Proof is in the bilingual pudding

Anyone who reads this blog knows that I am intrigued (obsessed?) and proud of my bilingual 3 year old. Up until now, I've written down examples of what she says but here for the first time, drum roll please, is Suzanne showing her stuff in a short video in French where she serenades her baby brother and a longer video (3 minutes - you've been warned!) in English in which she tells a story to my mother. Both of these videos were taken back in August after 3 weeks of intense English with my mother.

A little background for anyone who might be reading this for the first time, we're raising our children in an OPOL home. Suzanne has been in a French environment 80% of the time (since I work full time). At home, she hears me speaking English; we have some English speaking friends who we see about once a week; we watch TV and read books in English.

Since she's started school, her French is taking over certain parts of her speech, but I am still so really very proud of my little girl.

'appy alowine 2009

Once again, it's Halloween in France; and once again this year, I'm a little confused by the Hallowee, roller coaster. Is it here or not? My local supermarket is selling pumpkins for jack o'lanterns (advertised as such) right next to a display of Haribo candy specially packaged for Halloween. the beauty supply store down the street has a window display with pumpkins, spiders and cans of hair paint. Yet. Yet...where is Halloween?

This year, I will not be caught off guard as I have been in the past. I bought candy for the eventual, straggling trick or treater, no matter how rude or not (see previous Halloween experiences). And we are going to my friend's almost annual Halloween party with repleat with apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and loads of candy.

I even sewed a costume for Suzanne.

I just wish I could go trick or treating....

Peter Mayle has provided some 'alowine food for thought in his recent op ed in the New York Times. A good and accurate account of Halloween in France

école or not école

école=school. Right? Apparently not.

I mean I still haven't gotten all the French educational jargon down. From petite section to CM2 to CP to sixième or terminal, who could understand it without actually having lived it?

So the other day as we were driving past a école in the neighborhood, I asked Jerome in French (something that is rare these days), "so is that suzanne's next école?" (since it's not the one she's in now). He said, no that it was an école like hers now. And I said but it's not a college (middle school); He said no, it's a groupe scolaire (which apparently is a école maternelle et école primaire under the same roof ie elementary school). So I asked where her next école was to which he replied that after her école it's not école anymore. Confused? Me too...

Apparently what they teach you in French class is wrong. école is only the beginning after which point it's not longer école which I thought was the general term for, um, school...

So how do you say school? Or is that just too American of me to try to simplify or even understand? After 12 years of living here, when you think you finally got it, you just don't.

(And have you ever noticed that many of the French words beginning with é have an s at the beginning in English? éponge (sponge), épargner (spare), éparpiller (scatter), école (school)....)

caca boudin prout

As suspected, school has given Suzanne a much wider vocabulary and stronger grammar in french.

Over the past couple weeks, we've noticed that she is beginning to make more complicated sentences using prepositions and even using some past participles, correctly some of the time; I'm still trying to take a back seat in regards to her French but it's hard not to notice when your child is speaking to you in a foreign lanuage and she's speaking better than you ever will even after living here for a dozen years.

But her English seems to be following the French increase which is both interesting and a relief. A couple days ago, she said to me, "where's the toy I was playing with this morning?" That makes mama proud ;)

But more than grammar, there is an increase in vocabulary. Particular vocabulary that usually has to do with body functions. A couple days ago, her "amoureuse" (he's actually a boy but she can't get around to using the masculin form) and she were having a conversation that went something like this, "Je peux faire un petit pipi sur toi? et un petit caca? Je peux faire un petit caca sur Max?" and then it continued along the lines of "caca boudin" (kiddy language which literally means poopy sausage but is a kid swear word). By the end of the evening, I caught them on the couch saying, "oh putain" (oh, fuck). Um, yeah. It had to start somewhere.

Although I love discussing excrement and all, my favorite part of her language skills right now are the made up things. Since her French is becoming so good, and her English exposure is limited, she is making up lots of words and trying to find ways around what she wants to say but can't. So she often says at the moment, "I can't remember" or "I don't know what it's called" or she just makes something up when she forgets a word. This morning on the way to school, she told me her "tummybelton" was cold. And the other day coming back from school when she couldn't figure out how to say that she's tired from thinking or learning at school, she said "school makes my head tired".

It makes my head tired too.

Food for thought

A long long while ago, I wrote about the French babyfood exception. Obviously French babies do not eat like their culinary inferiors in the rest of the world. Yes, they eat mush. Yes, it is often unidentifiable. Yes, it is made by huge multinationals. But, apparently, the unidentifiable mush is actually much more sophisticated than simple carrots and peas (although what I tasted was vile).

