Fun. Bilingual. Literary. Life.

This post is being written for the February Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism, which, for this month, is being hosted by Jen at Perogies and Gyoza. For those of you who are new to the carnival, it was initiated by Letizia, at Bilingue per Gioco, and serves as a spectacular community for those of us interested in and embarking upon raising our children with more than one language. 

From time to time, topic suggestions are made for the carnival, primarily to serve as inspiration for those in need of ideas. This month's idea was literacy. As much as I love the topic, Kaya has been supremely sweet over the past week, and I'm finding that, other than one little literary anecdote, most of what I have to share has nothing at all to do with reading. Instead, it's a little snapshot of our budding bilingual at 3, and similarly serves to demonstrate how much fun life really is with her these days...

I'll at least start with the suggested topic. Last week, she and I were in the rocker reading "Ferkel kann nicht Schlafen," [Piglet can't Sleep]--a story out of the collection called Winnie Puuh, Geschichten zur guten Nacht [Winnie the Pooh, Good Night Stories]. We'd read half of the first page, and as Pooh begins to advise Piglet that honey may be the answer, Kaya cuts in to share her insight: "Das ist Ferkel," [That is Ferkel] she says, pointing at Piglet. "In engwisch ist das Pigwet." [In English, that's Piglet]. That's right, I tell her, smiling proudly. Even though she's made it clear in the past that she's aware of the difference between the two languages, I'm still shocked every time when she brings it to our attention--esp. as often as she's mentioning it these days. At the table the other day, I said something, in German, in regards to what Geoff would say if he were there with us. "Aber das wuerde in Engwisch sein," [But that would be in English], she said.

As I mentioned a few months ago, one of the pieces of her bedtime routine is telling Kaya a story after we read her a book (or two). She loves this part SO much, and will often request which story she wants us to tell her. From Dada, her favorite story of late is "The Mischievous Troll"--a little ditty that Geoff created about a rascally troll who lives under a bridge and delights in scaring the animals that come his way ("he's really just lonely," Geoff adds, "and is trying to get them to play with him."). I noticed that I was dreading this part of bedtime, and would attempt to either pass it off to Geoff, or skip right to singing our songs. She has come to love hearing these stories so much that it's no longer an option for me to get around it. The other night, I realized that I didn't have to use the creativity that I felt I was lacking--but instead, could tell her stories of my childhood. Excited about my epiphany, I began to tell her the story of my 8th birthday, when I had a sleepover with my closest friends. The highlight of that party, from what I recall today, was attempting to make ice cube soda pops. We poured all the soda into the trays, put them in the freezer, and while we waited for our delectable treat, got foot massages from my mom. Later that evening, when we went back to check on the popsicles, I discovered that my sister, and her best friend Lisa, had drunk ALL of the soda from the trays. "Ich war so boese auf meine Schwester," [I was so mad at my sister] I explained to Kaya. "Ich war traurig, und aufgeregt, und so wuetend." [I was sad, and upset, and angry.] On the second night that I told her this story (the night that she requested "die Geschichte von deiner Geburtstag" [the story of your birthday], Kaya cut me off as I got to the part about my feelings. So eager to help make it better, she calmly told me, "Du koenntest sie fragen, 'Bitte nicht meine Soda trinken.' " [You could ask her, Please don't drink my soda.] Hearing her interjection makes me realize how much problem solving Kaya does lately, especially when it comes to working out emotional challenges. Lately, I've been focusing on applying strategies that I'm reading in The Whole-Brain Child--an amazing parenting, book by Siegel and Bryson, which I can't say enough about (there's another literary point for my post!). Kaya's comment leads me to believe, among other actions I've seen in her lately, that their suggestions are working, and that her brain is becoming integrated...(yes!!!).

Now that Kaya is growing into some independence, there are certain aspects of the day that have become pretty blissful. First of all, with the ability and willingness to entertain and 'take care of herself' for long periods at a time, sleeping in a bit is somewhat of a possibility when I'm lucky enough to help it happen. Of course, some serious support is needed from Dada, in the way of getting her the milk that she's been insisting on first thing. I didn't know if it would extend the time that I could lounge in bed, but when it hit me that Geoff could pour a sippy cup of milk and have it ready for her when she wakes up, I definitely jumped on the idea to see if it would do the trick. Indeed, it did...and on those wondrous mornings where she actually wakes up before he leaves, and he has time to get her some yogurt...my lounge time is even longer. (Ahh, the beauty of being at home with evening work hours. I know how fortunate I am--have no fear. I don't go too long without recognizing how much of a wonderful thing I have going here...!)

