Author: Doser3

Making His Own Way

On By Doser3In Dreaming of Mommyhood - GeneralLeave a comment

Trying to catch the bubbles.
Trying to catch the bubbles.
So, I’ve been a little lazy where Henry is concerned. When I became a stay at home mom, Davey was 4 months old. I immediately dove into it, lined up programs at the library, met up with other SAHMs for play dates, and took him on as many “free” adventures as possible. I wanted to make sure that I was giving him as much social interaction as possible. Henry hasn’t exactly had that luxury.

Today, I decided to start up a new routine with Henry. I’m taking him to Bouncing Babies at our local library. My plan is to stick to it at least once a week, but if at all possible, get him there twice a week.

Making friends.
Making friends.

Bouncing Babies is a program geared for newborns to 18 month olds. It consists of stories, songs, nursery rhymes and free play with other children. Davey attended this the very first week I was a stay at home mom. I haven’t taken Henry because Davey’s attention span is no good for Bouncing Babies and he would just disrupt the whole thing. Plus, I’ve wanted Henry to have something that is his own, something away from his brother. And I must say, it’s been quite the enjoyable and eye opening experience for me.

Sharing with the others.
Sharing with the others.

Henry loves to move around and socialize, but he’s also more of a mama’s boy than Davey was. Davey never wanted to be with me, but Henry likes to climb back into my lap and just enjoy the class. He crawls and walks over to other babies and attempts to make friends, but in the end he’s always looking for me. It was so nice to see him be his own little man, to attempt to make his own friends. I don’t think I’ve “seen” Henry in this way before. I’ve always seen him as Davey’s little brother and really it saddens me that I didn’t do this sooner.

Huge fan of the balls.
Huge fan of the balls.

The experience was wonderful. He played. He laughed. He clapped his hands and climbed into the laps of other mothers. He shared his toys (something Davey NEVER did) and he became Henry Doser, adventurous and friendly little toddler. I need to do this more often.

He Has Your Imagination

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“This is my bus,” Davey replied as my mother and I sat on the swing with him and Henry.

“Your bus?” I asked.

“Yes, mama, my bus. It’s going to take me to Wal-Mart. I need to buy some apple sauce.”

My mother and I looked at each other exchanging questioning glances. We continued to swing as Davey sat tucked between the two of us on the bench style swing mounted in my parent’s backyard. It was all we had to do at that point since their pool had just been closed. I was unsure of what we would do at their house anymore, but Davey soon gave me no need to worry.

“Stop the bus,” Davey said.

My mother and I stretch out our legs, allowing our feet to touch the ground thus stopping the swing. Davey jumped down and asked me for some money. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the “money”, which was nothing more than air.

“Don’t forget to look both ways before crossing the street,” my mother said as Davey walked off.

We started the swing back up and watched as he walked to the edge of the concrete patio, looked both ways along the fake street before taking a left, walking around the swimming pool and to one of the concrete picnic tables. We continued to look at him as he spoke to some fictitious person at the table, before taking his applesauce and walking back over to us.

We stopped the bus and allowed Davey to climb back aboard. Over the course of the next half hour, this was how our afternoon progressed. Each stop consisted of a different store, with a different purchase, and additional money to come from me. I suppose I should get used to the asking for money part.

On one of his “stops”, my mother started talking to me.

“He has your imagination, you know?” she said as Henry nuzzled into her neck trying to steal a quick little cat nap.

“I had imagination?” I asked her.

“Oh yeah, you could create anything you wanted to when you were a child. The best part was spit cards,” she said with a laugh.

I knew that was to come up again. Apparently, spit cards were my greatest creation. They were nothing more than torn pieces of paper, which I in turn licked and stuck to the walls…spit cards!

“I hope he comes up with something like that,” she said to me as Davey climbed back aboard for another ride.

At least he has something of mine because this child is all his Daddy.

A Letter to My Daughter

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As I sit here typing up an email to both of my sons, I started thinking about what I would write in a letter to my daughter, if I had one. I know I would want the same basic things for her as I want for my sons…health, happiness, love, sincerity, respect. I think that it would be more, though just because I am a woman and I’ve experienced things that I could only relate to a daughter. So, I decided that I would write a letter to my daughter, or perhaps to my future daughters-in-law. It would go something like this.

