The Power of the Novice (and learning along with them!)

My last post took us into our new Chinese adventure, and bedtime tonight provides yet another story down this path. As I mentioned, Kaya just started learning Chinese at school (and will learn through 4th grade), with two 50 minute sessions per week. The focus is mostly on culture, with some focus on the sounds and basic words. Being the language teacher that I am, the format had me wondering how much she'd really get from 50 minutes back to back two days a week. With this, I sat down in front of my computer and put a bunch of Chinese books on hold at the library -- those with CDs of course, as I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing in the language. This cluelessness has actually felt like a huge asset, as Kaya knows with great certainty, that I, like she, am a true beginner, and I'm just realizing now, as I write this, that this novice position is allowing me to model for her. I think it's actually working...

Last week, she hated Chinese. Ok, maybe not hate, but the dislike has been strong and voiced. The first week, she came home expressing frustration that her Chinese teacher is really hard to understand. Once they started playing games in class, she seemed a bit happier about her experience, but there has still been a general aversion to the experience. Tonight, however, we started in on our 3rd chinese book, and I began to sense quite a different vibe.

When I brought this particular book up to her bed tonight, I didn't announce that it was a Chinese book. I think she knew, but I can't be sure. It's one of those that has the English version starting at one end of the book, and the Chinese at the other end. So, in the middle, they meet, with the rest of the pages upside down. We read the English side first, with no real intention on my part to listen to the Chinese on CD. It was late and she needs the sleep. But when we got to the end, and she'd clearly enjoyed the story and seemed eager for more, I asked her if she wanted to listen to the CD. "Willst du," [Do you?] she asked me, with curiosity. As much as I was aware that this was a true opportunity to model excitement for the language, it was my heart that really answered the question. "Ja!" [Yes!] I told her, enthusiastically. She wasn't yet convinced. She thinks Chinese sounds like baby language, and seems quite annoyed by this. Maybe it was my super stellar Chinese impression...I have always gotten a kick out of pretending that I'm fluent (and I promise you, it's likely an insult to those who do, unintentionally, of course!) --but something kicked in for her, and she was suddenly warming up to the idea of diving into some Chinese tonight.


While we were listening, I noticed her "following" the characters along with the Chinese sounds (probably in the wrong direction, I realize, since I have no idea what I'm doing and I modeled left to right!). I also noticed her testing out some of the sounds a few times, as I had done a couple times after I'd begun to recognize individual sounds...particularly those that get repeated a lot. By the end, she was clearly into it, even if she wouldn't admit it. By the end, she was asking me if I would be learning together with her, so that "eines Tages wir koennten zusammen auf Chinesisch sprechen!" [one day we'd be able to speak together in Chinese!].

How cool would that be?!

I'm feeling motivated. I've been down this road before, both with Chinese and Japanese...giving up because I knew I'd never be moving there. But now, I have a different motivation to learn: together with our daughter. And that feels incredibly exciting, on so many levels...

If you have any resources to recommend for us on our Chinese learning adventure, please share them below. We're eager for great titles, games, songs, and other (optimally screen-free) resources that can help us connect to the language and each other!

Shoe, Schuh, or Shu? (OR...'On the road to Trilingual')

Lately - as in, the past 6 months and then some - it's been a lot easier for me to think about writing than it has been for me to sit down and do it. Not so much because I don't want to --because I still love the process so dearly-- but because I've finally slowed down enough in life such that it doesn't feel like I'm always trying to pack it all in. My mom would be so proud...I can't tell you how many times, how many conversations she tried to have with me around this topic. "Tams, you always try to do too much," she'd tell me, nearing a panic attack just from watching my spastic tendencies. But at the time, it's what energized me...or so I thought. Now, ironically, I get more life energy from slowing down. That's all to say that I've been more present and parenting more, which has left me much less time to write, particularly after a summer with lots of Kaya-time.

But alas...I wanted to sit down tonight and write because I think about Kaya growing up, just having started 1st grade at our dream K-8 Waldorf-inspired charter, and realize that what seems normal and everyday now won't always seem that way. And so I want to capture a few moments while they're fresh in the name of reminiscing later. This being a language and parenting blog, for the most part, I'll focus on the story today from Chinese class. 

First Day of School: Rose Ceremony with her
8th Grade Mentor behind her

Last year, I was torn. Start her at a Spanish Immersion kindergarten, or keep her at the outdoor immersion where she'd been for two years. As it turned out, we did neither, but had her instead at a small in-home kindergarten that our friend started down the street. But now that she's attending her new school, she's started learning Chinese twice a week at school. I may be a lot more excited than she, as she states that she doesn't like it, and that her Chinese teacher is hard to understand...but I'm impressed not only that she's learning already, but that she's coming home to tell me about it. Granted, it's only one word that she shared, but in our friends' car today on the way home from school, she tells me, "Mama, Shu heisst Buch." [Shu means book.] At first, I didn't get it - as simple a statement as it was. Being completely accustomed to her speaking 95% German with me still, I didn't process that 'shu' was a Chinese word. And then, with German being my 3rd language, it took my mind an extra few seconds to process it all, admittedly. 'Shoe' could be in English, or 'Schuh' could be in German, or clearly, 'shu' could be Chinese, too. For her, however, with 2 native languages, adding a 3rd is a completely different experience for her brain. It fascinates me that she can learn Chinese in school in English and then share with me in German what she learned it means in English (or maybe they didn't learn it through words at all, more likely, but with the item itself?). Granted, it's not so much the fact that she can do it, because I recognize that it's not rocket science...but the fact that she has the opportunity to do that, and that she is doing it (vs. keeping the thoughts to herself) is ultra exciting to me! 