This weekend, Geoff was in Vegas, so he naturally wasn't available to play waiter for me and Miss K. As she awoke at 7:15, I glanced at my watch and hoped I'd squeak in a few more winks before she uttered the expected request. Keeping my eyes closed, I offered my hand so she could climb into the bed to snuggle in close, as she often does first thing upon waking. Blanket over us both, I did what I could to keep my mind from hearing, and thus creating, what I knew would soon leave her mouth. Quiet mind, quiet mind, Tamara. Focus on what you want. This worked for at least two minutes, and then it came: "Ich wiw Miiiiiusch..." [Ich will Milch = I want miiiilk.] Sometimes, with the advent of that morning whine, I say nothing, hoping that feigning sleep will trick the closest 3 year old (sometimes it does!). On other occasions, however, I attempt to guide her into a more gentle request process, coaching her in how she might ask without whining (thank you, Siegel and Bryson!). On that fine Friday, however, I thought I'd attempt to teach her to say 'good morning' before making her initial request of the day. Being super sleepy as I was, I recognize that my teaching strategy may not have been optimal, which may account for what she said in response:

Kaya: Ichwiw Miiiiusch...[I want miiiiillllk]

Mama: Sag bitte, 'Guten Morgen' zuerst [Please say Good Morning first...]

Kaya: Bitte Guten Morgen zuerst. [Please good morning first.]

The best part: there wasn't even a hint of sarcasm in her little 3-yr-old voice.

The day before, Kaya was lying in bed next to me, snuggling in with her face to close to mine. She began to gently stroke my face, which, of course, made me beam inside. As soon as she asked me, "Magst du das, wenn ich dich streichele?" [Do you like it when I rub your face?], I couldn't resist taking her in my arms and kissing her all over. Our mom used to stroke our faces like that, too (and kiss us all over, too!)--a point I tend to forget since it's become such a habit of mine with Kaya. When my sister came to visit in November, however, it was such a wonderful reminder to see her stroking Kaya's face in the exact same way that our mom used to do to with us.

Speaking of Mamas, this little story was shared with me last week by my sister-in-law, 'Tante Goolie'. In August, she's going to have a baby, and we're all very excited. "...After the ultrasound, I took the pics over to show Mom...I showed Kaya the pictures and she could see the picture of the baby's hand really clearly. I told her it was a picture of the baby growing in my tummy. Then, as I was showing mom the pictures, Kaya came over, stood in front of me, and very gently and lovingly put her hand on my tummy. I thanked her and told her that was a really nice love for the baby. :)"

There are a couple more conversations that I'd love to share before wrapping up this rather random post. Last week, while at Swapnplay, Kaya approached me with a computer keyboard in her hand. She'd found it in the 'big kids room' and ended up bringing it out to play with it (it's intended purpose). "Willst du computen, Mama?" [Do you want to compute, Mama?] she asked me, clearly unaware that she'd just created a new verb in the German language.

And that afternoon, while she and I were eating lunch at the table, she engages me in the following conversation:

Kaya: Ich bin fertig. [I'm done.]

Mama: OK, steig runter. [OK, climb down.]

Kaya: Nein, ich muss zuerst fragen. [No, I have to ask first.]

I can't help but smile. We've been "working" on her asking before she leaves the table.

Mama: OK, frag. [OK, ask.]

Kaya: Mama, darf ich runter? [Mama, can I get down?] (Can you hear the sweet tone?!)

Mama: Ja, natuerlich. [Yes, of course.]

Kaya: Danke. [Thanks.] (beginning to roll off her tongue now, yay for manners!)

Reliving all of these experiences here reminds me of how much fun we're having with Kaya these days. Thinking back on my days when I'd get so upset to hear her speak English (because she woudn't speak German with me!), it's so wonderful to be in this place now where I truly enjoy listening to her speak in both languages. I continue to be amazed at her fluency, how she flips back and forth effortlessly, and how, to me, she kind of seems like a different kid in each language. Sometimes I wonder if her English is still a little stronger than her German--her sentences seem a bit longer and like they may roll of her tongue a little faster, especially when she's creating complicated sentences (like this one that she said to Geoff last night during dinner: "Could I have a towel...a wet towel...one of the orange ones...so I can wash my hands?"--she hates having dirty hands...can ya blame 'er?!). But who knows...that's just my subjectivity speaking. Either way, she's fluent. Mission accomplished. All those months, those years of doubt, of wanting to give up, of wondering if it would work, and alas...it did. Thank you is what wants to come out first. Without you, blogging community, I really really wouldn't have made it. Without a doubt. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I thought of one more thing to share on the topic of 'literacy': Leo Lausemaus is the greatest! He's got to be the cutest illustrated mouse in existence, and for our young German speaker, the topics are perfect. The books that we have, which I brought home from Germany, are Leo Lausemaus will sich nicht die Zaehne putzen [...doesn't want to brush his teeth] and Leo Lausemaus sagt nicht die Wahrheit [...doesn't tell the truth]--both of which have made a difference in her actions.  I'm eager to have the others that address other areas of life that have similarly proven themselves a challenge (or soon might): 