My darling daughter,
While in your father’s office this week, I caught sight of the young lady working in his office. She’s very young, having just graduated from college, but she already has a very grown-up life. She’s an unmarried mother of two daughters. Right now she’s experiencing some problems with the father of her daughters and I’ve watched as she’s allowed him to tear her down. It angered me and it saddened me, not just for her, but also for the girls she’s raising on her own. It got me thinking about you and what I would want for you and what words of wisdom I could impart upon you.
Being a woman is difficult. I would hope that you’re able to stand tall and hold your head high. I want you to be able to look adversity in the face and perhaps slap it silly a few times. I want you to stay true to yourself, to consider how your actions directly and indirectly affect others. I want you to find at least one opportunity every day to find some way to do good for another human being. These are all the same things I hope for your brothers, but for you there’s more.
You’re going to fall in love, maybe only once, but most likely multiple times over the course of your life. Your heart is going to break and you’ll have days when you’ll tell yourself life can’t go on, but it will. You’re going to allow your heart to interfere with your head, perhaps finding a way to push down that part of your brain that tells you “hey, you deserve better.” Don’t let that happen! You’ll second guess yourself. You’ll worry. In the end, I hope you take a step back and breathe, because really and truly it’s not the end of your world.
Your intelligence will be tested and questioned because you’re a female. Stand strong, my sweet girl. Don’t be rude or heartless, but don’t allow yourself to pushed aside. You have a voice and you can be heard.
Don’t ever settle. Trust your instinct, because in most cases it’s right. You deserve happiness, love, and respect, but impart those traits upon others as well. Be empathic. You really don’t know what someone else’s life is like unless you’ve walked in their shoes. Trust me, my dear, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever walk in someone else’s shoes. Be careful to trust others and don’t always take things at face value.
Understand the importance of vanity and by that I mean it can be a person’s true downfall. You’ll hear this time and time again…it’s what’s inside that counts. And since we’re on that road, let’s discuss your Christian values.
God doesn’t care what you look like. He doesn’t care if you wear designer clothing, or have a supermodel body. Society may care, but society will not be there for you they way He will. Confide in our Lord daily. Remember to thank Him for your blessings and ask Him to bless others. Make some time each day to reflect upon His word, to read His word, and even spread His word. The Lord made you who you are. This is not your permanent home. Your permanent home is alongside Him in heaven. Remember that my dear and always lead a Christian life.
There’s so much more I could share with you, so much more that’s completely escaped my brain. Not to worry, my darling, you will be forced to listen to me every day of your life at least for the first 18 years you’re living with me.
One final thing…you are a blessing, not just to us, but to everyone you encounter. Remember that. Maintain a sense of humility, but remember that you can and should make a difference in another person’s life…hopefully a positive one. You are loved very much and regardless of what may happen in your life, you will always be loved.

I love you, my sweet, sweet girl.

Love,
Mommy

Farewell, Captain!

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There are so many heroes in this world. When I was growing up, my heroes ranged from my parents to Sandra Day O’Connor (as I became older). Then it was my brother as he fought leukemia. When I was always asked about my heroes, I can’t ever recall turning to fictitious characters, but I also can’t recall ever having a celebrity, be it athlete or actor, as my hero.

When my dad was growing up, heroes were the men and women who fought during World War II or the Joe DiMaggios and Hank Aarons of the world. Heroes were people who were strong and brave, people who fought for others, and people who did their job with a higher standard in mind. My husband and I have tried to instill the same beliefs in our sons where heroes are concerned. We ask that they not look to Thor or Captain America or Justin Bieber or anyone unreal or superficial. Heroes are few and far between these days, but there is still one left even if he is no longer a participant in his sport. That hero is Derek Jeter.

Derek Jeter is more than just a baseball player. Sure, his stats speak volumes. A .310 batting average. A .377 on base percentage. 3465 hits. 260 homeruns. 1311 RBIs. Clearly, this man was a hero to many on the baseball field, but it’s off the field that I’m excited about.

Derek Jeter played the sport with integrity. He is admired by many and respected by all. It’s very rare to hear about Derek Jeter outside of baseball, at least personally. In a day when so many young celebrities allow their newfound fame to tear them down, Derek Jeter practiced the lost arts of humility and grace. He created his Turn 2 Foundation to help youth steer clear of drug and alcohol use and to reward those with exemplary academic standards. He understands the value of community service.

My husband is a native New Yorker and for him there is no other team than the New York Yankees. He grew up a Yankee fan and can remember the stories of Babe Ruth and Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio. In his youth, my husband admired the likes of Bernie Williams, a mentor and teammate of Derek Jeter’s, so it was easy to transition to Derek Jeter as his all time favorite baseball player. Now, we have two young boys of our own and while I grew up an Atlanta Braves fan, I’ve come to have a certain level of love for the Yankees and Derek Jeter. I’m content to have my boys sporting their Derek Jeter jerseys. I’m happy my son has a “hero” like Derek Jeter to look up to. Davey’s even attempted to learn how to announce Derek Jeter’s name like Bob Sheppard.

