Of Sippy Cups and Cellos

I have decided that my two favorite words in the English language are 'sippy-cups' and 'cello.' (Actually, does 'sippy-cup' count as two words or as one? And also, please know that I enjoy all forms of the word 'cello': cellist, celli, cell...ing? celloed? Okay, so maybe I just enjoy the three real forms of 'cello.'

I've known that I loved the word 'cello' for a long time; I believe it started from the moment I discovered that the tenor string instrument is not spelled with an 'h.' For some reason, that transformed the word from something that was only moderately interesting, to something that vibrated, as it were, with coolness. Also, it certainly doesn't hurt that the word represents such a darned awesome instrument. I mean, if you want mellow string action, the cello is the way to go. And heck, it just rhymes so well with stuff! You could say in sort of a smarmy tone, "Why hello, mellow cello," and people would either melt away from your utter coolness, or would have a restraining order placed on you after they suffered from a severe attack of the jibblies. (Hm. 'Jibblies' is also a darn good word...)

'Sippy-cup' is a pretty recent addition, though. Truth be told, I only realized that it had gained Favorite Word Status this afternoon as I was driving back from lunch. I was listening to NPR while the guest host of "Fresh Air" was signing off. As is typical on NPR, the host for each respective program ends it by saying..."This is NPR, National Public Radio." Now, you may be wondering what the devil this has to do with sippy-cups, but persevere. I will make a point. You see, one of my favorite shows on NPR is "Car Talk," a show in which callers ask two guys from Cambridge, MA questions about why their car isn't working the way it should. While the material sounds about as exciting as a hockey match between two teams whose players entirely consist of sloths, the show is often laugh-out-loud hilarious, almost entirely due to the contagious laughter and silliness of the two hosts, brothers known affectionally as "Click and Clack"(although their real names are Tommy and Ray).

These guys are great, and they've made guest 'appearances' on such diverse shows as "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch" (which I can't believe I just admitted to watching) and "Arthur." (I'm sure they've appeared on many more shows--I just don't know about them.)

Anyway, but my point isn't to discuss how many shows they've appeared in, nor is it necessarily to discuss their comedic virtues. No, I want to tell you about how they made 'sippy-cup' become one of my favorite words. *So why don't you blasted tell us, you scream uselessly in the background. Quiet, will you? I'm getting to it...*

Well, like all good NPR hosts, Click and Clack sign off of their show with the customary salutation "This is NPR, National Public Radio." But, being guys with quirky senses of humor, they like to spice it up a bit. They'll preface the phrase by saying something like, "And even though Martha Stewart dreams of retreating back to her comfy jail cell every time she hears us say it..." (well, except much more clever and, er, culturally enriching than that example, but you get the picture). So, several weeks ago, while I was listening to car talk, I heard the following sign-off: "And even though toddlers everywhere throw their sippy-cups at the radio whenever they hear us say it, this is NPR, National Public Radio."

I laughed so hard that my eyelids came off (which later had to be reattached by means of a painful surgical procedure). I don't know why the sippy-cup line struck me as being so funny, but it did. Maybe it's because I associate sippy-cups with Moms that haven't showered in 3 days because the moment they could take a shower (i.e. when their kids are all asleep), they lie down on the couch, just to 'catch their breath' and end up waking up to the sound of the family cat yowling from the ceiling fan, with a giggling, guilty three-year-old hiding behind the refrigerator. Sippy-cups also remind me of gunky, crusty high-chairs smeared with the remnants of just one toddler meal, but a meal that managed to spread itself into every fold and crease on the vinyl high-chair cusion. It reminds me of a woman who used to pride herself on her well-coiffed hair, who now feels lucky if she can manage to keep half of her hair contained in her pony-tail for a full day. It reminds me of aching feet, and spilled milk, and all the other utterly exhausting, and somehow utterly rewarding aspects of motherhood.
















Maybe that's why I like the word 'sippy-cup' so much--wrapped up in it are all the emotions that I associate with motherhood--that sense of being over-stressed, under-washed, harried to the bone, and, I imagine, happier in a way than I, as a non-mother, just can't fully appreciate. I'm grateful for the little glimpses my sisters give me when they let me watch their kids. I'm grateful for all that sippy-cup time I get to spend with them.