• Leo Lausemaus hat schlechte Laune [...is in a bad mood]
  
• Leo Lausemaus will nicht in den Kindergarten [...doesn't want to go to Pre-school]
  
• Leo Lausemaus will nicht schlafen [...doesn't want to sleep]
  
• Leo Lausemaus, Mama geht zur Arbeit [...Mama goes to work]
  
• Leo Lausemaus will nicht essen [...doesn't want to eat]
  

Each of these books addresses these little life dilemmas in a manner that is appealing to both mama and babe. Kaya can't get enough, and when we finish reading Leo, we both linger at the end of the book and woo over the other titles: "Ich wiw dieses und dieses...und dieses..," [I want this one, and this one...and this one!] Kaya will often say. I don't know if these books have been translated, but if so, I highly recommend checking them out, esp. for the younger crowd. Super worth it!

Breaking my Silence with her Twinkles and Tantes

It's past my bedtime--as it usually is when I finally find the time to write--but I realized that it's been SO long since I've written...and I don't like being so removed from this wonderful little blogging community for so long, so here I go. Bedtime be damned.

I don't really know what I have to say...I'm racking my brain for something, for some story to share about our sweet little thing. Her language is incredible these days...she continues to speak to each of us in German and English, respectively, and rarely mixes. I'm not sure how it is at the German Saturday School, where she's been attending since we got back from Germany in November--but I assume she doesn't mix her languages much there, either. Every once in a while, I hear her start a sentence in English with me, but she quickly switches over to German as soon as she processes that she's talking to me. It's also really fun that she speaks English with Kensa, our dog--yet another opportunity for her brain to practice switching from one to the next. "Ich habe ihr gesagt, dass sie rausgehen soll," [I told her that she needs to go out], she told me yesterday, as she let her out the front door.

Now I'm reminded of a little story to share. She's been really into naming her "friends" lately--which is fun, because for the longest time, many of her stuffed animals didn't have a name. It's funny because that's often the first thing that people ask her. "What's your monkey's name?" they'll ask, seeking a reply. She often remains quiet, however, causing them to rephrase the question: "Does your monkey have a name?" Until my family came for Thanksgiving, her favorite monkey (the stand-in for most girls' baby) was nameless. Now, however, he's Marvin, named after my uncle and dad's brother in California. And there's Ellie, the giraffe, who was named by Craig when he came to visit. I think he helped name both giraffes, though the other name is escaping me at the moment. The names that Kaya comes up with on her own aren't your run-of-the-mill Suzie or Bobby, or even Tigger or Stripes. Instead, she names them after people in her life that are important to her. The other day, for instance, Kaya told me that "Tante Gaymie (she still struggles with her j sound) schlaeft noch." [Aunt Jamie is sleeping still]. I thought it was a bit strange that she not only knew that our neighbor was still asleep at 11am on a Tuesday, but that she would bring it up so randomly while we were in the bathroom. I passed it off, probably partly in my own world at the time. But when she said it again later, it became clear to me that she was referring to her baby--the one with the eye that won't quite close while it's lying down. Yesterday, while she and Geoff were cleaning out the van (anyone want to buy our '93 Eurovan poptop?!), she was driving him to zoo where they were going to look at the zebras and elephants. I was in the backseat, at that point, as she wanted me to go to the zoo with them. Before driving off, however, Kaya made it clear that she needed to get "Auntie Sara", and she quickly turned from the steering wheel to grab, from the other seat, the turquoise chinchilla (the one that Cannon Beach Sarah had given her last summer). "Auntie Sara" in hand, and Tante Gamie asleep in her room, we sped off to the zoo, with Kaya at the wheel, where we saw not only purple anteaters but the troll under the bridge playing hide and seek with his favorite blanket (Pooh on one side, dragonfly on the other).

In addition to that little story, I took a little video of Kaya singing "Funkel-Funkel" (Twinkle-Twinkle) the other day. I started the video a bit after she starts...but she starts over at one point, so you can hear the beginning, too. Also, if you listen closely, you can hear her say the phrase that she consistently mixes: "Be leise" [be quiet], as she tells me not to sing ("nicht singen!"). At the end, as at the end of most of our videos these days, you can hear her eagerly asking to see the video ("I wiw den Video sehn").