In college, I took a Spanish-German translation course, and I remember how much effort it was for my brain to go directly from language 2 to 3, and back. In my early days of classwork, I had to use English as the middle language, serving as a bridge. But Kaya, with similar comfort levels in both English and German...does she need a bridge language? I would assume not. Maybe it's for this reason, among others, that it's easier to learn additional languages once you've already learned two.

Anyway, I'm still pretty fascinated to think about this, and while she may not be excited about the prospect of learning a 3rd language, I'm excited enough for both of us. I'm wishing she had it more than 2 days a week, back to back, but guess who's gonna go check out some Chinese books and resources at the library...

(Quick language update: As I mentioned above, Kaya still speaks to me primarily in German, throwing in plenty of English words than she doesn't know the German for...or doesn't want to give her brain time to grab over the English version. When she does this, if I know the word, I'll either repeat it back in German or will respond using the German word, which she then quickly assimilates into her end of the conversation. I have noticed that I've been using quite a bit more English with her -- definitely 1-3 sentences when i'm upset, before reverting back to German, and I'm almost always add English when friends are around so they can be more involved in our conversation. Sometimes, I say the German first, other times, the English. And every once in a while, I'll just say the English. She still feels a year or so younger to me when she speaks German...a phenomenon I've noticed for the past many years with her German. She speaks more slowly in German and it takes her longer to access some words...though if she's feeling patient, she will. She still seems very committed and interested in speaking German with me...it's clearly our language together, and while we haven't discussed it in a while, it's clear to me that there's security and connection in that for her.)

Simplicity & Accountability by my 6 Yr Old

There are really so many other things I need to be doing...like catching up with this amazing online course that I'm taking, or finishing my new website. BUT...blogging feels a bit like an old security blanket, and when the post starts writing itself in my head, I know it's time to make the time to sit down, relax, and peck out a story or two.

This afternoon, on our way home from gymnastics, Kaya and I were discussing whether we'd go to the grocery store. Neither of us is so fond of the activity, so there is generally plenty of reason, and resistance from us both, to avoid it. But, as I shared with her, my contact lenses can only water themselves for so long, and our cow is about to run dry...so it seemed there was no avoiding a trip this time.

So, after her initial squawking about not wanting to go, she adamantly proclaims, "Dann ich werde ein Treat bekommen!" [Then, I'm going to get a treat!] (and for those non-German speakers out there, I might add that 'treat' is not a German word, but serves to represent the influx of mixing that we're seeing lately). The key terms here are "adamantly proclaims". This is no excited tone of eagerness at the idea that the treat might actually materialize in her hands at the store. To the contrary, she was quite clear what would be happening and who would be making it happen.

Once I joined in the assertion game that she was playing, letting her know which reality she would actually experience under the current circumstances of tone and expectation, we were able to move on to the point that I'm actually trying to get to in this story. She gets the point, changes her tone, and as if by magic, I begin to create my own storyville dreamland of our grocery adventure. I see the pint of chocolate ice cream in my hand, feeling the chill on my skin, wondering which flavor I would choose. Milk, saline solution, and....ice cream. Yes, indeed - if she's going to get a treat, then guess who else is, too. "Ich will auch ein Treat," [I want a treat,too] I tell her, choosing somewhat hesitantly to let her in on my dreamland a bit. It felt a bit cathartic, I must say: I've been avoiding processed sugar for nearly 2 months now, doing pretty 'well' despite the urges at times, and it felt good to just be honest about what I really wanted...and give a little window into what I was thinking. I wasn't sure how she'd respond, despite her awareness of my no-sugar adventure. I guess I figured she'd be so involved in her own treatville dreamland that she'd be completely oblivious to mine.

But alas, I was wrong. Instead of letting me continue to bask in the details of what flavor chocolate I'd choose and exactly how I'd go about breaking this personal agreement I'd made with myself (and my husband), she stops me in my tracks. "Aber du wirst kein Treat bekommen, weil du kein Zucker isst..." [But you won't buy a treat because you're not eating sugar.]

I feel like I'd just been caught by my 6 year old with my hand in the cookie jar (after having just called her into the kitchen). The silence rang loudly in my ears after she spoke, until doubt kicked in to clarify. "Ein Treat oder kein Treat," ['A' treat or 'no' treat?] I ask her, checking to be sure that I'd really been caught. There was no mistaking it, however. She called me out. My mind begins to scan for possibilities. What might I say that could counter the point she'd just made?

"Yeah, I know but today I feel extra sad so I'm going to eat."
"That's true, but it's OK to break self-agreements when things don't go well."
"I know honey, but I don't feel like it anymore."

I couldn't do it. There was nothing I could say or do that felt solid enough for me to stand behind...except for sticking to what I'd agreed to and letting her point ring true: I'm not eating sugar, so I'm not going to get a treat.

Sure there was a part of me, that small voice, that wanted to tell her Big voice, that I would do whatever the hell I wanted. That I can have a bad day and eat chocolate when I want. That no child of mine is going to tell me what to do. But my Big voice knows better. She knows when to heed advice from those who thrive on structure. And she knows that there's nobody that I'm really responsible to except myself...regardless of who says what in which car.

So, to the future Kaya who will read this one day, thank you.
To the Kaya who asks me before falling asleep, "Fuhlst du dich besser, Mama?" [Do you feel better, Mama?]
Thank you for being my rock, in more ways than one, for guiding and supporting me --once again-- to be the person that I strive to be in our world.

Little Lessons in Simplicity and Climate

This afternoon, as we were searching for our favorite photos of her 'through the ages', Kaya asked me why we chose her name. I started with the simple answer, the one she happened to know already: "Wir wollten einen K Namen finden, nach Nana." [We wanted a K name as a way to honor Nana.] The rest of the answer, I'm a little embarrassed to admit, necessitated a little internet consult. Granted, the fact that my friend's dog was named Caillou, and Geoff had a friend whose dog was named Kaya, is pretty simple. But...we didn't name our daughter after their dogs--as much as we liked the names. It was what we discovered through some very brief research that really sealed the deal.