It was sad in our house to watch Derek Jeter’s last All Star game, his last game in Yankee stadium, and his last game EVER at Fenway Park. We had lumps in our throats when we watched the Gatorade commercials. Our chests swelled with pride as we watched opposing teams tip their hats in respect to the 2nd ever Pride of the Yankees.

Davey watched one of Derek Jeter’s last games on television and at one point, he stood to hold 2 fingers in the air…a gesture of support and admiration for the one and only #2 of the New York Yankees. My husband is sad that we never took the opportunity to take Davey to NY this past summer to see Derek Jeter play. It worries him that there will never be another hero like Derek Jeter. For now, we’ve had Yankeeography: The Captain’s Collection, on replay in our house. Davey’s learned more than most other children about Derek Jeter.

So, from the Doser household we’d like to say:
“Thank you, Captain, for holding your head high, for playing the game with integrity, for maintaining a humble persona, for your charitable works, and for helping to shape the lives of so many. You will be missed.”

First season in the new stadium. Our chance to see Derek Jeter in action
First season in the new stadium. Our chance to see Derek Jeter in action

On This Date in 2011

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This is the story of Davey’s birth as told by me, his mother, to Davey. We do this every year on his birthday.

Once upon a time their was a young lady named, Mommy. She was married to a man named, Daddy. For a long time, Mommy and Daddy prayed hard for a little baby. One day Mommy went to the doctor. The doctor told her that she was going to have a baby. She was so excited especially when she heard the baby’s heartbeat. It made her cry.

After a few months, Mommy’s belly began to grow as the baby she carried grew bigger and bigger. Finally, it was time for the baby to be born, but he didn’t want to come out. He liked growing inside Mommy’s belly.

Three days passed and the doctor told Mommy and Daddy that the baby was going to be born today! Mommy and Daddy were so excited.

When the baby was born, he came out crying. Daddy brought him over to Mommy and Mommy began to cry as she stroked the baby’s hair. They decided to name him David Brian, a strong name, but a name with a lot of family to it. David was Daddy’s name and Guh Guh’s name, and Brian was Mommy’s brother’s name.

He was a big baby, weighing 8 pounds, 15 ounces, and 21 inches long. Mommy and Daddy were very happy and they thanked the Lord for answering their prayers and they all three lived happily ever after.

The Day of his Birth

I’m not that great at creating my own stories for Davey, but this is one that I love to tell him every year on his birthday. This year was the first year he knew to actually ask for it. “Mama, tell me my birthday story,” he said as I put him down for a nap.

I look at my baby everyday and count my blessings for the graces the Lord has bestowed upon me and my husband. We wanted Davey so much and we thought we’d never get him. The last three years of my life almost feel like a whirlwind. I’ve become disoriented at times, forgetful, impatient, loving, empathetic, happy, and sad. I’ve literally experienced every emotion on the wheel of life and I wouldn’t trade a single moment of it. I can’t wait to see what the “threes” have in store for us.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVEY!

Truly Brave

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If you haven’t heard about this latest song/music video then you’ve possibly been living under a rock for the past two days, or perhaps you’re just out of touch. In this world, when we’re constantly inundated with so much negativity and miserable things within our society, two of the pop music world’s most prolific singer/songwriters have gotten together to mesh their two remarkable songs into a new anthem for children suffering from cancer. Sara Bareille’s “Brave” and Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors”.

I first saw the segment on the Today Show yesterday. I usually have the program on in the mornings while I’m getting me and the boys ready. All year, the anchors and reporters have participated in a “Shine the Light” project which serves to highlight or bring recognition to the programs and charities nearest and dearest to them. Hoda Kotb, a cancer survivor, decided to highlight the plight of children who are diagnosed with cancer and to find a way to cheer them up.

Being a mom with two small boys and the sister of a young man who died from leukemia, I am immediately drawn to anything that brings attention to the suffering, the cures, the laughters, the heartaches, and the all around love and support of anyone who is or has suffered from cancer. So, yesterday I dropped what I was doing to watch the segment and then to watch the video. It was poignant. It was beautiful. It was emotional and heart wrenching, but mostly it was magical.