So, for now, I'll leave you with that, and swear I'll be back sooner next time. Writing rocks.

Funkel, funkel kleiner Stern, 

Alle sehen dich so gern

Sendest Licht in unsere Welt, 

Ein Diamant am Himmelszelt, 

Funkel, funkel, kleiner Stern, 

Alle sehen dich so gern!

(for another version, with different lyrics--and not quite as mellow:)

Angels and Devil's Hole

I've never been a huge fan of New Year's Eve. There's all this build up to do something cool to celebrate the upcoming year and then, sha-zam, the clock strikes, the minute passes, and the next year is upon us. Just like that. In the past, I've hated the pressure to celebrate--and even worse, how lame I felt if I didn't do something that either I, or other people, deemed as celebration-worthy. Like going to bed, for instance. Or even worse: Babysitting at 16. 

Now, as much as it isn't necessarily my favorite holiday, it provides the perfect excuse to get together with friends and go to the woods for the weekend, which, as dog owners, serves as the key to a nice, relaxing, dog-drool free weekend.

It was a wonderful weekend up at our cabin, full of snow-covered trees and squeals of laughter. It was just the six of us...plus 3 halves: Kaya, Arletta and Finn. All singletons, at least for now. Maybe if I start this 'Singleton-Society', as I dream of doing some day, I can convince them to 'ward off' any future child-bearing thoughts (I best leave that topic for another day, though, lest I be lynched by my beloved lingual community, thinking that I have something against anyone with more than one child).

What I really wanted to share was this surreal comment that Kaya made as we were driving away from the cabin last night. I had been telling Geoff, from the passenger seat as he was driving, about how Kaya reminds me, lately, of myself as kid. I remember how eager I used to be to talk to my mom, to tell her story after story and have her listen to me with no distractions. I remembered getting so frustrated when my sister would interrupt, or when it seemed like my mom wasn't listening (which was rare), just as Kaya screeched yesterday in the car when I would translate for Geoff or share with him my impressions. I was telling him about this shift that I've noticed in Kaya. She's talking so much, through much longer sentences, and with more direction and purpose. She's also so aware these days, more so than ever before. She's always seemed to be pretty observant, but now she seems to be taking more of a role in life around her, as opposed to living in her own world in the middle of ours. 

As we were cleaning the cabin, for example, getting ready to leave, she was looking for her socks without my having asked her to help find them. "Ist mein grossen Affen in dem Auto," [Is my big monkey in the car?] she asked, as well, concerned that we not leave him behind. She even grabbed the dust pan, at one point, and brought it over to the pile that I'd just swept, insistent that I let her help. Dust pan holding she can definitely do, I told myself, resistant to her help because I just wanted to get the job done. But when I finally relented and gave her the broom, she actually succeeded in sweeping up the mess into the pan that I was holding, as opposed to making a bigger mess like I thought she'd make. 

Earlier that day, as we were hiking to and from Devil's Hole and the lower hot springs, Kaya was in constant conversation with me from the Ergo on my back, telling me about all sorts of things that were going through her mind, including many descriptions of actions that had happened in her recent past ("Gestern haben wir..." [Yesterday, we...]). At one point, in fact, I remember Heather saying something to me, unaware that Kaya had been talking to me. I asked Heather to hold on a minute, wanting to make sure that Kaya felt heard, so that she could at least finish the story that she was sharing. 

So anyway, as I'm sharing some of these thoughts with Geoff, particularly the ones about how Kaya reminds me so much of me as a kid, Kaya says the following: 

"Wenn Nana weggeht...du pickst* sie ab, und tragst sie in den Armen..." 

[When Nana goes away, you pick her up and carry her in your arms...]

I was shocked and couldn't believe she'd just said what she did.

"Was hast du gesagt, Kaya?" [What did you say?]

She squealed in frustration, as she sometimes does when I ask her to repeat herself, but then said the same thing over again, in the same way, with the same words and the same pauses.

I looked at Geoff, and he at me.Our thoughts were the same. 

Did she really just say that? Really?

I don't know what it meant. 

And those of you who know that Nana died last year, and that Kaya had only ever experienced a very sick Nana, can surely understand my perplexity. 

Is my daughter an angel? Does she think that I am? Do I even believe in angels? Does she?

Technically, it all means nothing, right? I mean, her words clearly point to some understanding, or lack thereof, that she has...but any meaning that I put on it is just that: created meaning. I suppose I could have asked her what she meant by that, but the surreality of her words just left me wanting to remain in awe of what she'd just said.

