other miracles: cell phones (I can talk to people when I'm not even home?!?), text messaging (I can send quick notes to people at any time without interrupting their daily lives?!?), the full-scale internet (I can email friends all over the world instantly, and get a response back within minutes?!?), instant messaging/live chat (I can have live conversations with people just by typing on my computer?!?), social networking sites (I can learn more about my friends and acquaintances than I ever imagined by reading their Facebook profiles and commenting on their statuses?!?), and blogging (I can write these blog essays and share my thoughts with as many of you as are interested in reading?!?).

THE WORLD IS MINE!

Seriously, this is all pretty much a dream come true for an extrovert like me. But the other night, I began to wonder, "How much is too much?"

With three of our children currently living away from home, I find myself inundated with communication in various forms. The other night, I was lying in my bed typing a "quick" email to Shulamith. My cell phone rang, and I began a conversation with my mom in Portland. Just then, Luke called on our home phone, so I quickly ended the conversation with my mom in order to talk to Luke. Right then, a text came in from Eli telling me what time he needed to be picked up from work. I quickly replied to Eli's text, all the while talking to Luke on our home phone and continuing my email to Shulamith. Next came a text from Gerald: "Isaiah's on Facebook right now. If you go on, you could chat with him." I immediately open Facebook and begin to chat with Isaiah. By now, I've said goodbye to Luke, and just as I flip back to my email to Shulamith, an email comes in from her: "Matt and I are headed out longboarding, so I'll have to write more later...as in tomorrow." Ack, even if I do get her email finished and sent, she won't even get it until tomorrow!

So how much is too much? My conclusion is there's never too much when it comes to communication with one's children. So Luke, Shulmaith, Isaiah, Eli.....if you're out there reading, keep 'em coming! Emails, phone calls, text messages, Facebook posts....it's all good. I love hearing from you. More than you can possibly know. I miss you, and I'm profoundly thankful for the miracle of modern communication, even if sometimes it's a bit overwhelming.