So, as I dipped into the internet in hopes of a quick answer, I found this excellent--but complicated--article that had me feeling quite connected to the power of the universe...as hoaky as that may sound. Yes, I know that we named her Kaya, and for some of you, this might not sound surprising in the slightest...but it still has me feeling in awe of what is really possible in this life.

As this article explains, there are three Kayas, and "these three Kayas are actually aspects of enlightened being. They are the Buddha reflected in three different ways in order to help sentient beings." And, for those of you with little to no experience with Buddhism, Buddha means 'awakened or fully realized one' in Sanskrit.

While this may not sound like much to the average reader just bumping into this post willy-nilly, for those of you who recall what I just shared yesterday in my post about my Embodied Buddha-Mama, I'm thinking you may see what I'm getting at. But just in case, let me spell it out a little further.

Today served as another representation of the simplicity that Kaya offers for my life. Despite our arsenal to fight the bugs ruminating in the surrounding air (Vitamin D, Airborne, Elderberry Syrup, Gypsy Cold Care tea, water, rest...), Kaya caught a little something and had to miss out on school and a family birthday party. She wasn't all that sick, though (arsenal!?), and was in pretty high spirits for most of the day. I told her that even though she had to miss school and a party tonight, we could still have a really fun day, and do something to celebrate. Last week, we'd talked about the idea of going to a bead store on her birthday, and I thought for sure she'd be all over it. When I brought it up, she liked the idea, but made sure to let me know that she wanted to relax first, spend time snuggling on the couch with me, and then possibly head out in the afternoon. Surely it made a difference that Auntie Sara's gifts arrived in the mail, but once afternoon rolled around, Kaya was quite eager to keep it simple and stay home.

Clearly, she enjoyed the ice cream...

Similarly, I gave her the option to do whatever she wanted for dinner. Eat out at her favorite restaurant, head for ice cream afterwards, or stay home and choose our meal. Mac n' cheese and ice cream at home was the clear choice. "Bist du sicher, das du nicht zum Eisgeschaeft gehen willst?" [Are you sure you don't want to go get ice cream?] I asked her, surprised, once again, at the simplicity and clarity of her choice. "Ja, Mama, Ich bin sicher. Ich will dass Dada zum Geschaeft geht und Eis nach Hause bringt."[I'm sure, Mama. I want Dada to go to the store and bring ice cream home.]




This all has me wondering...Is Kaya as she is because we named her as such...or was I informed by something bigger in choosing her name?

The first Kaya, or the Dharmakaya according to that same article quoted above, is "the embodiment of wisdom". It's the wisdom to know the value in staying home to rest even when it would be way more fun to go the bead shop, or have a sleep over on your birthday. It's the wisdom to perceive when is too much. In greater detail, as I understand it, the Dharmakaya is the wisdom to be aware of subjective and objective phenomenon and recognize that each is dependent upon the other, as we all are upon each other. Perhaps I'm seeing this aspect in our lil' Kaya in our much more snuggly she's become with me over the years. I remember when she was quite content to have her own space, in her own bed, at at a minimum, at an arm's length from me in our bed. Even these days, she'll often ask me to give her some space when she needs it.

The second Kaya is referred to as the Sambhogakaya, and in its simplest explanation, "this spontaneous radiance of unceasing clarity is the meaning of the Sanskrit term...". Those of you who know Kaya can likely relate to the significance of this. Our daughter is the furthest thing from wishy-washy. She's clear. She knows what she wants. The red sweatshirt. The salmon burger. Three more songs. Mac n' cheese and store-bought ice cream." 'Sam' means perfect, 'bhoga' means enjoyment and kaya is roughly translated as body. Thus 'the body of perfect enjoyment' is the radiant wisdom aspect of our original nature." No doubt on my part that our Kaya is a little embodiment of perfect enjoyment.

The third Kaya, or the Nirmanakaya, and refers to something that is "manifest in form", but is a form that is for everyone. There are other forms that just appear to highly enlightened beings. I'm grateful that our Kaya is available for all of us, especially for me, to remind me how I want to live and what will make the biggest difference for her life. As it's described further, this aspect or kaya of Buddha is also called the 'artisan emanation'. "These appear as objects of art and the artists who make them for the benefit of all sentient beings..[...]...Beautiful inspired works of art which bring clarity, peace, joy and something special which seems to touch the heart center, are all known as artisan emanations."


For the record, this is the first time that I've ever learned any of this in such depth. When we chose her name, I knew that it had something to do with the three bodies of wisdom in Buddhism. I'm not Buddhist, but certainly resonate strongly with its principles. And I liked the sound of the name. I'd always had K-names for my dogs (Kensa, Kahlua, and Kess!), and while I didn't want to name my daughter Karen, I really wanted the mom-connection in there somehow.

But here's the part of the story that really gets me.

A few years after Kaya was born, at my mom's memorial I believe, someone asked me what Kaya's name meant. Still fuzzy on the definition (and also aware that there are many of them), I decided to go searching again. As an avid climate activist, someone whose primary motivation in life is to secure the well-being and health of all life on this planet, I was shocked to discover this definition:

The Kaya identity is an equation relation factors that determine the level of human impact on climate, in the form of emissions of the greenhouse gas carbon dioxide. 

What is the connection between our children and the lives we seek to lead?

I know that I continue to learn everyday from our little Kaya, and am continually impressed with not only what she has to offer, but the outer reaches of what is possible when we stay open and aware and committed to our deepest purpose.

My Embodied Buddha-Mama

Tomorrow, my baby turns 6.
Jan. 22, 2015

When I share that with some people in my life, they can't believe it's happened so quickly. For me, however, I couldn't have asked time to move in more perfect rhythm.