After a bit of silence, processing her words through the dark forest, I decided that I wanted to play the 'song association game' with Geoff. What's that, he asked, and I proceeded to tell him the rules of my newly created game. Kaya was eager to play, too, and after Geoff and I had sung a few song snippets, Kaya shared with us what she'd been working on in the backseat. She had clearly been practicing a bit, at least in her head, for when I finally busted out my phone to capture the cuteness on video, her renditions were nearly the same--the first, second, and 3rd times she was willing to sing for us. For those of you who are more savvy in English than in German, here are the 'lyrics' to what I call,

The Cabin Song
by Kaya Staton 

Wir gehen nach Hause un [we're going home and]
Wir putzen wir die Zaehne en [we're going to brush we our teeth an']
wir haben gegessen [we ate]
wir haben geschlafen und getrinken...[we slept and drinked]
Clapping...YAY!

Mama: Ja wohl! Hast du noch ein Lied fuer uns? [Yay. Do you have another song for us?]
Kaya continues: 
Wir gehen nach Hause und [we're going home and]
putzen wir die Zaehne...[brushing we our teeth]
Kaya, talking: Ich kann dieses Lied lernen. [I can learn this song...]
Mama: Bitte? [What?]
Kaya: Ich kann dieses Lied lernen. [I can learn this (or that) song.]
Mama: Oh, du kannst dieses Lied lernen? [Oh, you can learn this (or that) song?]
Kaya: Ich kann das singen, nach dieses Lied... [I can sing it, after this song.]
(repeats lyrics, mostly the same, with this addition at the end: )
Wir haben SPASS GE-MACHT! [we HAD FUN!]
Ja wohl!

 

*For the record, Kaya used the verb 'abpicken', a word that doesn't exist (probably instead of abholen, which means to pick up) to convey her message. Her word choice adds to the mystery of the message.

Silly Sally with Daddy

One of Kaya's favorite books these days is 'Silly Sally'...she'd read it every night if we didn't gently nudge her at times to read others with us instead. She's read it so much, in fact, that she knows many pages, and nearly the whole book in fact, by heart.


As she was reading with Geoff tonight, I couldn't resist the temptation to capture them on film. I so rarely post videos of her speaking English, and I thought it would be not only fun to share, but fun to have here for later, too. I really like the part in the video where she interrupts her reading in English with Geoff to let me know, in German, that she needs her fingernail trimmed, and that, no, it can't wait until after they read. I also love how she gets under the blanket, which she does every time, to hide from 'the big Neddy' (Buttercup)! The video is a bit long, at 5-ish minutes, but it does a great job at showing where she's at these days. Enjoy!

Also, while I'm thinking of it, I wanted to point out, for those who may have not noticed, that I recently added a new page to the blog. It's called 'The Quotable Kaya', and is specifically for notable quotes and conversations that take place in our lives with Kaya. Some of them are simply cute, while others of them, especially the ones I've recorded recently, seem really telling of her language process at this stage. In general, her German is on par, if not maybe even a little stronger, than her English! Oh how I've dreamed of this stage!!!

p.s. For those of you who receive these posts emailed to you, the Quotable Kaya page doesn't get emailed out...so, should you be interested in following along with little conversations here and there, check back every now and again!

Nikolausmorgen...25 Days Later...

It's only taken me 25 days to get my  s*#t  together and write a post about how our Nikolaus morning went...I found inspiration a week ago or so, as I was reading another blogger's post about their preparations for the day. And I even took a few videos on Nikolaus morning, in part for Geoff. He was at work when Kaya awoke to find her boots filled with goodies--I wanted him to be able to see how excited she'd been!

As you may recall, or know from experience, Nikolaus 'comes' on the evening of Dec. 5th and fills the children's boots with nuts, oranges and chocolate...at least for those children who have been 'good'. Krampus (or Ruprecht) takes the bad ones, or hits 'em with a switch. Fortunately, Kaya is still cute enough to avoid that nastiness...


So, in addition to filling her boots with a couple pieces of chocolate, mandarins and a fruit leather, Geoff and I 'indulged ourselves' in leaving a gift next to her boots, as well. I found this awesome dollhouse on Craigslist, completely furnished, to replace the smaller, unfurnished one she had before. I thought it would be fun for Nikolaus to furnish her bathroom, along with bringing her some chocolate--she'd been asking for a toilet for her dollhouse, and I was eager to replace Geoff's cardboard creation, as ingenious as it was.


Here's the second video I took, which shows how happy she was with the chocolate, as well as how clear it is to her who brought her these yummy gifts. You'll here me asking her to tell me who (Wer?) brought her this chocolate, and you'll hear her responding as if she doesn't know (wer?!). As I run through a long list of various people who may have brought her the goodies, it's clear to her that it was none of these people...until she hears Nikolaus' name. At the end, by the way, she gets up and says that she's going to put the trash in the garbage (that's our Kaya, for ya!) [Ich werde das in den Muell bringen.]

