Now that we have three talking children it's like the voices in my head have multiplied. Driving in the car I now have a 4 way channel of conversations -
Me, thinking - "What are we having for dinner, where do I have to be, when and what combination of equipment/ children/ clothing/shoes/ cash do I need, must remember to email/phone/text/yell/clean/scrub/move/put back/find the ...."
Big Brother and Little Brother -"And then, the droid army smashes Fluffy the puppy, but the puppy cries 'wah,wah, "" Yeah, and then the Ninja master with the black belt goes pow pow pow, " "No, the monster eats the puppy" 'NO, that was so awesome", "Thats what makes you beautiful"
And Little Miss - "Mamma, show you - bird!" "Mamma, show you - Ho-co-coca" (helicopter, but it took me a while to work out that one), "mamma - show you - digger". "mamma, TURN CORNER"...
Its overwhelming at times. Three little fizzing brains and one slower, more list-based one (when did I stop imagining stories in my head?) coming out with wonderful observations on the world.
It can get confusing - Little Miss has been asked - Do you want the blue one, or the green one (cup, shoe etc) so many times she thinks anything she wants is called "Blue-Red"
"BLUE-RED, BLUE-RED, ' she yells, pointing at the green cup. Or the cheese.
The boys consider everything to be Awesome - 'Its an awesomely rocket!'. After a swimming lesson where Little Brother sobbed the entire half hour, except for the part he was howling hysterically after getting water in his nose, he climbed out of the pool and greeted his brother with - 'That was awesome!'
And then there is the problem of the number of feet. In our house, we have three each - the left one, the right one, and of course the wrong one. Is this right? they ask - No, its wrong - put it on the left one. Is this the left one? No, its the right one, but also the wrong one....
Big Brother asked me "Mum, can I have one of those card things, you know, those card things that have credit, you know, a credit card?
And the other day he opened a conversation with -" Mum, you know how you don't like feeding us...."
Friday, March 30, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
English as a first language
Little Miss 2 is opening her mouth and a what seems like a torrent of words are coming out. One at a time, now and then strung together, coupled with lots of crinkled noses and perfectly sincere looks.
'Day? Work? Dadda?' she asks her father every evening.
'Yes, thanks darling, I had a nice day at work' he replies.
She is naturally tidy - 'Shoes. Off.' she tells visitors. 'Outside' (If they don't get the hint she picks the shoes up herself and flings them out the back door)
She is naturally bossy - 'BOYS !' she yells in their faces, 'Car! One...three...One...three'
She is naturally parroting her parents, and brothers - and yesterday chased her brother around yelling 'Bugger. Bugger.' We decided she was only reminding of his unfinished porridge, but there sure is a lot of things lost in translation.
She is testing out descriptive words - 'Hard' she said as she turned on the tap of the home brew barrel and it poured all into the boots and over the floor. 'Open. Biscuit. Stool. Where stool? Ahh, stool. Up. Biscuit. Open. Hard. Ahh, Loff!' (L-off as in fell-off, not to be mixed up with L-over)
Non verbal communication is no problem with her peers. One friend described her interacting in the sandpit with a boy, who was holding a sandy car in his sandy hands. Little Miss was holding the waterhose, and waited for the boy. When he was undecided about how to proceed, she looked exasperated, took the car from his hand and washed it, gave him back the car and washed his hands for him with the hose. Problem sorted, no language required.
The older boys have an increasing amazing grasp of language -and what they don't know they simply make up. One day Little Brother was helping me bake gingerbread bunnies, and we talked about dipping their ears in chocolate - 'yes, 'he declared, ' we could make chocolate bombs. You know, chocolate Vo-vos - Did you know Mum that Vo-vo is maori for bomb?'
(Needless to say I didn't know that)
Another day Big Brother and I were perusing the secondhand shop at the dump - I explained all this perfectly good stuff had been thrown into the rubbish by people - and he was amazed - 'You could throw out everything!' he exclaimed. 'Lets look really hard, Mum, and we might find something from (whispered in awe) : China!'
The one language that I refuse to tolerate though, is winge-ish. I have a tactic, and I can't remember if I copied it off some genius now unattributed, or I made it up in a mind numbing sleep deprived brilliant moment. Try doing this : When any of the children whine or complain, whinge or moan, or tanty, - first, keep a straight face - look really confused, then think for a while, perhaps jiggle your ear violently liked you've got a mosquito stuck in their. Then, dismiss them with a apologetic and slightly loud - 'Sorry, I don't understand.' If they try again with the whole 'wah-wah-wah-wahwah ' give them a cheerful, 'Nope, nope, I don't speak whinge-ish, only english - can you repeat that?'
Even a two year old can get the gist of this farce, and it feels so utterly superior in a teaching-a-valuable-life-lesson way.
'Day? Work? Dadda?' she asks her father every evening.
'Yes, thanks darling, I had a nice day at work' he replies.
She is naturally tidy - 'Shoes. Off.' she tells visitors. 'Outside' (If they don't get the hint she picks the shoes up herself and flings them out the back door)
She is naturally bossy - 'BOYS !' she yells in their faces, 'Car! One...three...One...three'
She is naturally parroting her parents, and brothers - and yesterday chased her brother around yelling 'Bugger. Bugger.' We decided she was only reminding of his unfinished porridge, but there sure is a lot of things lost in translation.
She is testing out descriptive words - 'Hard' she said as she turned on the tap of the home brew barrel and it poured all into the boots and over the floor. 'Open. Biscuit. Stool. Where stool? Ahh, stool. Up. Biscuit. Open. Hard. Ahh, Loff!' (L-off as in fell-off, not to be mixed up with L-over)
Non verbal communication is no problem with her peers. One friend described her interacting in the sandpit with a boy, who was holding a sandy car in his sandy hands. Little Miss was holding the waterhose, and waited for the boy. When he was undecided about how to proceed, she looked exasperated, took the car from his hand and washed it, gave him back the car and washed his hands for him with the hose. Problem sorted, no language required.
The older boys have an increasing amazing grasp of language -and what they don't know they simply make up. One day Little Brother was helping me bake gingerbread bunnies, and we talked about dipping their ears in chocolate - 'yes, 'he declared, ' we could make chocolate bombs. You know, chocolate Vo-vos - Did you know Mum that Vo-vo is maori for bomb?'
(Needless to say I didn't know that)
Another day Big Brother and I were perusing the secondhand shop at the dump - I explained all this perfectly good stuff had been thrown into the rubbish by people - and he was amazed - 'You could throw out everything!' he exclaimed. 'Lets look really hard, Mum, and we might find something from (whispered in awe) : China!'
The one language that I refuse to tolerate though, is winge-ish. I have a tactic, and I can't remember if I copied it off some genius now unattributed, or I made it up in a mind numbing sleep deprived brilliant moment. Try doing this : When any of the children whine or complain, whinge or moan, or tanty, - first, keep a straight face - look really confused, then think for a while, perhaps jiggle your ear violently liked you've got a mosquito stuck in their. Then, dismiss them with a apologetic and slightly loud - 'Sorry, I don't understand.' If they try again with the whole 'wah-wah-wah-wahwah ' give them a cheerful, 'Nope, nope, I don't speak whinge-ish, only english - can you repeat that?'
Even a two year old can get the gist of this farce, and it feels so utterly superior in a teaching-a-valuable-life-lesson way.
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