The war of words

« Lapin. »

« Bunny. »

« No, lapin. »

This is a conversation in my back seat.  Alex, a little over two years old, is surfing two languages.  His sister, 11, is trying to get him to say “bunny” which he actually knew how to say first and pronounces with an American slurring of the n’s- buhh-ny!  Big sis has already gone through the same stages of language learning but doesn’t remember when she too had to juggle with two words for everything.

I am not the only mom dealing with two languages at home and the trials and troubles and funny moments it brings.  There are beaucoup articles about this now, one very poignant and real that just came out recently about a Canadian mom with Polish origins living in London trying to teach her young son Polish.  Each time I find such an article, I eat up every word.  Not only is it a reflection of my own daily “struggle” but as a self-proclaimed lover of languages, it is fascinating.

You can say all you want about how bilingual folks may avoid dementia in later life.  Or that we may be able to problem solve or see things differently by having two languages to do it in.  But what interests me the most lately is the feeling behind those words- the cultural and emotional load in them. 

Just as the author of that article mentioned, each word “conquered” in the minority language (in our house, English) seems like a victory for me.  I can’t help but smiling more and encouraging more when my kids come up with English words and expressions.  And maybe it’s also because those new words come through special situations, like during our vacation back home, when my family comes to visit, or reading English books at bedtime. 

Which brings us back to the famous “buhh-ny”.  This one started with an adorably illustrated book called Happy Easter Bunny.  My aunt sent it to Juliette when she was younger and now I read it to Alex and say enthusiastically at the end, “it’s bunny!” when we discover he has been hiding Easter eggs for his mouse friend.  Alex imitates the tone when he says it in other situations, and yes, that tickles me. 

And though I know very well my kids must learn French to survive in this country, would you believe me if I almost feel down when I hear how many French words my little one is saying?!  He goes to daycare with twenty other kids and hears French words all day from the nursery workers.  It’s only natural he is learning all the animals in French and nursery rhymes in that language too.  It’s illogical for me to be jealous but that’s sort of the feeling.  So when he says “cochon” for pig I am happy he has learned a new word.  I say, “yes, cochon.  And “pig” in English.” 

That is how a lot of my conversations go in this house.  I repeat what my kids say in French and then say it in English.  Or in Juliette’s case, she often tells me about her day in French and I ask her follow-up questions in English. 

Perhaps that explains this recent exchange with Alex, growing up in a bilingual house.  The other night at dinner as we were watching the news, he started saying “mion” and I couldn’t figure out what he meant.  He repeated with the missing first syllable to say “camion” then repeated in English for me, “truck” (or “tuck” in his case, hey, he’s getting there).  Was he figuring out that when someone doesn’t understand the word one way, he needs to switch to the other? It’s a lot for a toddler to handle, but he is managing, just as his sister did. 

I hope Alex will learn to love both his languages like she does, too.  At 11 she can do a passable British or Australian accent though when she speaks she is decidedly American because of me.  And I felt like doing a dance when she started using  the expression “turns out” repeatedly when describing some drama that happened at school.  Thanks to watching Glee she has picked up on some typical expressions (oh, and a few not so great ones like “to make out”). 

All in all this process takes time but seeing how well my first child managed, I shouldn’t worry too much about little Alex.  We’ll get there, one word at a time.  And we’ll try to enjoy the ride or should I say “voyage”. 

Jet lag of the heart

If you’ve ever crossed a few time zones you know what jet lag feels like.  That sensation that it should be earlier or later than it is.  That the light sure seems odd for this time of day.  Go from the US to Europe (or vice versa) and your stomach will wake you at 4 a.m.  Or when you get up from a nap you can’t recognize your own room as it’s been three weeks since you slept there.  It messes with your body and mind and makes you beg for more sleep or a cure for insomnia, as the case may be.

But to add a bit of fun to the mix, when you have returned from visiting family, you get a case of jet lag of the heart, as well.  Air travel brought you home in 8 hours flat but your brain is still swimming in the home vibes.  You think you can just turn around and tell your mom or aunt something.  You think you can just see your sister next weekend instead of next year. 