She was so enamored with the chocolate that it wasn't until I asked her what else he'd brought her that she noticed the gifts next to the boots. She dove in to unwrap them, savoring each piece of furniture for what it was and what it could do for her little dollies. She opened each one so carefully, and was so attentive. It was so sweet, so innocent...and honestly, much different than the experience at the end of December once she'd had a few days of opening one gift a day...


In addition to sharing about Nikolaus, I've been wanting to sum up our holiday season, specifically as a reminder for myself for next year as I'm perched on the edge of the season, trying to remember what worked and what didn't. I clearly remember thinking that this 'one gift a day' idea didn't turn out exactly as I'd hoped...


It's late, though, and we're on the eve of our New Year's cabin trip!
...So, until that post makes it into the cyber-waves, it looks like you'll just have to sit on the edge of your seat and wait...


2012, here we come!
Happy New Year!

The Binky-Fairy

This post was originally written in December 2011 when the binky-fairy made her initial 'visit' to our house. It has been adapted for the January edition of the Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism, a blogging community of bilingual parents and families wanting to promote a larger discussion on bilingualism and create a wider community of bilingual parents. For more up-to-date posts regarding post-binky bedtime progress, see The Quotable Kaya.

Sometimes, it seems like starting a blog post is like eating another cookie: SO tempting, yet so full of consequences that don't exactly leave you feeling so satisfied. Sleep is overrated, right?

Last night, I got maybe 45 minutes. Maybe. As soon as I finished my big Christmas project at midnight, I headed to bed, eager to finally be prone. As I attempted to relax and calm my thoughts from the day, my mind started spinning with concerns about my missing purse. My checkbook, 5 client checks, my ID, credit and debit card, ski passes, book of stamps...all vanished into who knows where on Saturday night and I had yet to truly process all that was really missing. Not to mention all that could be happening out there with whomever may have my stuff.

I popped out of bed, wrote the necessary emails to the necessary people, and finally headed back to bed at about 1am. And then I heard her whimper.

We'd mentioned the coming of the Schnulli-fairy at least a few weeks ago. She knew the day would come. But it was really the visit to the dentist last week that had me finally settle on last night: "...it's time for the pacifiers to go. Her lower jaw needs every possible opportunity to catch up to the upper one," Dr. Chavez told me. I knew the day would come, too...but I was 'giving myself' until age 3.

Her whimpers turned to soft cries, and I could no longer stay away. I thought I knew what I might be walking into. I really had no idea, however...

When I approached her bed, her blankets were disheveled, covering her only in part. Her sleeper was unzipped, completely, and her legs were bare. "Musst du pullern?" I asked her softly, thinking that she must have to pee. No answer. Just blank stares, through tears. "Musst du A-a machen?" I asked again, thinking that, perhaps, she had to poop. Again, she said nothing.  Shortly thereafter, however, she began to cry, grabbing her Schnulli [binky] which now had a hole where the nipple once was. "Ich hab' keinen Schnuwii," [I don't have a binky] she said, slowly and sadly, as her cries turned from whimpers to sobs. I quickly jumped in bed behind her, snuggling her with my heart as it slowly melted with her pain. Nearly three years of falling asleep with the comfort of a suckable piece of plastic, and now, no solace in the silicone. As I snuggled in behind her, and held her close, she slowly fondled the Schnulli in front of her, the green one that was always her favorite. I knew that she knew. She knew it was time, and that the Schnulli fairy had come, and that there was simply no turning back. She wasn't angry. She wasn't scared. She was simply sad, and there was no way around it. I held her tighter and stroked her head. "Aber hat dir die Schnulli-fee etwas gebracht?" [But did the binky fairy bring you anything?] I asked her, pointing slowly to the bear on her pillow. She slowly looked up, and noticed the bear. All of a sudden, there was a shift. She grabbed the bear, and brought it to her, dangling it by its hoop. She turned to me, grinning huge, and referenced the book we'd just read last night,"Ich bin jetzt wie Cawa." [I'm like Clara now.] "Ja, das stimmt," [Yes, you are.] I told her. "Du brauchst keinen Schnuller mehr, genau wie Clara!" [You don't need a pacifier anymore, just like Clara.]


