How Mod Affect Language

One day me and my mom went to the mall for a little bonding time, when we got back the house was a mess. No surprise. But things like glass on the stairs was destroyed. The kids informed me that they were fighting on the stairs throwing stuff at each other. It suck that the kids have to go through this at such a young age. I went through this many times in my life and hate to see it happen to someone else. Sometimes I wish I can help out in a different way, like emotionally. The problem is I don?t understand what is really going on. Even when we live with each other as friends, there are boundaries. Brick walls that surround me and my mom between them, the whole family. Czar and Vhergie also got another fight at a casino. My mom and her friend Gynea were supposed to hangout and have dinner, and I?m pretty sure Czar did something to ruin that for her because she didn?t want to go out because she was feeling ?sick.? I know she wasn't sick because she was fine when we got to the hotel, and she was making excuses that ? If you really wanted to hang out you should have said early.? or some stuff like that, all I know is that she was

What's wrong? - Nothing, Mom. I was in the building, so I thought I'd come and check on how things are going. I'm your mother.

Later we headed home and as I headed towards my room my mom said, "Wait." I turned around with anger written all over my face.

After a very disheartening day at class, I went home. By the time my mom came home, my attitude had worsened. First she asked me “What happened?”. I responded by saying, “Nothing, I’m fine.” Which she took literally, by the content of my words, when I was hoping that she would take them in a relational sense and see that I wasn’t really “fine”.

“Okay sweetie, get some rest, and we will get there soon, just wanted to check on you.” said my Mom.

My mom is a very perceptive woman. She’s always had a way of explaining the world and the people within it. It came as a great shock to myself when I learned she was extroverted, as I had always known her to exhibit introverted mannerisms. I had assumed she would be the watchful and quiet one, but she’s usually the life of the party. That’s when I started to ask her about her life. She’s experienced enough things to warrant a jaded perspective of the world, yet she still holds some appreciation. I owe her much more than just giving her a mutual respect and completing my chores. I attribute my perspective on the world to my mom. My personality was shaped from her open mind and helped me find my passions in life. I’ve always had a strong sense of who I am, what I want to do in life. I know that I’ll always be welcomed back to her regardless of any mistakes I may

Today, mum said I could not use her car to get to work. She and mom got into a disagreement last night, I am not sure what it was about but I heard she was very ignorant and rude. In result, she told me that my mom should be responsible for me, that she could not lend her car and I could not ask Lorenzo to borrow his. I had nothing to do with her and mom's disagreement.

I never listen to her though. I always stay up to at least eleven o’clock every night. My mom is already sound asleep, so she never knows stay up late. Another one of her silly rules is that as soon as I get home from school, I have to finish all of my homework before I can take a break. I strongly disagree with these rules. If I’ve been at school for six hours straight, I deserve a tiny break before doing more work. When I get home, I go into the office and take a break. My mom thinks that I am doing homework, but there is no harm because it still gets done. My mom just told me that over spring break, we are going to Naples with our friends. I

Like Norma and Arthur didn’t know each other well, I think I didn’t really know my parent sometimes, even though they raised me, my mother always feels angry toward me. Sometimes during our conversations, I always can’t understand why she feels so angry and be angry to me. I am a person who likes to share everything with my parents, I like to talk with my mother, share my opinion with her about my studies, and my life. I enjoy that almost time. But, just like I said, sometimes when I talked to my mother, I told her some part she wasn’t good at, or our ideas are different, she will suddenly be angry to me when I didn’t realize. I always felt sad and aggrieved because she is my mother so why she can’t understand me. After we quarreled, mother always comes to say sorry to me. Whatever She did to me, she is not for herself, she did everything for me. Nobody is perfect, I can forgive she did to me because she is my mother. I think I didn’t really know my friends too, why do we have lots of things to talk at last moment and nothing to say at this moment?

My mom, merely two minutes into being home from work, is already yelling at me as she walks through the door over nothing. Someone passes me before the merge by the I and M canal and I start yelling at the arrogant person driving the silver Ford Focus. Annoyance by my sister is expressed as she tells me to shut up when I am apparently chewing my cereal too loud. Calling my family together to discuss our upcoming events at request by my mom, my brother’s irritation shows through an eye roll and deep sigh because he was briefly taken away from his Xbox game Call of Duty. I can hear my dad’s yelling escalating more and more with the increasing time that passes as he waits anxiously for the page on the computer to load. While attempting to work

Nothing brings people together more than language. As an international student, I noticed that more often than not, international students tend to befriend those with a common native language. Perhaps their common language makes it easier for them to communicate since they might not be comfortable with speaking English. Another possibility would be that sharing a language can also mean that they share a common way of thinking. Lera Boroditsky, an assistant psychology professor at Stanford University, wrote the article “How Does Our Language Shape the Way We Think?” to illustrate to her readers that language, whether it is grammar or just the general logic, does indeed affect how we think. Boroditsky and research teams in Stanford and MIT collected data from all over the world. Because of the extensive amount of research and her article’s solid structure, I find Boroditsky’s argument easy to follow and understand, therefore quite convincing. She is so knowledgeable in her area that her arguments and article are solid and build on top of each other like Tetris tiles. A well-written article can only be achieved by knowing and understanding your material well.

“Mom, I’ve already told you. I’m going out for the weekend,” I responded, yelling but my voice monotone.

Most questions of whether and how language shapes thought start with the simple observation that languages differ from one another. And a lot! Just look at the way people talk, they might say. Certainly, speakers of different languages must attend to strikingly different aspects of the world just so they can use their language properly.

“I know mom,” I respond, rolling my eyes in spite of myself, “but I really can’t get another tardy.” Just like that I’m running down the street through the early morning

When I was young my mother and my father both had very different opinions on how you should raise a child. And since my father was the one paying the bills and bringing home the paychecks for a few years, I didn’t really get to see him much because he worked all day. So my mother was the one who raised me for the most part. At the time she would spoil me like crazy. If I asked for something the answer would always be yes, and if I didn’t get my way I would start having a fit until she finally caved in. You could’ve called me a crybaby, go ahead I would’ve said the same thing. Because I was. My father’s best friend who had two twins both the same age as me invited me, my father and my mother over to there place for an easter egg hunt easter morning. During the easter egg hunt, me and my friend both turned a corner at the same time. He saw an egg and as he was going to grab it, I saw it and tried to get it also. He got there before me and I started to have a fit right there and then. I could remember my mother rushing up to see what’s wrong. After I told her what had happened she got me to stop crying and gave me extra candy. My dad knew that by her raising me like this I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere in life without someone being there whenever something went wrong, so he told her to take the candy back and to tell me to get over it and that not everything in life will be fair. She took that the wrong way and got mad at my dad for “not being a good parent” because didn’t