Yes, we all say it
But this is a first for me
I bore a genius

He built it himself
Some mad skills I don’t possess
He was just as proud

I was glad for once
Look, he kept his trousers on!
Pity–no shirt though

Love that 3-year-old scary smile.

Side note:
Well, I can sit back and breathe and say I am finally glad yesterday is over and done with. What a nightmare. I spent the majority of the day (until about 7 p.m.) with Cameron tattooed to my left hip, he felt awful all day long and I’m sure he was confused about what his little body was doing to him. The vomiting subsided the night before (thankfully), but he nursed a head and stomach ache from Haiti all day long. I know this because Bryan did too. He ended up taking Excedrin Migraine to finally stop the nonsense. On the upswing, the day took on a much brighter note when the FedEx man showed up with a package–the kind he had to punch those obnoxious 15+ numbers into his wee machine, smile and hand the box over. I say obnoxious because I once had to phone the FedEx 800-number to track a package and spent an annoying ten minutes on the phone talking to the automated robot machine trying in vain to sound like an American because it bloody couldn’t understand my accent. I was forwarded to a real person in the end. I suppose there’s a plus side in there somewhere.

* * * * * *

The plan now, is to answer as many of your questions as I can and hit the thirteen. I’ll post more answers soon.

1. Laura asked:
Would you move back to Scotland if you could?
I’ve thought about this a lot, as has Bryan. Not any serious contemplation though. I would, but I would want to live somewhere a little less built-up, maybe in a small town (I highly doubt I’d move back to Greenock, there’s no point). As it happens, my husband’s employer has locations all over the UK and it is entirely possible to relocate. My biggest motivation to stay here is the paycheck. I know he’d be paid a lot less than he is right now and I’d be forced to work somewhere like Greggs (a bakery chain). And THAT would be so awful…

2. Mumof4 asked:
What is the question/comment about Scotland that you get over here that bugs you the most?
I haven’t really had any questions that bugged me, but one that always makes me laugh goes a bit like this:
“My family is from the Buchanan line from Edinburgh, do you know them?” Short of saying, “Well, Scotland (with the rest of the UK) is the size of Oregon with a population of 6,000,000–chances are, I don’t know them.” I usually just smile and say “No, sorry.”

I had one girl I worked with ask me if we celebrated Christmas in Scotland, I wasn’t really prepared for that one.

3. Steve asked:
When you make your trip to Scotland, will Cameron be treated to Gerber’s haggis? Surely that’s a more popular flavor over there than, say, spinach.
If they made Stovies flavoured food, I would totally buy it for him. Of course, I’d probably end eating it. Stovies = stew made from sausage meat and potatoes (with vegetables).

4. IfMomSaysOK asked:
What was one of our strange American sayings that gave you the most trouble when you first moved here?
Just one? I can’t just leave it at one, it’s not possible.

Jumper. Yet another word for sweater in the UK. I was told, “I love your jumper” by a friend in 90 degrees weather. I responded (incredulously), “I’m not wearing a jumper!” “Yes you are!” Turns out I didn’t know all the American words I thought I did. I haven’t said the word ‘pinafore’ in years now.

Fanny. I’d get so offended when someone used that word in front of me. I still can’t bring myself to call a Bum Bag a Fanny Pack. I can’t believe I even typed all that.

Addendum - years ago someone called me a fanny because they knew it would offend me, so in retaliation (because the word means nothing to me), I called them a douche bag. (Sorry I made you read that!)

There’s still words I don’t know the meaning of because they haven’t come up in every day life. Recently I had to ask (on the sly) what a swap meet was.

5-8. thesuburbanscrawl asked:
How much of the U.S. have you seen in the years you’ve been here? What are some of your favorite cities?
Apart from the places I have seen, I’ve been in most of the airports of the places I really want to see: Chicago, New York, Boston… But, I love San Francisco, San Jose, Yosemite National Park, Lake Tahoe (NV side). Las Vegas was pretty awesome too (in the non-American ‘awesome’ way). One of the coolest things I’ve done was standing in the Penn State stadium. It was ginormous. I’d love to visit the south too.

Other than family and friends, what do you miss the most about Scotland?
I miss the history behind the buildings; seeing old and new architecture blended together seamlessly, especially in Glasgow. I took it for granted. I also miss public transport and being able to walk anywhere within a reasonable amount of time (and also without the risk of killing myself). I miss talking as fast as I used to and rolling my Rs. I stopped because I got tired of hearing how ‘cute’ it was.I miss a decent curry and chip shops. Knowing the names of cuts of meat (because those are different too), British TV adverts and decent chocolate.