I feel fortunate that I've been able to stay home with her all these years, working part time as teacher, tutor, and now "climate coach", part-time as mama (or is mama a full time gig?!). I never saw myself doing the stay-at-home mama thing--which, I realize as I write it, is really quite a silly term. I never 'stayed at home'. We went out. We go out. But I digress... Being able to be such a huge part of Kaya's childhood has and continues to bring me great joy--and from what I'm realizing, makes time feel a hell of a lot slower...in a good way.

And were she elsewhere, who knows what would have happened with her German...
Which brings me back to the general subject of this here blog on bilingualism.

Damn, it feels great to be 'back'. I've missed writing, I've missed being here, on my own blog. I see that more than 1000 people visit here every month now, and where am I?! Dying to be back, I can say that. While I make no promises, the desire lives strong...I want this for Kaya as she grows older. I keep meaning to publish all of these posts into a book for her--there are those amazing companies that exist that do that. And it saddens me to think of all of the amazing details that haven't been captured for her future.

I'll do my best, however, to fill in some holes in my upcoming posts so I can get back to writing from the present.

Tonight, as I was at a Social Action Gathering for my Citizens' Climate Lobby chapter, one of my friends asked me how our little button was doing. "I couldn't be more in love," I told her, feeling the melting in my heart. "She's my little buddha-mama," I continued. "It's like she's my mom and Buddha embodied in one, guiding me to live life as it's meant to be lived..."

And with that, I shared the story about last week, when Kaya told me (still speaking with me in German these days) that she really wanted to have a sleepover with her friends, Eli and Jacob. When I mentioned this to their mom, she was really into it, and we bounced some ideas around. That night, at dinner, I proposed the idea to Kaya that the boys come over for a sleepover after her birthday party at the gymnastics gym. They could come to our family potluck dinner and then just stay. I was shocked--and incredibly impressed--when she responded with a, "Mama, ich glaube das koennte zu viel sein..." [Mama, I think that could be too much.]

Did you hear that, Mom? Where you left off, Kaya is picking up for you, guiding me to slow down and pack in less...

A few days later, proving that I clearly hadn't yet learned my lesson, Kaya asks me to fill her in on our plan for the day. (This is normal. Kaya loves a plan. She finds great security in the structure and expectation of knowing what's coming down the shoot.) So, I proceed to tell her:
Play date with Scout. Brunch with Michael. Playdate with Eli and Jacob. Buy ballet shoes. Head home.
"Mama, das ist zu viel. Ich glaube, wir sollten nicht so viel machen." [Mama, that's too much. I don't think we should do so much.] she proceeds to tell me, both hesitantly and confidently. Of course it is, I realize in retrospect. But the last thing I expected was to hear it from her. What surprised me even more was what followed. When I proposed that we shorten her play date with her best friend, Scout, and pick up her ballet slipper before brunch instead of after, she went for it. She lives for play dates with Scout. Yet, clearly, stronger for her is her need for balance and calm, her strong sense for what is too much.

Are you loving this, Mom?!

So, with this in mind, I'll keep this post brief and let these sweet stories be my re-entry into my blogging universe. I do promise another post very shortly. I'm eager to set the scene, to lay the stage for where we're at with our German and the latest language development on the horizon...and perhaps even create some bridges for those of you who do share my deep concern for the futures we are creating for our littles.

So good to be back. Please 'stop in' and say hi, if you would. And if you're willing, follow me here (or on Twitter, if you have a concern about Climate Change!).  I think of SO many of you when I write, those of you who have written me on email, and in comments, and have played SUCH a huge role in my journey as non-native bilingual mama, and I feel very grateful for you in this community. While we span the globe, we remain connected.

Despite my most recent silence, I feel that...and I hope you do, too!

In loving community,
Tamara

Adding a Third Language at 5?

As I walked in the door this evening, I saw it on the floor. There was no mistaking it, with the return address from PORTLAND PUBLIC SCHOOLS, Enrollment and Transfer Center. We'd been waiting for weeks to hear if we'd make the lottery for the Dual Spanish Immersion Program at our neighborhood school, and alas, we found out:

We made the cut (!!!??!?!?!?!$&!!@%$^$%^!).

For me, just hours from the news, my heart swims with emotions--excitement, fear, relief, curiosity, eagerness--and my mind swirls with thoughts. Can we trust an immersion program in it's first year at a school? What will adding a third language do to her non-community language (German)? What happens if we end up getting into our 'dream school' part way through the year--and then we don't like it?

When Geoff and I were on the fence about whether we wanted any more children, we agreed that we didn't want to make the decision based on fear (I'm afraid she'll feel alone in the world if she doesn't have any siblings...). Instead, we wanted to make a decision based on inspiration, based on the song of our heart beneath the fear.  Naturally, we want to do the same with this decision, too--a good reminder for me right now, as my mind spins and my stomach tries to talk me into a chocolate smoothie. There's nothing like chocolate ice cream to make everything feel easier in the moment.

So, then, what would my heart say if it could talk?
What would I hear if I listened?

I would love for Kaya to learn Spanish. As I told her tonight, it was the first language that I learned in school, the one I learned before German. The idea of my daughter knowing the same languages that I do leaves me with a cozy feeling.

And my brain is saying the following, too. Naturally, Spanish is a much more useful language to know than German, so there's that. But even if she's only in this Dual Immersion program for a year or less, a program which is conducted 90% in Spanish and 10% in English, I can imagine that the learning opportunity would only be beneficial. Right?