This second kind of jet lag is more insidious.  Once the physical stress of skipping 7 time zones has left you, the sight of a Target bag or a jingle in your head from an ad back home can make your eyes smart again.  More than nostalgia for home, this sort of soul ache reminds me it will be a while before I am back home.

Leaving one’s family and country and culture behind all in one go is hard on a human body and soul.  I should be a pro at it now, after 17 years.  And if I cry less with time and experience, now my daughter cries more.  She is starting to understand just how far away America is.  She knows that two years between visits is a very long time (even if we are lucky to get some visits our way in between). 

To see her break down in tears a few days after our return is hard for me to watch.  I do my best to console her and extol the virtues of FaceTime and phone calls (trying to convince myself at the same time).  And when she asks me why I didn’t just stay in America and marry someone there, I have to remind her that I wouldn’t have *her* if that were the case.  And I wouldn’t have her brother.   Who by the way doesn’t seem to show too many signs of this” love lag”, though he may well be as sensitive as his sister and me.  Time will tell.

And as I must do every time, I try to get back into my routine, remember the things I *do* enjoy about being in France.   I putter in my garden and try to plan cozy moments with the bi-cultural little family that is mine here.  And I hope (in vain) that one day they will come up with a cure for this jet lag of the heart.  

Travelling with toddlers: or just leave them at home??

Being a mom requires moments of extreme bravery.  Like taking your baby who is burning up with fever to the ER on a Sunday night.  Or overcoming your fear of blood to put rolled up cotton in your daughter's nostril when she has a nose bleed .  Or taking a road trip with a toddler.

Be brave, my friends, it is doable, with a little preparation and a lot of snacks.  I recently tried the following tips out while traveling with a nearly seventeen-month old (and my highly-spirited ten-year old).


In the car

Try to time your road trip with a nap time. and if not, make sure someone who can play with him (nicely) is next to him

Bring his favorite books and toys in the car, for those moments he is resisting sleep and his car-mate has lost interest in entertaining him.

Play kid-friendly or bouncy music to distract him when he starts crying.  It might not put him to sleep but at least he will start dancing and get in a better mood.

In the hotel

Do check that the hotel has a crib/cot available.  Many places will provide one for free or for a small fee.  Or bring your own portable playpen just in case!

Bring his favorite bedtime book to keep his nighttime ritual going in the hotel. But be prepared for some choppy nights as little ones don't always adapt well to new surroundings.

Bring a portable booster chair in case high chairs are not available in the hotel or restaurant.  There are some small, portable, fabric models available on the market.

Out and about

 When you see a playground, give her free time.  The more they play and run, the happier they will be and the more tired out too!

Schedule some kid-friendly activities like petting zoos and parks where kids can walk and interact. Under 5s could care less about architecture and cathedrals in general so don't pack only these types of events into your trip.

Know your limits. The world is not always stroller-friendly. If you or dad have to let the rest of the family climb the steps to the castle while you hang out with baby, so be it.  There will be other opportunities.  But as I mentioned in the last tip, do find some kid-friendly fun to break up the more boring (from a kid's POV) sightseeing.




Eating out

Snacks, snacks and snacks! Restaurants can seem insanely long from a toddler's perspective.  Finger foods (like sweet potato puffs) are great for distracting little ones while their own food is heated up or if the grown-ups' meal takes longer (oh and it will)!


BYOC. If only every restaurant had the wisdom to provide crayons and coloring pages for its youngest patrons! But alas, many don't think about them so Bring Your Own Crayons.  And a notepad while you're at it, to make the wait for the others' meals seem less tedious.

In the end, go with the flow and try to enjoy yourself, too!  There is no reason to give up all travel until your child is out of the terrible twos (and threes and fours).  Anyway, if they do have a melt-down, just remember this- you will most likely never have to see any of the people around you that day ever again!