What assumptions did you make about the US before coming here, that ended up being totally wrong? What about the ones that ended up being totally right?
That’s a hard one and I’ve been thinking hard trying to remember that far back. I know this sounds strange, but I think one assumption I made was that there’d be less countryside than there is. Only being exposed to New York, Boston, Chicago and California (generally speaking) on TV, I assumed it was mostly all like that. I also assumed that food labelling wouldn’t be all that different. How wrong was I the first time I went to buy milk and stood staring at it wondering what on earth 1% milk was? What was the other 99%–water? Needless to say, I walked off with entirely the wrong thing (looking for ’semi-skimmed’) and invariably poured Half n Half (single cream to you Brits) on my cereal the next morning. I can laugh now… I can’t think of any that I was right about, but if I do, I’ll post it later.

9. (the other) Laura asked:
Do you feel socialised medicine is as evil as most/all American’s do?
I wouldn’t say I think it’s evil, but it certainly has its flaws. The waiting lists for patients in the UK for routine surgeries is abhorrible. It’s also easier to see a specialist here without having to jump through all the red tape to get there. I prefer the preventive care here too, i.e. if my Mum was over here, she’d be screened for colon cancer because her mother developed it. I miss being able to walk into the doctor’s office and not having to pay him/her just to talk to them. I also miss not having to wait an hour+ (at times) to be taken back and seen.

10. Long Aye-Lander asked:
What kind of questions do Americans ask you when they hear your accent?
The #1 question is: “Are you from Ireland?”
I’ve thought about making a t-shirt on threadless.com that reads: “No. I’m not freakin Irish.”

I went and saw August Rush with friends a few months back. Friends who, by the way, have been around me for almost eighteen months now. At the end I remarked:
“I’m so glad that Jonathan Rhys Meyers was in that film and you could all hear an Irish accent!”
“Why? Is it different from yours?”
I was a little flabbergasted, but managed to squeak out, “Yeah, they talk funny.”

Another question is, “Is your husband from there too?” On just a few occasions I’ve responded, “Actually, if he was from there, I wouldn’t be here.” I find it interesting that some people seemed quite shocked that I would say that. Like a few other ex-pats that I’ve come across, I’m what you could call an ‘accidental’ ex-pat. I didn’t come here for a better life like the majority of immigrants, when it comes down to it, the UK and the US are really quite similar. Minus the culture shock!

11 & 12. GlassHalfFull asked:
Has it been hard to make new friends since you moved to Montana?
Yes and no. People are really nice here, but tend to keep to themselves. The biggest age range here are retirees, because quite frankly, it’s a great place to retire. It’s serene and beautiful. I know my neighbours to see, but they mostly keep to themselves. I think that’s another thing that surprised me about the States, people don’t just ‘pop over’ for no reason, to sit and chat or play board games together or something. It’s a way of life in the UK and it was a bit of a shocker when I got here and realised it just wasn’t something that was done all that often.

Other than church friends and people Bryan works with, my only other ‘friend’ is my Pampered Chef consultant. We’re both sarcastic INFJ’s so we hit it right off. And to think I only went to one party as a gesture for a friend. I’ve spent way too much money with her. I also ended up hosting a party and the kickback was awesome.

Do you feel comfortable identifying your religious affiliation/beliefs (you’ve mentioned church in your blog), or is that something that you prefer to keep private?
I’ve never really spoken about it at length or mentioned it in-depth, but we’re both LDS. My Mum and Gran and older brother all joined when I was 3. I haven’t always been what we call ‘active’ or practicing, but came back to it in my late teens. I’ve been to many other denominational churches and participated in services, but felt the most comfortable there. I wouldn’t say it defines who I am, but rather, refines. My friend count would be a lot less here in Montana were it not for those I associate with outside of Sunday services.

I think that’s another thing I like about the States, that there are so many people who are religious in their own right and believe in God. That’s really hard to find in Scotland. It’s also another assumption I made about America that I was totally wrong about. I thought there would be more agnostics and unbelievers.

13. Kathryn asked (and I’ll count this as one!):
Do you like haggis? Have you ever seen “So I Married An Axe Murderer”? And if yes, is Mike Meyers Scottish accent accurate?
Yes, yes and kinda. More than anything he got the culture down to a T.

I generally only ate haggis once a year on Burns’ Night (25 January). I didn’t learn until later on in life what was in it, but it didn’t change my opinion of it. It’s mostly oatmeal and spices. The ‘bag’ it is cooked in isn’t eaten, but is a way to cook its contents. My Mum used to fry it after parboiling it, because, you know that’s what we do best in Scotland, fry stuff!