While we were in Germany, I excitedly bumped into this book called, "Ein Baer von der Schnullerfee" [A Bear from the Binky Fairy] in which little Clara is visited by the binky fairy and told that she'll receive a gift when she's ready to add her binkies to the collection on the fairy's necklace. A few days later, after Clara is ready, the fairy returns, and brings her a bear in exchange for her binkies. Kaya was very excited about the bear idea, and had been for weeks. She clearly couldn't conceptualize how schnulli-less bedtimes would feel. After reading the book for the first time on Sunday night, I told Kaya that sometimes, the Schnulli fairy will leave the Schnulli, but will simply take the 'nose' of the Schnulli to add to her necklace. In that way, there's not a complete 'lack' of Schnulli, just a missing ability to suck. Geoff and I liked this concept, and thus attempted to prepare her for how some fairies operate.

So, there we were, on her bed, lying in the dim glow of her Santa Claus light. As she dangled the bear back and forth near our heads, she shared with me something that I never saw coming. "Mama, ich wiw awe meine Schnuwi der Schnuwifee geben," [I want to give all of my binkies to the binky fairy.] she told me, as I swallowed my surprise. "Ich wiw, dass du sie ihr gibst." [I want you to give them to her.] "OK," I told her. "Das kann ich machen." [I can do that.] Apparently, she likes the binky-fairy who takes the binkies, not the ones who cut holes in them. She'd just much rather have them gone. She then handed me all three pacifiers and told me, "Ich wiw, dass du wieder kommst, nachdem du sie ihr gibst." [I want you to come back after you give them to her.] Of course I conceded, and proceeded out the door, binkies in hand. When I returned, Schnulli free, Kaya's spirits stayed high, and we laid there a big longer. I was growing a bit excited at the idea of going to sleep soon, and thought we might be close. And then my hopes were crushed. "Ich bin nich muede" [I'm not tired] she declared, gently. "Ich wiw nicht schafen. Ich wiw nur scheeelen (ich will nicht schlafen, ich will nur spielen)." [I don't want to sleep. I only want to plaaayyyy.] Having learned the hard way, I knew there was no fighting it. Trying to force a 2 year old to sleep when they only want to play is like trying to fit your elbow into your mouth. It just doesn't work. So, I set her up with some light and some books, and told her she could read until she grew tired. I hesitated to leave her alone, concerned about her being warm enough if she fell asleep without a blanket. After talking her into wearing a sweater, and knowing that she'd call me if she needed me, I sauntered off to bed in hopes of some sleep.

A bit later, no more than an hour, I awoke to Kaya's voice. "Ich bin Hunnnger," [I am hunnnger] she told me, as I went into her room. "Ich wiw essen." [I wanna eat.] After having this incredibly helpful conversation that afternoon with a friend about the importance of validating children (and adults, too!), I knew, once again, that there was no fighting this one either. Granted, I tried for a few minutes, attempting to tell her that I knew how hungry she was, and that she could eat as soon as we got up in the morning. Not wanting Geoff to lose any sleep (as the full-time worker of the two of us), however, I chose the quiet route over the loud one.

Thus, at 3 am, I found myself cutting apples and serving miso soup to a very cheerful little girl who had no intention of falling asleep schnulli-less. At this point, after having tasted sleep, I was beginning to lose some patience and compassion, and had to keep my mind from wandering to how things would be the next day. I had a tutoring gig at 9:30am that I wondered if I'd be able to keep. 4am came and went, and with some tears and sadness, so did 5. Song after song, lullaby after lullaby, we rocked in the rocker and sang in her bed, while she cried at the challenge of the eve. "Ich kannnn nicht ohne Schnuwi schaafen," [I can't sleep without a binky] she cried, overwhelmed at the thought of going it solo. "Ich weiss," [I know] I told her, reflecting on Laura's advice. "Es ist schwer ohne Schnulli einzuschlafen. Ich wuenschte mir, du haettest tausende von Schullis, in dem du schwimmen koenntest, und womit du spielen koenntest. Das waere so schoen!" [It is hard to fall asleep without a binky. I wish you had a thousand binkies that you could swim in and play with.] It felt strange to be responding like this, I told her earlier on the phone. It's like I'm being so condescending, indulging the fact that she doesn't have what she wants, and that I'm not going to give it to her. "You're not two," she reminded me. "If your husband came home and told you that he wished you had all the millions in the world to swim in and run through and cover your house with, after you share with him your concern about your finances, you'd want to hit him!" True. That.

Her advice was a godsend, and at 6:30am, after a multitude of lullabies and more compassion and validation that I've demonstrated in ages, she finally fell asleep in my lap, being rocked in the rocker. When she awoke when I moved her, I feared a replay. But after walking out slowly, taking nary a breath, she did it by herself and fell asleep without Schnulli.

Mission accomplished.!
Only 5 hours later.