And don't think that it stops when the kids leave the nest! Every afternoon since Suzanne started school, I've asked her what she ate for lunch. She usually chooses not to remember so I have to guess by spots on her clothes or clumps in her hair. Or, once in a while, she'll tell me it was purét (her englishization of purée which is mashed taters) or just meat or fish.

So today I finally decided to look at the menu. Earlier in the week, my child ate pasta with brocoli. Today she will be lunching on veal marengo, fresh fruit and cheese soufflé. And tomorrow she will be having seafood paella. This is a long way from the soggy pizza and chocolate milk you see at American school cafeterias (although Monday was steack haché aka hamburger without the bun).

Food for thought... literally.

On Dora

Ever since Suzanne began speaking. No wait, ever since Suzanne was born I've possibly been a little too worried about her being bilingual and if/how her language skills would progress. After 3 years, I should feel a bit relieved, right? But i seem to constantly be on my toes, waiting for her to turn to me and say, "Mom, je veux parler comme Papa" (I want to speak like Papa). But, so far, she doesn't cease to amaze me. That's also part of being 3 years old though. A lot of jaw dropping. A lot of snickering behind the kid's back...

With school being well underway, her English doesn't seem to be suffering in the least. And why should it? I mean, it's not like she's spending more time away from me than she ever has. In fact, the school schedule leaves us more time together than her nanny schedule did. The difference is the amount of conversational French she's getting in such a social environment. Peer pressure begins young...

But I have noticed some interesting language phenomena going on. Whether it's age or French or just language, I'm not sure.

For some reason, she has decided not to use posessive and personal pronouns in English. Instead she replaces them with subject pronouns like, "Where is shes toy?" or in response to me asking who will do something, she answers "I" instead of me.

She's also crossing her language wires in French where she uses English structure in French sentences like ,"Papa, tu peux donner ça à moi" (Papa, you can give that to me) instead of "tu peux me donner ça".

But she's clearly not phased (at this point) by the bilingual thing - and still not questioning it although I'm sure that's to come. What school has given her is more confidence and a sense of irony.

On our way home the other day, she asked the question any intelligent parent would dread, "Mom, can I watch Dora?" I answered as diplomatically as possible, "well, Mommy doesn't really like Dora". Suzanne hesitated and said, "Mom, can you leave me alone so I can watch Dora?" She applies the same negotiation tactics to eating, sleeping and wiping herself.

She's also begun expressing emotions much better. She tells us when she's said as in "I'm sad so and so said no" (translation: I'm sad Max is sitting on your lap). Or "I like Papa" in response to whether she wants me to bring her to school (translation: I'm pissed off at you for having a baby). I just wish she'd stop that year old whining thing! It's enough to make you want to bang your head against a wall.

As for Max, I realized that if Suzanne continues to speak to me in English and she does indeed speak English to him like she told me she would, he'll have an advantage...fingers crossed.

PS I also caught Suzanne saying, "Attends pour moi", literally "wait for me". In French, there's no preposition after this particular verb.

Being American is...

embarrassing.

empowering.

annoying.

a pain in the ass.

all of the above.

The thing about being American is that many many people think they know everything about your country, think there's nothing interesting about your culture (haha, what culture?!) and that you are probably rich and overconfident.

It's really annoying to be the other kind of American and to hear anti-American slander followed by, "but you're different." And it's really annoying when you really do have something to contribute but no one will let you do it because they think you couldn't possibly have something to say. And it's really annoying that people think American culture doesn't exist or isn't interesting because there are so many Americas and so many cultures.

Blame it on Hollywood and bad American TV.

What brings on this rant you may ask? Why am I ranting when I could be napping and recovering from a string of hellish nights? On Saturday, Jerome went to a meeting at Suzanne's school (while I stayed home and took a bath. In my dreams). Suzanne's teacher talked about putting up a world map and doing activities from all over the world; after each activity, she'd show the kids where it came from. She talked about the Japanese mother; she talked about the Australian father; she didn't mention me although I offered to teach the kids some English songs....

Two weeks ago, I proposed to come and do a Halloween activity but she said, "that's not really part of the French culture." I thought that was a weird response but it is her class and it is her curriculum. She did think it was a good idea for me to come in and teach the kids a song they could sing in front of the whole school and I gladly accepted (Suzanne has voted for "open shut them").

It wasn't until Saturday's meeting that I realized why I was left feeling odd after our conversation since we all know aboriginals and origami are an intrinsic part of French culture. So, Suzanne's teacher seems great but she's unfortunately under the influence of Hollywood. Too bad for her.

PS Mom, I proofread but am too tired to catch all the mistakes.