I loved in the film where the piper was playing the Rod Stewart song, that totally cracked me up. I think the best fake Scottish accent out there is the woman who plays Professor McGonigle in Harry Potter, Maggie Smith. She’s actually English. When I first heard the girl that plays Cho Chang talk I almost teared up because I felt ‘normal’. Bless!

dillion:  (pronounced dull-yin)
A child’s term for a single hard blow, often inflicted with the head:

“Big McConnell gied um a dillion.”

The word is also in wider use to mean anything exceptionally good:

“Ah’m getting a mountain bike for ma birthday an it’s a pure dillion!”

Hear it.

It’s 1:48 a.m.

It’s officially official.  I am the sole survivor, the one that got away from: The Flu.

Ian still has a bad cough.

Bryan’s had the shakes and a temp of 102 all night.

And now, Cameron just threw up all over his crib quilt and then me.

So, I may be in for a long night, but I will be posting WotW–no fear.  Bear with me.  I usually get everything that’s going too.  This sucks.

Alright, so I might not be the real Prime Minister, but around here I am. OK, I try to be. Those opposing my methodology and fundamental strategies do not sit quietly. I am barraged with answering back, foot stamping and huffy shouts (and here was I thinking I wouldn’t experience the 3-year-old mood swings because they’d never happened to this point)…*sigh* It’s alright, I’ll let him off, he’s still sick.

But after reading quite a few blogs recently on this very idea, I thought I would oblige over here too.

In ‘real’ life, people seem a little coy to ask me questions–questions about myself or where I’ve come from, what it’s like or what I have experienced here. I find that being online opens up the possibilities to saying and thinking things which are harder to do in person. The fact that I met my husband online and we got to know each other a lot more personally in a quicker amount of time is evident of that theory.

So anyway, my point is…I know some of you out there may have questions for me, so feel free to ask them. Leave a question(s) in the comments and I’ll answer them. I’m not really fussy on the subject matter: immigration, my quirks, food dislikes, pet peeves - it’s up to you. Do keep it clean though, there’s children present! I’ll post my responses in a blog later this week.

Surprisingly, I’ve really struggled this week trying to decide which old post to republish. I am caught between a few: a sentimental one, a more-about-me-and-immigration one or the funny one that I love that got like one bloody comment. So, I went with this one.

My Mum and step-dad come over to visit us for the first (and only) time in the States. Ian was 10-12 weeks old at the time. It was a very bitter-sweet visit. I wrote this a year after they were here (I wasn’t blogging in 2004). Without further a-do…

Perfect Moments - 25 September 2005

I’ve been a little reflective lately, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because September is drawing to a close, and finally weather my little Scottish thermostat can handle is breezing in. Whatever the reason, I have become slightly philosophical.

It’s hard to believe just over a year has past since my mother and step-father were here to visit us for the very first time. Ian was just 11 weeks old at the time. Having them here was really quite a surreal experience for me. I’d never had my Mum stand in my bathroom, and had the opportunity to admire her as she stood and sprayed her hair, or watched her brush her teeth with such a staring intensity I have never known before.

Each morning, as she finished getting ready for the day, I would bound upstairs and drape myself across her bed and just watch her. When I got tired of that, I’d fire question after question at her and keep her talking so much, we’d be an hour or so behind on our plans for our outings. It was so enthralling to me to introduce her to brands and stores I had been accustomed to driving past every day. Or warning her sales tax is added at the till, a dime looks like 5p, and you can legally turn right on a red light (although I wish we couldn’t).

With the exuberance and energy usually only seen in a child’s eye, I showed her the things Bryan and I had accumulated over our then 3.2 years of marriage, Ian’s collection of clothing and blankets, our photographs, and our favourite scenic haunts.

In retrospect, it was such a bitter-sweet time for me. I was so elated they were finally here, and especially able to meet our little Ian, and watch them dote over him; but it was such a difficult time also, because I knew I had to cherish every tiny moment they were around.

Even the most ordinary of things brought me to tears; and perhaps you could be forgiven for thinking it was my hormones trying to kick back into balance. What a blessing it was to stand in my bedroom and stare down into our garden thirty feet below, watching my mother pull up a chair and soak in the sunshine. With his arm around my shoulder, Bryan asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” “It’s not every day you look out your bedroom window and your Mum is standing in your yard.” I cherish those moments, as most would their fine china.