A month ago, we thought we had this school thing all figured out. After having discovered that we were 63rd on the wait list at the school that had me in tears of joy on curriculum night, we decided that we'd enroll Kaya for next year at her current school--a continuing Kindergarten class at her outdoor immersion forest farm preschool (Waldorf inspired). I met with her teacher, talked to the director, and felt great about the decision. And then, Kaya told me one night that she didn't want to go to school there next year. She was ready to be inside more, done with being so muddy and wet, and eager to learn to write--a much cuter, longer tale than I'm sharing now, but curt to stick to the point. She was also tired of being in the car so much, about 25 minutes each direction. And so, wanting to honor our daughter's wishes, we gave it some good thought, and decided to consider other options, optimally closer to home.  

And so here we sit...with three enticing neighborhood options in our laps:
1. Traditional kindergarten option at our local public school, which is rumored to be a good program now (after years of being one of the worst in the city) [$ free]
2. Dual Spanish immersion in that same school: 1 classroom, 1st year, non-existent reputation at this school but solid at others [$ free]
3. Local Waldorf kindergarten with about 6 children, with my friend, in her home [$ the same amount we'd put away for her college if we chose a free option]

Something tells me that you understand my quandary.
I bet you even understand why I'm craving chocolate...

Clearly, I don't have an answer. But what I do know is that I'd love your input. While I've finally learned that I need to get quiet and seek within for my answer, I also feel strongly that data would feel good right now. Are there legitimate fears I can put to rest? Are there valid considerations to weigh on?

As always, I love being on this journey with you--while I haven't had much time to branch out into the blogging world lately, I love that you come here, as it really makes a difference to feel so in community. This video of my new-found source of inspiration makes me think of us--singing our song together, from all over the world, each in our own beautiful place--and simultaneously reminds me to search within, and listen.

When Eating, Wash a What?

Last year, I went to this really amazing retreat led by Chozen Bays, a Buddhist mindfulness teacher who is also an M.D. It had such an impact on my life at the time, changing not only the way that I ate, but more importantly, my entire relationship with food. While I've slipped back into some of my tendencies to wolf down my dinner and do all sorts of things while eating (including thinking...), the principles still permeate our lives, and very clearly trickle down into Kaya's world as well.

Most recently, she and I were sitting at the table, eating breakfast before school. In the middle of our table, in and around the rocks surrounding a candle, live our Mindful Eating Reminder & Encouragement Cards--a small stack of cards on a ring that Chozen made to support us in our daily lives after the retreat. From this mini deck, Kaya, Geoff and I will often choose a card that serves as a reminder or inspiration for how to eat more mindfully. It's quite a fun game, actually, as we always choose them randomly, and there's never an obligation to participate. So, on this particular morning, I picked up the deck and randomly flipped it open to a card. We both laughed, as it landed on the same card that had come up for me multiple times in the last 4 days:

When Eating, Just Eat.

Clearly, a sign from the universe that I need to be a hell of a lot more present when I'm eating.

So, there I am, determined this time to hone in and be present. I look at the rocks, chewing my cheerios, swallowing my milk, noticing the multitude of textures and flavors in my mouth. And then, Kaya makes a noise that I can't even begin to explain with text. She was wearing her felted owl around her neck (which her teacher at school gifted her for her birthday), and apparently, she'd dripped some milk on his head. Being my mother's daughter, hearing her concerns about souring milk echoing in my head, I gently reach over, grab her owl from his nest, and assure her that all will be well. Nothing a little water can't cure. As I return from the sink, and sit back into my seat, Kaya says something that left me laughing incessantly:

Mama, du hast nicht gehort zu der Karte. Du hast "When eating, just wash a owl!" [Mama, you didn't listen to the card. You did "When eating, just wash a owl!"]

I couldn't believe how tuned in she was, to the card, to me, to the whole concept--and how she brought it all together into this cute little mixed-language statement. And perhaps, the part that had me laughing the hardest was how it sounded when she said 'a owl'. As you may recall, I come from quite the grammar-nazi family--the language nuances were drilled deep, including the types of indefinite pronouns that need to be used before nouns starting with vowels ('an' vs.'a'). So, while it's hard to explain why I found that so funny, and that I certainly wasn't laughing at my daughter for using the 'wrong' article, it added to the hilarity of the whole situation. I laughed so hard, and for so long, that Kaya kept looking at me sideways, saying nothing but "Mom!", pleading me to stop and wondering why I found it so funny.

One day, maybe I'll share more about the 7 types of hungers about which Chozen teaches (Eye Hunger, Mouth Hunger, Nose Hunger, Stomach Hunger, Heart Hunger, Body Hunger, Mind Hunger), as they are pretty fascinating and have definitely made a huge difference in our family. In fact, soon after I came home from the weekend retreat last year, and had taught Geoff and Kaya about the different types, Kaya made a comment one day at the table in which she told me, quite matter of fact, "Mama, ich habe viel Augenhunger in Moment!" [Mama, I have a lot of eye hunger right now!]  This is after days on end of whining to Geoff and I about her desire to eat: "Ich wiw Essen, aber ich hab' kein Hunger!" [I want to eat, but I'm not hungry!]. She would get very angry, screaming and sometimes crying because we'd tell her that we like her to eat when she's hungry because it's healthier, as opposed to just eating for other reasons (it looks good, smells good, seems good, feels good, etc).

There's another retreat coming up in early June, and while I would so love to go to another one and deepen my practice, I couldn't be happier that Geoff has chosen to go instead. I'm quite curious and excited to feel the ripple effects from a different perspective...

German is Here to Stay

If this weren't such a passion of mine, and perhaps more importantly, if I hadn't finally been able to loosen up a good bit around this whole topic, I would feel quite embarrassed at my pomp and circumstance from my post the other day, only to be followed by the experiences of the supposed, Day 1. 