I watched these children, heads shaven, tubes in their noses, ports in their chests, hooked to machines giving chemo. I listened to them talked and watched them smile. I didn’t see a single tear, nor did I ever once hear, “why me?” A lump formed in my throat and tears slowly began falling down my cheeks. I was immediately transported back to 10 years ago when my younger brother was diagnosed with leukemia. He wasn’t a child, but he was my mother’s child, her youngest, her baby. I thought about his diagnosis, watching him day in and day out as he fought the horrible disease, and how he did it with his head held high. In his final four years on this earth, he only asked once, “why me?”

No child, especially the smallest and youngest of the world, should ever have to face such an ugly disease. It breaks my heart when I see them going through things that most adults wouldn’t be able to handle. I’m sick at my stomach as I think about what they should be doing with life, out playing with their friends, getting into mischief, participating in school and sports, anything other than being in a hospital bed. As a parent, I’m terrified of my one of my children suffering with the disease. While I have faith both boys would handle it well, it tears me up to think this is something I really can’t protect them from, nor can I take it away from them.

It’s always saddened me to see anyone who suffers with cancer, but never hit me quite so hard until my brother was diagnosed with it. It hit home. It became real. And all of those years of me protecting him, were completely changed when he became my protector the day he told me, “it will all be alright. We’ll make it through somehow.” A child shouldn’t go through that and neither should a parent have to see their child suffer through it. Unfortunately, it’s a reality and the fact that so many are eager to find a way to not just cure the disease, but to also ease the suffering of those who are stricken with it, just helps to restore my faith in humanity.

If you haven’t seen the video, please go to this website and watch it.

https://www.crowdrise.com/hoda

And give thanks for the healthy children in your life and find a way to give to those less fortunate. – Marlo Thomas, St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital.

This was my brother, 8 days before he died.
This was my brother, 8 days before he died.

I Am THAT Soccer Mom

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I embarrass myself. I embarrass my husband and I’m sure if my son understood the emotion of embarrassment, I would embarrass him as well. It’s not intentional, but it just happens. Almost like losing my patience isn’t intentional…it just happens, but stand by for a moment as I pat myself on the back after last night.

Ugh, groan, reaching… with… my… left… hand… while… typing… with… my… right, eek, oh, there we go. A good pat on the back. Now, back to full speed typing as I explain why I’m giving myself a pat on the back.

Before we go any further, I should preface this blog post with the following statement: I am a competitive person by nature. I compete against others who are better than me and others who are worse than me. I compete with myself. I compete with the opposite sex. The only person, or type of person, I don’t compete with is a child. I’m a realist and I think that would be doubly embarrassing on all fronts as most children can beat me (even mentally). SMH.

Davey’s first soccer game, I realized that I came off as a bit too pushy, maybe a bit too competitive. I was the only parent, not mom, but parent, who was yelling (yes, yelling) at her son to kick the ball, to get into the game, to do something! When I say “yelling” I don’t mean that I was berating Davey, kicking him around, or mentally brow beating him. My yelling consisted more of, “come on, Davey! You can do it. Just kick the ball. No, don’t kick it that way. Go get the ball. Don’t just stand there.”

Kicking the ball

I can only imagine what the other parents thought of me. I know what my own parents thought of me. They were there at the game to watch and were quick to put me in my place. “It’s just a game,” they said. “He’s only two,” they remarked. And they’re right. What do we, or I, get out of Davey winning a soccer game at the age of two? NOTHING! So, I decided to attempt to “86” my competitiveness for his next game, which was last night.

Refusing to play

Now, here’s why I’m patting myself on the back. Even though my child sat down in the middle of the field while others kicked the ball around him. I didn’t yell. I sat in my chair and took pictures. When Davey wanted to run onto the other field to play. I didn’t yell, although I did hide my face in embarrassment. When he refused to “share” with others, I just rolled right along with the flow. I tried my best to mimic the behavior of the other moms and parents by just sitting back and enjoying the comical entertainment known as 2 & 3 year old co-ed soccer.

Sitting on the field.

I don’t want to be that mom and I’m working hard to change my perspective. So what if he Davey wants to run away onto the other fields? He’s two!!!!!! His behavior in that respect is not indicative of my parenting abilities, which has been my true worry. He’s two!!!!!! He’s a boy. He’s going to run and explore.

Hanging out in the goal

We didn’t win the game last night, but who cares! And Davey’s behavior seemed to rub off on another little boy, but who cares! The thing I should be and am most concerned with is did my child have fun? YES! He’s a happy boy, a sweet boy, an intelligent boy, and a loving boy. Once again allow me to pat myself on the back.