As the house quietened down, and time ticked by, resuming our lives became easier. At the time, I had never imagined how having them here and then watching them leave for Scotland, would have such a profound affect on me.

I made a point of keeping the door to their bedroom closed religiously. The bathroom was more challenging. Out of necessity, I decided to distance myself from it for two weeks. The fragrance of my mother’s body wash seemed to have permeated the entire room, and I found it emotionally difficult to experience the smallest whiff of it. She had left a large remainder of it for me, and admittedly, I only started using it at the beginning of this month.

Wherever my reflections take me, I have learned never to take anything for granted. Every day is a special occasion and calls for our best plates and silverware. And most importantly, there are no perfect days, just perfect moments.

All it really took
Was some thought and a website
Hours of fun ensued

Despite being artsy-fartsy and a graphic designer, I’ve never really been that crafty. I also don’t really share anything unless I am über excited about it. And just so you know, I’m also not one to forward e-mails just for the sake of it, so if you get one from me, you’ll know it has to be good.

Last week when it was still really cold, I had been looking for an activity to do with Ian. I had a wave of inspiration and tried hunting down a cookbook my MIL had given me eight years ago (Bryan brought it with him to CA when we first ‘met’). It’s full of recipes from her and a bunch of her neighbours and friends. One of the recipes in there is for homemade playdough. I searched forever and couldn’t find it, and was now kicking myself for mentioning it to Ian beforehand and getting his hopes up.

I resigned myself to coming up with another less inventive idea, but then remembered a vital fact: Life comes with the Internet! Not only did I find a brilliant playdough recipe, it smells awesome too!

1. Pray more for Gran. Mum told me the other day that she’s (Gran) mentioned she’s feeling pressure in her stomach. I don’t want to think about it. I’ll cry if I do.

2. Do a normal load of wash (fine. OK, six maybe even seven loads).

After a short stint at Church, Ian runs off to get a drink of water and comes back with this doozey:

“Daddy, I need to poo. Uh-oh too late!”

I sat hunched over, my shoulders shaking in silent laughter as I heard him go up the aisle hand-in-hand with Daddy talking in 3-year-old loud:

“Daddy, there’s poo in my pants. Daddy, there’s poo in my pants. Daddy, there’s poo in my pants.”

Luckily there was some other vocal distraction and it was hard to make him out.

It didn’t end there. Goodbye, we’re not returning. I wasn’t laughing much now. Two words: stomach flu. Pants gone. Four words: Fleece blanket around legs.

I spent two fun-filled days chasing Ian and his devastation around whilst chained to the washing machine. He’s had this before — twice. The first time he was 18 months old and despite efforts to force liquids down his gullet, he ended up in the ER with severe dehydration after 11 long days of projectiles from both ends. It was a sad and scary time. Luckily it never got that bad. He was fine yesterday and back at pre-school (presumably to catch something else) today.

3. Hang up 3 week’s worth of laundered clothes and put anything else in drawers.

4. Hide clothes baskets to eliminate temptation for the rest of the stuff I need to wash.

5. Go give Bruce at the post office a right good gob smack.

Taking Cameron’s passport back to the Post Office was the easy part; having Bryan deal with the newest member of the Spanish Inquisition, Bruce? Nightmare.

Bryan was asked to write “Urgent Rewrite” on the outside of the envelope by the passport agency people a-go-go.
Bruce: “What did you do that for?” he projected with a venomous accusatory tone reminiscent of a Sith.

Bruce: Holding the certified mail label aloft “Why do you want certified mail?”
Bryan: “Because I need to know it got there.”
Bruce: “Do you want insurance, signature on delivery and delivery confirmation that has a tracking number?”
Bryan: “No, certified is fine.”
Bruce: “Why?”

Bryan: “Do you have a Priority Mail envelope that doesn’t have a window in it? I don’t want people seeing what’s inside.”
Bruce: “Why?”
Bryan: “Because my son’s birth certificate and passport are in there, I don’t need to have his identity stolen.”
Bruce: “Sir, the USPS doesn’t do that. We don’t steal peoples’ mail.”

After recounting the story to me, I responded, “No, they just shoot people.”

*Incidentally, he did finally get one without a window.

6. Buy a new toy for each for my boys for the plane(s) for a (hopefully) lengthy distraction.

7. Phone United Airlines and tell them how much they suck for not allowing the use of Baby B’Air on their flights.

8. Get my family pictures back from the photographers. OK, granted we got them taken 29th Dec and I just made up my mind which ones I wanted ye-s-t-e-r-d-a-y and it takes a few weeks to get them … shut your dirty mouth! Remember what I said about more than four choices and I go into melt down?