So, there I was, lying in my bed that next morning, hearing the pitter-patter of Kaya's feet at she came into my room to wake me. "Wann stehen wir auf...?" [When are we getting up?] she whispered, more quietly than she usually makes herself known in the mornings. Was that German, I wondered, half-asleep, slowly remembering her excitement of the plan the night before. What do I do? Respond in German, as usual, or stick to our 'plan' and overcome the awkwardness of speaking my native language with my daughter?

I chose the latter, with a half-smile on my face, eagerly wondering how she'd respond. She, too, got a half-smile on hers. "Do you want me to speak English with you?" I asked her. She nodded, silently. So, I kept overcoming my temptation to revert to German, pushing through the strangeness of the communication experience. At this point, a few days later as I write this, it's hard for me to remember all the details of our exchange, but what stands out is when she asked me, about 10 minutes into the morning, when we'd start speaking English together--in German. "I am speaking English with you," I responded, slowly, with a smile. This is after I'd spoken a number of sentences with her in both English and German, and her having spoken only German with me. 

I clearly remember looking at the clock about an hour later, making a mental note that, despite her initial excitement, and her comments about her continuing desire, she still had yet to mutter even one sentence to me in English. Similar to days, weeks, and years prior, she was still inserting a word or two here and there, when she didn't have the word in German to use--but as for full sentences, really making that first step towards transitioning to our 'new structure', nothing.

On the way to school, continuing to live in this strange land where mama speaks a sentence here and there in English, and Kaya responds in only German, Kaya says, "Ich habe Angst, mit dir Englisch zu sprechen..." [I'm scared to speak English with you...] When I asked her if she knew why, she said she didn't. I validated for her that it must feel strange for her, likely in the same way it feels for me. When I picked her up after school--a time which can often be a bit emotionally challenging because she's tired and in need of a break--I wasn't sure which language to choose. So, I went with 'business as usual' from the morning, trying a sentence here and there in English, curious to see how she'd respond. Again, German in response. And, similar to our drive to school, she shared with me again that she was scared to speak English with me. Again, I asked if she knew what felt scary. She bit my head off with that one, telling me adamantly, "Ich weiss es nicht! Ich will nicht mehr darueber sprechen, Mama!" [I don't know! I don't want to talk about it anymore, Mama!] 

What I found so interesting about the day up to that point is that I didn't find myself feeling attached one way or another. Emotionally, I was aware of some relief that I felt, that we have this bond, in this special language, and it won't just 'come apart', just like that. A friend pointed out, a few days later, that it's going to take a lot longer for her to get used to speaking English with me. For sure. As a language teacher, and someone who has started a number of relationships in various languages with people, I know how challenging it can be to switch once you've started--and that doesn't even factor in the mother-daughter emotional bond that exists which naturally contributes to the feelings that accompany the language.

As I'm tucking her into bed that night, after an evening of more of the same (smatterings of English from Mama, only German from Kaya), Kaya says to me, quite calmly and matter-of-fact: " Ich glaube, es geht nicht, Englisch zu sprechen...es ist zu 'weird', mit Dir Englisch zu sprechen." [I believe it's not going to work to speak Englisch...it's too weird to speak English with you.] "Das ist OK," [That's ok] I told her, feeling so much love and admiration in my heart for her ability to just be with what is, and state it as such. "Wir koennen nochmal probieren, wenn wir wollen, wenn es sich nicht so komisch fuehlt." [We can try it again if we want, when it doesn't feel so strange.]

And with that, we kissed goodnight and said goodbye, at least temporarily, to the plan that I actually thought would work (despite all of the evidence I had to the contrary). I wanted it to work--I would love to be able to communicate with each other in my native language at times. And at the same time, I'm relieved it didn't. I am very happy we have this with each other, despite how challenging it feels for both of us at times to say exactly what we want to say. 

But from this whole experience I realize that the German's not going anywhere anytime soon--so, I wonder, why not play around with some English a bit more, at least in those moments when I really want to include others more, or I just want to get something really complicated across to her? Yes, I could be opening Pandora's box to a slippery slope of mixing hell, but it is our life and our relationship, right? We can have our cake and eat it too, to the point that I can support her knowledge and ability in this second language, and simultaneously 'exactify' our ability to communicate as we want in any particular moment?

The next question becomes...what do we do if we actually make the lottery for the Spanish Immersion Program at our local elementary school?!!?

(As always, would LOVE to hear your comments, input, or shared experiences! Thanks for traveling this journey with us!)

Changing the Structure After 5 Years?!

It's been so long since I've written on this here lil' blog that I was surprised that my computer even remembered the address when I typed the first three letters. If it hadn't been for those of you vocal and committed readers, letting me know you're out there, sharing your thoughts in response to my past posts, I probably would have had to go through the effort of typing out every last letter.

On a more serious note, I so appreciate reminders that you're out there. In fact, the most recent note I received is likely the reason that I'm here now.
So, thank you!
I've missed you, dear international community.
And I've missed blogging.

But I'm back. Hopefully for a while, but at least for tonight.
Things are brewin' on the bilingual horizon and I couldn't not share.

As I left Kaya's room tonight, after tucking her in, I hear from her, in her sweet little 5-year-old voice, "Ich hab' dich lieb, sehr sehr sehr sehr sehr viel!" [I love you, very very very very very much!]

A Look of Confidence that Pierces
Oneonta Gorge in the Columbia River Gorge

Heart-melting, without a doubt.
To be quickly followed up with a similarly sweet, "Schlaf schoen, Mami!"

As much as I'd like to wax on a side note about the strangeness of this whole 'Mami' phase, after being called 'Mama' for 4 years, and most recently 'Mom', I will stick to the point that I was originally wanting to make: after the last 3 years of speaking only German with one another, using the commonly known methodology of OPOL (one parent, one language), it is still the language we use to communicate, albeit for a few words here and there that we both throw in when we don't know the term in German.

That makes me really happy!
Especially when I consider the road we traveled to get here.