This afternoon, as Geoff walked through the door, Kaya went running to him, bringing with her the Schnulli-bear. "Look what I got," she told him, proudly, snuggling into his arms. "Wow!" he responded. "Where'd you get that?" "The Schnulli-fee brought it to me," she replied, looking at me, afterwards. I asked her then if she had to give the fairy anything in exchange for the bear. She looked at Geoff, knowing that my question in German was intended to be answered in English to him. "Mama gave my Schnullis...her." I smiled as she told him this, not only because she was clearly so at peace with the whole thing, but because of the sweetness of the structure of her English sentence. In German, there's no need to use the preposition 'to' before 'her' since the grammar makes it clear which case is intended.

Here it is, 12:30am, and I feel like a ticking time bomb. A kind of dumb one, putting writing before sleeping. I have no idea why I'm not tired, and am avoiding the fear of when it will catch up to me. I partly think I'm riding on this new wave of validation that's working wonders...and simultaneously excited at this new phase in our lives.

Kaya just woke up, crying, and as I approached the door, I feared a repeat of last night. Forward motion is happening, however. She not only fell back to sleep quickly, with just a blanket and some gentle rocking on her bed, but tonight, as Geoff was putting her to bed, he told her that she can fall asleep with her snuggle monkey and her dog, avoiding the whole binky conversation. In contrast to the "I can't" concern she voiced with me last night, tonight she simply told Geoff that "it's hard to sleep without a Schnulli, Daddy."

It sure is, Kaya. That I know.
Mama sucked her thumb until she was twelve...

A Lil' Bit of Lullaby--a la Kaya

Over the past week or so, Kaya has become quite the vocalist. She's enjoyed music for as long as I can remember her noticing it--she used to, and continues to, ask for certain songs to be repeated, and requests for music to be played, either on the radio or through Geoff's fingertips on his guitar. I can distinctly remember a post that I wrote about a year ago in which Kaya was picking up on the words in a particular song, referencing the topic in our conversation. I'll have to find that post one of these days...

But this week has really been a benchmark for her beginning to sing with us. Last night, for example, Geoff went into her room to serenade her to sleep, and she made a very clear request for him to play "Tinkuh Tinkuh wih Sar, an den Baa-baa back shee", as he often does before bed. As he began to play, she looked at him, wide eyed and bushy-tailed, and asked, "Keh we sing togeduh, Daddy?" After his heart melted, and he assured her that, of course they could, she began to tell him how it was going to work: "Firs time, we sing 'Baa-baa Back Shee, Haya any woh?', then we sing it woudah an woudah..." [Baa-baa black sheep, have you any wool, then we sing it louder and louder].

Tonight, as Kaya requested a couple songs from Mama, I grabbed our video-guy and saw to it that you could get a taste of our budding musician in action. We started the rendition off with one of our bedtime favorites, Schlafliedchen [Little Sleep Song]:

Schlaf, mein kleines Maeuschen  [Sleep, my little mouse,]

schlaf bis morgen frueh,               [Sleep, til early morn]

bis der Hahn im Haeuschen,         [Til the rooster in his house]

ruft sein Kikeriki,                          [calls his cockle-doodle-doo]

bis der Hahn im Haeuschen, 

ruft sein Kikeriki. 

Ki-keri-kii. 

Streckst du aus die Fuesschen,      [Stretch your little footsies]

deck dich richtig zu!                      [Cover yourself right up]

Schlaf mein Strampellieschen,      [Sleep my little cuddle bug]

schlaf mein Liebling du!               [Sleep my dear one, you]

Schlaf mein Strampellieschen, 

schlaf mein Liebling du!

Kikeriki!

 

We followed up that song with another classic, Schlaf, Kindchen, Schlaf [Sleep, Child, Sleep], but I can't seem to get two videos on here, so you'll have to imagine that one for yourself. It's similarly as entertaining as the first, and we'll surely be using it in Kaya's application to Juliard...

Schlaf, Kindlein, Schlaf,                    [Sleep, child, sleep]
Am Himmel ziehen die Schaf,           [in heaven run the sheep]
der Mond, der ist das Schaeferlein,    [the moon, it is the shepherd man]
die Sterne sind die Laemmerlein,       [the stars, they are the little sheep]
Schlaf, Kaya, Schlaf.

Schlaf, Kaya, Schlaf!
Der Vater huettet die Schaf,                [the father guards the sheep]
die Mutter schuettelt's Bauemelein,    [the mother shakes the little tree]
da faellt herab ein Traeumelein,         [from it falls the little dreams]
Schlaf, Kaya, Schlaf.

She uttered a pretty darn cute Santa quote tonight, too--I think I'll test out the new Quotable Kaya page and will post it there, should your curiosity be piqued!