I have this habit of using the kids' full names when I'm getting pissed. Not middle names but first and last. It serves as a warning, I figure, that my temperature is rising and they'd better get their act together. So, were you a fly on the wall of my livingroom (if you weren't, by luck, getting swatted with a pink rubber glove) you might hear "Mae Capron, keep your hands and feet to yourself!" Or "Lana Capron, open this door by the count of ten or there will be some serious repercussions!" Or, and here's where it starts getting good, "Mihiretu Capron-" a name I never thought I could say with a straight face it's such a raw melding of cultures - "put that ziploc bag full of water in the sink right now or you'll go sit in the car!" The car, it should be noted, is the only spot I've come up with for a time out for that guy. I strap him in his car seat and sit on the steps until he's had a change of heart. The whole go-sit-on-your-bed-and-we'll-have-a-talk, not surprisingly, has not been effective with him.
Months ago, Mae, is a fit of anger said, "Mama Capron!" Whatever argument we had been having dissolved into giggles. She's taken to injecting it when she feels tension growing. Maybe child after child is spilling milk or tracking mud through the house or screeching. When she sees my frustration growing and she senses that she might be visited by Hurricane Liz, she'll shout, half-smiling, "Mama Capron!", like I'm in trouble. It never fails to crack me up.
Lately, Mihiretu's gotten into the act. When he's in mild conflict with someone, say Lana (and it's usually Lana), still at the point when it can all be dismissed as a joke, he'll say in mock fury, "Lana Kay-pin!"
Last night, after a long day out which included canoeing down the Russian River AND a party, we were trying to wrestle the kids into bed. They were past exhausted, it was nine-thirty, an ungodly hour for children (at least our children) to still be out of bed. I had slipped guiltily out of their bedroom for a moment to brush my teeth, leaving Ben in the heat of battle. I could hear shouts rising, and then reaching a crescendo. Mihiretu's voice rang out angrily "Capron!" It was, for all the world, like he was shouting "Asshole!"