AND...it's about to all change.
Tomorrow.

As you may know, if you've been around since the beginning, or been curious enough to explore my posts from back then, I've certainly had my moments where I was ready to give up, and gave it very strong consideration. Granted, I never planned on throwing in the towel completely...it was more a matter of wanting to lighten the 'burden', the stress of not knowing (particular words, phrases, and more challenging, what the outcome would be), the pressure (of feeling like I should know more, speak better, etc), the fear (would we have enough connection, would she suffer somehow?), the doubt (is all this effort 'worth it'?). I thought about all sorts of different arrangements that I might work to ease my stress, including picking certain days, or parts of days, when we might speak some English with each other. I even remember a time, a few Christmases ago, when I thought we might whisper when we wanted to speak English. That seems so funny now.  But I never 'let' myself try any of those alternatives. As much as I was very committed to her proficiency in German, I was also very afraid of what might happen if I did let up. And, underneath that, what that might mean about me if I did?

Apparently, the intense personal development and coaching training has paid off, for I'm no longer stopped by my fear in this arena (and how great that feels!)...:

As I was lying in bed with her, noticing how many English words she was infusing into her story from her day at school today, I asked her if she liked speaking German with me. "Jaaah," [yeeaah...] she said, wriggling with her whole body and burying her face in her pillow. As our conversation progressed, it became clear to me that she does like speaking German with me, and doesn't want to lose it, but is curious about and interested in speaking English with me, as well.

Me, too.
There has definitely been a part of me, since the beginning actually, that has wanted to have at least part of my relationship with my daughter in my native language--the reason that many, if not most?, bi- or multilingual parents choose the language they do with their children.
I'm no exception.

"Ich habe eine gute Idee," [I have a good idea] Kaya proclaimed, as we continued our discussion, snuggling close in the darkness of her room. "Wir koennten ein Jahr English sprechen, und dann ein Jahr Deutsch." [We could speak for one year in English, and one year in German.] I wasn't sure if she really meant 'year', or if she was going for another time frame--she is still learning the concept of time, and often gets the concepts confused, if not just the words (the bilingual thing definitely confuses the issue). After clarifying with her that she knew what a year really felt like (from the beginning of one school year, to the end, plus a whole summer), she verified that she really did mean 'year', and proceeded to explain to me why she thought this was a good idea. Granted, her reasoning wasn't much more than an explanation of what we'd do, but it was clearly her argument. One year English, then the next in German. Simple as that.

As much as I'm into the idea of exploring options at this point, especially with my fluent 5 year old, I'm not into losing the language, which, I shared with her, is likely what would happen if we took an entire year off from the language. While not initially convinced, she ultimately heard me, enough to listen to my 'counter-proposal': "Wir koennten an einem Tag der Woche Englisch sprechen," [We could speak English one day a week] not quite confident about my idea, but happier with it than the idea of losing our German. She clearly didn't like that idea. "Was?!" [What?!] was her quick rebuttal. "Nur ein Tag?!" [Only one day?] As we lay there, ruminating on this idea that neither of us was so fond of, Kaya chimes in again. "Ich habe eine gute Idee! Wir koennten ein Tag Deutsch und dann ein Tag Englisch" [I have a good idea! We could do one day German, and then one day English.]

What you gotta understand about this idea is how representative it is of how often this happens. Generally, we think of ourselves, as adults, as knowing more than kids, right? I mean, in my case, I've been on this planet for 35 years longer than my daughter, you'd think that I'd know more, and have more (and more unique?) ideas than my five year old. Well, apparently, bilingualism (or maybe it's just childhood?!) trumps my level of confidence, because it happens quite regularly that didn't even cross my mind--even on those topics, like this one, where I've been mulling for 3 years!
Kaya will come up with an idea that

Ingenious. One day on, one day off. The idea might exist in certain parenting books, but not any of the many that I read in her upbringing.

As I mulled this idea over in my head, as much as I loved it, I also noticed myself feeling a bit hesitant about what it might mean for her (our?!) German. She's already mixing quite a bit, particularly on days like today where she spent the last 40 hours in an English-speaking environment. So, I proposed an amendment: "Ich habe eine Idee! Wie waere es, wenn wir an den deutschen Tagen Deutsch sprachen, und an den Englischen Tagen, Englisch mit Deutsch wenn wir wollten?" [I have an idea! What about if we spoke German on the German days, and English on the English days with the option of speaking German if we wanted?]

Nein.
Her antipathy was clear. That idea was not going to fly.

And with that, she responded calmly, "Ich habe eine Idee! Wie waere es, wenn wir an den deutschen Tagen Deutsch sprachen, und an den Englischen Tagen, Englisch?!" [What about if we spoke German on the German days, and English on the English days?] I know it may not seem so funny on the screen, and it didn't seem funny to her either ("Mama, das ist nicht lustig..." [Mama, that's not funny...she said, laughing along with me], but I found it hilarious that she would propose that, as if so sarcastically to make her point.

So, that's what we're doing.
After 3 years of one method, 5 years of only ever speaking to my daughter in German (with a few explosive exceptions here and there), the structure is about to change. Yes, I'm a bit concerned, as I shared with her, a bit fearful that it might be a slippery slope and we'll never 'get it back' to this point ("Warum hast du Angst, Mama? Es ist nur...um...sprechen mit Deutsch...?" [Why are you afraid, Mama? It's only...um...speaking with German...]). And she, too, has her fears, as she shared with me just before I left her room: "Mama, ich habe Angst, dass wir morgen anfangen..." [Mama, I'm scared about starting tomorrow...]

But despite our minimal fears and concerns, we are both excited!
It's wonderful to be in a place, as George Saunders shares in his book, Bilingual Children: From Birth to Teens, where I can discuss with my daughter what she wants to do. Granted, I'm still older, with more experience on language proficiency, and what it takes to maintain fluency. But, as I highlighted above, she's clearly got me trumped on some other facets of her idea propagation.