Adios, Summer 2014

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At 10:29 last night, Fall 2014 officially came into town. Since I’ve been a bit slack this summer with posting photos, adventures, and writing blogs, I thought what better time to give a quick rundown of our summer than with this “Goodbye to summer” and “Hello to Fall” blog!

June 21st, at 6:51 am, was this year’s Summer Solstice…otherwise known as the first official day of Summer! Fortunately, or unfortunately depending upon your view, summer in the Deep South seems to start in mid to late April. We’re hit with hot and humid days, sweltering heat and the occasional thunderstorms that only seem to make breathing worse instead of better. This year was no exception, but we won’t start with when it felt like summer, but instead the actual day. So, without further adieu, here is how we spent our first summer together as a foursome:

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Davey got his first official bicycle and began learning to ride. He was a quick learner at it and we ended up taking it every where with us this summer including Mimi & Pop’s who have a much longer driveway to ride it on.

Bike Riding Davey

We also took a field trip of sorts to our local free “waterpark” located in beautiful downtown Greenville, SC, outside the Lazy Goat. It’s nothing more than water fountains and spouts all along a fake train track, but Davey thoroughly enjoyed it.

Water Park Davey

July 4th we were in Rochester, NY visiting family for the week. We enjoyed everything from go kart racing to miniature golf, fireworks to parades, live music to horse races, and even had a cook out complete with our personal bouncy house. Another first was Henry’s plane ride and Davey now officially getting his own seat. We had a love/hate with Davey having his own seat. It was nice to NOT have to hold him, but ridiculous to pay for his seat.

DSC_0238

July 4th

Davey became a more advanced swimmer this year as we spent 3 days a week usually at Mimi and Pop’s house in their pool. Henry was introduced to his first pool experience and while he eventually came to enjoy it, it was a bit of a labor to get him in.

Swimmer Davey

Swimmer Henry

We threw in some zoo trips with friends and adventures at the Children’s Museum before finally getting our opportunity to enjoy the beach in mid August. We visited aquariums and battle ships. We built sand castles and rode the waves on boogie boards. Henry had his first experience with a crashing wave and quickly learned he didn’t like the taste of sand. Davey hunted for seashells and played miniature golf.

MB 3

MB 2

MB 1

We managed to find some time to take Davey to his first movie experience where he saw “Rio 2” and “Planes: Fire and Rescue.” We had amusement park rides and outlet shopping. I found time to participate in 2 triathlons with Davey finishing both of them with me.

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Finally, we closed out summer with Davey’s first season of soccer, some apple picking, backyard shenanigans, and 1/2 price ice cream cones.

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To Summer 2014, we’d like to say, “thank you for the memories, the adventures, and the heat. You were not a disappointment.”

And to Fall 2014, we’d like to say, “Bring on the pumpkins and leaves, the bonfires with s’mores, college football Saturdays, chili, and the smell of apple pies baking. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!”

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I’m Henry the 8th I Am…

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Well, he’s actually Henry the First, but we’ve become a huge fan of Herman’s Hermits in our house. It’s a daily ritual to sing “Henry the 8th” to our own little Henry. Davey’s even learned all the verses, once even breaking into song at the grocery store when a lady asked Henry’s name. It melted my heart and we all got a good laugh out of it.

We used to sing a version of Davy Crockett to Davey when he was a baby, substituting different words in to fit our circumstances. We still sing it to him occasionally. I love doing that…taking old songs and turning them into songs to fit our daily life. For example, when trying to get Davey to potty train, I took the Four Seasons “Big Girls” and turned it into a little dity that made him laugh and even encouraged him to use the potty. I even went so far as to sing Frankie Valli’s high alto voice! I know!

These days music plays a huge role in our house. I try to encourage everything from classic rock and roll, to gospel and blue grass. I’ll even throw in the occasional Top 40 and Alternative (my favorite). What I’ve come to discover is that my second little man has an even bigger love for music than my first.

Getting ready to dance

Henry can drop everything and bounce up and down on his knees, clapping rambunctiously when he hears a song. At times, he even pulls himself up into a standing position, arms stretched out in front of him as if he’s conducting his own orchestra, and starts bee-bopping away. I mean that literally, as today I heard him say, “bee bop”.

Henry getting his groove on

He’s become wonderful at keeping pace with a song even using his hands to tap out the beat on the table. What does this mean? Nothing more than my child has an amazing way with enjoying music. I don’t recall Davey getting as into it as Henry does. Davey is quick to memorize verses and entire songs, though. Of course, I couldn’t expect that from Henry right now.