9. Find Cameron’s hair brush instead of using the lint brush, despite how effective it may be.

10. Think about buying a swimsuit. OK, I’ve thought about it.

11. Get back on the treadmill. I haven’t been on for five weeks, but despite that, I’ve lost SEVEN pounds already. I am officially a MEDIUM (size, that is) again. Don’t hate on me.

12. Buy a rain cover for the stroller. We’re going to Scotland after all.

13. Buy provisions for the trip, it’ll cost twice as much in Scotland. About 100 nappies (diapers), Graduates food, fruit cups, Gerber juice and fruit snacks/roll ups. Also buy some Crayola Colo[u]r Wonder Packs. Thanks for the tip, Mumof4!

And the one that didn’t make the list:

Get dental work finished. When I was there on Valentine’s Day having my gum line violated and separated from my teeth, words like possible, root, canal and crown were being flown around molesting my ear drums. I went in yesterday for an appointment cleverly disguised as an “exploratory exam” and had said root canal performed on tooth No. 20. It was actually pleasant, well, as pleasant as a dental appointment can be. He’s a very good dentist and I managed to make him laugh on a few occasions which just fuelled me to keep doing it. (I’m like that.)

It’s my own fault, I waited seventeen months to go see him. *leaning forward so you can smack my forehead*

I have to go back again for a temporary crown. *heaving dental bill (but with 90% coverage) sigh*

away:

A versatile term. Used on its own as an exclamation it indicates that the speaker doesn’t believe what he has just been told:

“I see Aileen won the lottery.” “Away!”

A longer version of this is away ye go!

Away is also used in commenting on situations where something occurs that has been expected or is seen as likely to lead to further developments:

“That’s her next door comin out[side] to put her penny’s worth in. We’re away now!”

It can also mean leaving or going:

“She’s away to her bed.”
“Right, I’ll away then.”
“If yer no comin Ah’ll be away masel.” (myself)

Someone who is drunk or not right in the head may be described as away wi it:

“You were away wi it before we even got there last night.”

This is sometimes shortened to the first word alone:

“There’s nae talking tae the bam; he’s away.”

Away a place is a delicate euphemism for dead:

When Ah seen that lorry* wisny gauny stoap Ah thought Ah wis away a place.”

*truck

It can also be used as a polite way of saying that someone has gone to the toilet:

“She’ll be back in a minute. She’s just away a place.”

Several phrases of rude dismissal begin with away an. Many are much too offensive to appear here but some milder examples are: Away an bile yer heid, away an pap (toss) peas at yer granny, away an play in the traffic, away an lie on yer ribs, away an peddle yer arse, away an raffle yer doughnut, away an play wi yersel, away an get yer heid looked.

Hear it.

Thank you Laura for tagging me, you’ve given an old greying woman purpose and something to blog about. I wrote this LAST Sunday. How sad am I? On second thoughts, don’t answer that…

A) Each player answers the questions about themselves.

B) At the end of the post, the player then tags 2 people and posts their names, then goes to their blog and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

10 years ago:
I was 23 and had just returned to Scotland from a 18-month stint in Pennsylvania
I laughed at my family for 3 days because they “talked funny” ( I hadn’t lost my accent though)
I got a job at RBS
I dated my ex-boyfriend, again
My brother had just started high school (age 11)
My other brother became a father

5 Things that were on my “to-do” list for today:
Go to church
Take a nap
Cook a pork tenderloin
Keep the house tidy
Talk smack

I Enjoy:
Road trips and travelling
Meeting new people
Reading (I love thesauruses and dictionaries too)
Teaching myself things and trying new recipes
Laughing with my children (or Kathy Griffin)
Shopping and getting bargains

What would I do if I suddenly became a MILLIONAIRE?:
Make a list. I mean — come on, I still haven’t spent my $112.06 on my amazon account. How much hope would I have with $MIL+. Although, I have to say, I’d rather have £1,000,000.

5 Jobs that I have had:
Nelson Laboratories, Inc.
The Royal Bank of Scotland Mortgage Centre
IBM Call Centre
Clinton Cards
WH Smith

5 Things People Don’t know about me:
Despite years of futile practice, I can’t armpit fart or whistle with my fingers
I’ve been to a plastic surgeon
I hate camping, but do it anyway (my idea of roughing it is Motel 6)
Gas stations and the unfinished underside rim of a plate both give me the heebies
I’ve never golfed

Tagged: The Grand View and Suburban Scrawl

Just two? *heaving teenager-esque sigh* Play along if you like, I’m nosy like that.