Tuesday, October 27, 2009

gabbing with Griffin

A month or two ago, Griffin and I had our first real conversation. Here's my attempt at a transcription/translation:

Maman: Tu t'es bien amusé à la garderie aujourd'hui? (Did you have fun at daycare today?)
Griffin: Yeah.
M: Qu'est-ce que tu y as fait? (What did you do there?)
G: Ami. (Friend.)
M: Tu as vu tes amis? (You saw your friends?)
G: Yeah.
M: Tu as joué avec tes amis? (Did you play with your friends?)
G: Tay-oh.
M: Tu as joué avec Mateo? (You played with Mateo?)
G: Wee-ah.
M: Tu as joué avec Sophia? (You played with Sophia?)
G: Yeah.
M: Qui d'autre? (Who else?)
G: Mah-choo.
M: Tu as joué avec Matthew? (You played with Matthew?)
G: Ami!!! (Friend!!!)

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

gee whiz!

Griffin's daycare follows a "curriculum" even in the toddler room. I kind of rolled my eyes when the teachers told me about the phonics program they use with the kids--I mean, they're less than two years old! Some of them don't even talk yet!

Griffin started bringing home worksheets like "Color the pictures that have an M in them." As you might imagine, his coloring skills are limited to the scrawls he makes in between sucking on the crayon. (Or, even worse, the magic marker.)

Yesterday, the teachers presented the letter G. After I picked Griffin up, we went to the grocery store. He was peering at my shopping list, which is from a notepad with a big colorful G printed in the corner, and he pointed to the letter and said "Cheee!"

"Cheese?" I asked. "Tu veux du fromage?"

"Cheee!"

"G?" I repeated, using the English name for the letter.

"Yeah. Cheee," he informed me matter-of-factly, and proceded to pluck my pen out of my hand and put it in his mouth. "Cheee."

Sunday, October 18, 2009

perspective

This quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson, which I copied into a notebook in college, resonates more and more with me:

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Maman wants the "week" of the little red corvette too!

While Griffin seems to understand and speak French and English fairly equally, he has a definite preference for songs in English. One of his favorite activities is to grab a songbook in English, climb into Daddy's lap, and say "More week! More week!" ("Week" is his rendering of "musique," pronounced "moo-seek" in French.)

Daddy, who makes up in enthusiasm what he lacks in vocal chops, then valiantly attempts to sing folk songs ("Polly Wolly Doodle"), children's songs ("Old McDonald"), Sunday school songs ("He's Got the Whole World"), and so forth to his adoring son. However, he often has to make up the tune, as these are songs that he doesn't remember or never heard as a child (and certainly not as an adult).

This situation, by the way, can lead to some very amusing performances, like when Daddy's "Little Red Caboose" sounds a lot like Prince's "Little Red Corvette."

I'm torn: I know a lot of these songs by heart and have happy childhood memories of singing them in the car, playing them on the piano, enduring my mother invent her own lyrics for existing tunes (I still cringe at the memory of "Camp Pretty Pond/Camp Pretty Pond/Hiking to the far beyond/At Camp Pretty Pond/See the leaders/See the girls/See the skeeters/See the squirrels/At Camp Pretty Pond/Camp Pretty Pond....").

So when I heard my husband struggling through "Oh Susannah," I yearned to join in and pluck the imaginary banjo on my knee too. But for months I held back, reminding myself that I was only going to speak French with Griffin. Seulement francais. Only. French.

For months, when Griffin brought me his songbooks, I would page through them, describing the pictures to him and telling him in French what each English song was about. He'd sit and listen, not protesting at the lack of "week," but not bouncing up and down and crying "yay!" and "more!" like he did with Daddy.

For months, I taught myself more children's songs in French. I realized that I had built up a substantial repertoire when during an hour-long drive, I sang to Griffin the whole way without repeating a song once. (Keep in mind that children's songs tend to be quite short!)

And finally, I decided to relax my rules: I don't have to feel like a bad bilingual mother if I let an English word or song slip in now and then. I like calling Griffin "darlin'." I like singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in a round with my hubby. I like teaching songs dear to my heart to both my boys. And I loved attending baby storytime--in English, of course--at the library!

Besides, thinking back to my childhood, I never felt confused that my mom sang an occasional song in another language to me. Griffin isn't going to object to Daddy joining in on "Alouette" or "Frere Jacques" (which begs to be sung as a round), so why would it be wrong for me to "Twinkle Twinkle" too?

While I still hardly ever sing an entire song in English to Griffin by myself, I no longer have a problem singing in English with other people around him. And now I too get the "yay!"s and the "more week!"s from him, every time. I have also Frenchified the lyrics to folk songs like "Clementine" and "Sweetly Sings the Donkey" and "The Wheels on the Bus" so that I can sing them to Griffin with abandon!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

talking toddler


Griffin's language use amazes us every day! Word nerd that I am, I've been tracking his linguistic development (with an oh-so-dorky spreadsheet so fun to update), so I can report with confidence that he has so far said 200 words on his own, 60% in English and 40% in French, mostly one at a time, but increasingly more two- and three-word phrases. It is SO fantastic that he can communicate his ideas to us now!

Of course, they're still a 20-month-old's ideas....

Chuh ch'aime Mommy! (aww, he loves me) Chuh ch'aime shoes! (and apparently, he also loves his footwear)
Happy gateau (cake)
More book more book more book more book (repeat ad infinitum while Maman and Daddy thank their lucky stars that they live only 100 yards from a public library)
Fini book moo (done reading Goodnight Moon)
Bye-bye neige (snow)

As well as a 20-month-old's tenuous grasp on mathematics as he "counts" his blocks:
Two, huit (8), neuf (9), dix (10), huit (8), onze (11), douche ("douze" is "twelve," while "douche" is "shower"), two....

(And then he screams "Yay!!!" as he applauds himself before starting to count all over again.)