I suppose what’s really tickled my fancy the most is how the other day I found Herman’s Hermits singing “Henry the 8th” on YouTube. Once I pushed play, Peter Noone’s (yes, I know you are all so surprised that a mere 39 year old knows this music…another post for another day) voice began bellowing out the infectious lyrics, “I’m Henry the 8th I am, Henry the 8th I am I am. I got married to the widow next door. She’s been married seven times before…” Henry’s face lit up, he laughed and pulled himself up into a standing position before clapping his hands and bouncing along to the song. Davey even managed to join in!

I take a somewhat non-traditional approach with my children. We don’t know a lot of nursery rhymes, but we do know a lot of Bible songs. We do listen to a lot of music every day. I like to incorporate modern takes with old classics especially with hymns I grew up on. For example, “It Is Well with My Soul” is a favorite. It’s one we can listen to sung as a hymn or a modern day Christian rock. We love Bob Seger, Lionel Richie, Darius Rucker, and George Strait. And not to be outdone by all the moms out there with little girls who seem love Taylor Swift, we do know all the words to “Shake it Off” and love to hit the replay button.

What about the rest of you? I’d love to know what gets your little ones moving and maybe you moving along with them. I’ve always said that I’d gladly give up a television for music. There’s so much more to the imagination, after all “Henry the 8th” could really be imagined in so many ways.

The happy boy

The Importance of English

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I get a lot of gripe these days from random folks. I hear things like, “he’s only two,” or “poor kid, he’s just trying to express himself.” I’ve been told I need to lighten up. To these people I say, “it’s never too early to teach your child the importance of speaking properly.”

One of the three degrees I have is an Associates in English. I love to read and I love to write. I always have. That’s part of the reason I studied English post high school. At that point in my life, I had not a clue what I wanted to do, but I loved the English language.

Once I entered Clemson, I transitioned my major into Speech & Communication Studies and Political Science. There was a fascination on my end with the spoken word and how just one small slip of the tongue could turn an extremely intelligent person into what could be construed as an illiterate moron. I put a lot of effort into how I speak, even now, even though I don’t necessarily need to for a job. I do it now because I don’t want either one of my sons to sound un-intelligent.

I’m amazed at the effort put into NOT focusing on grammar or spelling or speaking properly. I suppose we’ve become dependent upon computers to help “fix” any of our errors. These computers have become our crutches in the world of the spoken and written word. I’m guilty of relying on them a lot more than what I should. I try to be cognizant of what I write and say and how I convey myself, and I’m trying to instill that in my boys, even little Henry who just turned 9 months old.

My pet peeve these days with Davey is when I ask him a question he responds with, “huh?” I cringe each time I hear that word spill out of his mouth. It’s almost like the sound of nails scraping down a chalkboard. It’s taken a while, but I don’t hear “huh” quite as often and should it slip, I raise my eyebrows and refuse to answer Davey until he corrects himself.

I try to convey the importance of tense to Davey when speaking and the correct use of pronouns. I’m simply appalled at the number of children older than Davey who say “her is coming”. Are the parents just not listening to their children or do they not care?

I don’t discipline him and I don’t scold him. I just simply take the time to correct him and explain the importance of speaking correctly. And the funny thing is that Davey gets it. He truly gets it. It makes me chuckle when he says with perfect alliteration, “Mommy, I sound intelligent.” Yes, my son, you do.

These days a lot of effort is placed upon the Common Core method of learning. The method has its pros and cons and I’m not interested in turning this blog into a forum about whether or not Common Core is best. What really shocks me; however, is the number of people who are in support of Common Core yet they can’t even understand when to use “which” vs. “that” or “whose”, “who”, “who’s”, “whom”. These same people spout out their so called “intelligence” on the matter and yet they can’t even write properly. Instead they use acronyms and short cuts in order to convey their message. It’s sad. There are run-on sentences, phrases, and comma splices. Heck, I know I’m guilty of the occasional one, but I do try to proofread whatever I’m writing in the hopes to NOT make the constant and common mistakes I see within our society.

What’s even sadder is the fact that so many children these days come out of school without being able to write the appropriate business letter, or type, or even draft a proposal using proper English. For people like me, it’s frustrating to see our children this way.

How many of you spend the time actually speaking to and with your children? How many of you put forth the effort to make sure your children are speaking correctly? It’s never too early or too late to start, and it’s definitely a nice “ace” to have in their pocket.