Maybe TRUST is one of them...

Fairies and Gnomes Speaking in English

This morning, as I was rushing around the house trying to get us ready for our road-trip, Kaya starts telling me a story. Initially, it sounded pretty similar to much of what she'll say to me, full of passion and interest and a strong desire for me to connect and share her experience. But as I listened further, it slowly began to differentiate itself from other things she'll share. It was a story in German, as is normal with her still in her communication with me, but what began to be very clear is that she was relating not only an experience she had at school (which doesn't happen all that often), but that she was retelling a story that she's been hearing at school lately. A story about a girl who hears Mother Earth calling to her, and what happens with the Feen [fairies] and Wichtel [gnomes] when they heed her calling. Ok, so maybe that doesn't make sense, and I'm outing myself as way more interested in the fact that she was telling me the story, and how than I was in the details (that's the story of my life, actually!).

She was following me around the house as she told me of the adventures of the girl and how she couldn't find the Wichtel and the Feen. As I beckoned her with my hand to come into my room (so as not to interrupt), she continued to her story, adding the song of Mother Earth. But what was different about this part of the story was that it was in English. Not so strange, as we'll often insert words here and there when we don't know how to say them in German. She continued the rest of the 'song' in English, and then, as she went back to narrating in the 3rd person, shifted back into German. Following me into the kitchen, she shared about how the "girl war traurig, weil sie die Gnomes und die Feen nicht finden konnte" [the girl was sad because she couldn't find the gnomes and fairies]. I was a bit surprised at how she was inserting words in English that she knew in German--but felt simultaneously in awe that she was taking the time and effort to interpret this whole story for me into German from English. And then, it hit me. As she continued to tell the story, I realized she was doing all of the narrating in German but all of the conversing in English. Every time the girl or the gnome or Mother Earth would speak, it was in English. But when she was explaining to me what they were doing or where they were going or how they were feeling...it was in German.

I don't even know what to say that.
Again, I'm in awe.

It makes me feel aMAzed at this whole process, about how the brain works and how she makes the choices she does with the languages she has available to her.

The thing about the English in this story is that in no way was it intended as an 'out' to not speak German, or as a test--which she will do and has been doing more so lately. When our neighbor, Simon, comes over, who understands German but generally speaks only English, Kaya will look at me directly and say something in English, clearly waiting to see how I'll respond. I realize how clear it is to her that I speak German with Si and how he speaks English back--and how that works for him. She is naturally wondering, in certain moments, if that will work for her. Not because she doesn't like speaking German with me--she continues to tell me that she likes that we speak German together--but because she's curious. It goes against what she's used to. To help her with this, I find myself tending to speak English with Si, and when I do, she seems to 'test' me less. I wonder if or when this will change--I would love to support his German, but also find it not nearly as fun speaking to him in German when he speaks back in English. Similar to how I felt about 2 1/2 years ago before Kaya started speaking all German to me.

So, in regards to this insertion of English dialogue, it does feel different, and I continue to find it fascinating. She told me that I could make a video of her relating that story to me, so hopefully I'll make it happen soon and put it here or in another post.

But in the meantime, I'll end on this other gem that she shared with me out of the blue as we were driving to school. As you might imagine, it brought tears to my eyes. And for those of you readers who are newer to our lives and may not know, Nana is my mom who died from Non-hodgkins Lymphoma when Kaya was 1 1/2, about 3 1/2 years ago. Kahlua was our 2nd family dog, who we put down a few years ago because he'd bitten too many people. She loved them both dearly, and hears us speaking fondly of them quite often:

"Mama, weisst du was? Wenn ich an Nana und Kahlua denke, ich sehe sie in einem Feld, mit hohem Gras, zusammen spielen." [Mama, you know what? When I think of Nana and Kahlua, I see them in a field of tall grass, playing together.]

Pirates, Pictures, and Purposeful Integration

Nearly every night, save for those occasions when Kaya is beside herself with exhaustion, we read a book and tell a story before bed. This rings a bell. I think I've mentioned this before. So, from an update standpoint, we still do it. And from a far more interesting perspective, I thought I might share a little twist from tonight's ritual that ended up being quite a fun way to integrate Dada, the non-German speaker, into a German story.

As a backdrop, if you're not as well-versed on our situation, Geoff didn't know more than a few words of German when we started our bilingual journey nearly 5 years ago. Now he says that he gets the gist of about 90% of what we say. Not bad at all for the passive approach, huh, simply being around German and not having to speak it?! (kudos, Geoff!) We used to have all these grand plans, usually including, in some form or fashion, his incorporation of Rosetta Stone to make sure he'd be able to 'keep up'. And that may well be a necessity one day soon, as he hesitantly admits that his understanding is dropping as Kaya gets older, and that he might only understand about 65-70% of what we actually say.

But for tonight's purposes, snuggling on the couch and reading out of Das grosse Bildermaus Geschichtenbuch [The big picture-mouse story book], his level of German was not only fine but quite impressive!







We started towards the back of the book where they have all the pictures with the corresponding words. We went down the list, starting with 'Meer' [ocean] and continuing with Insel and Sonne and Regen. For most of the words, I asked Kaya to tell us what the picture was--"und das ist eine...?" [and that is a...?], to which she would respond with a smile and the accurate word in German. A number of the words were new for her (and me, for that matter, too!), and for those, I would simply tell her--"Das sind zwei Anker." [Those are two ankers.] For some of the words, she knew the English, and would say that, but for the most part, we stayed in German until we got through the list.


Kaya decided, quite excitedly, that she wanted to read 'Die Flotte des Koenigs' [The King's Fleet]--one of the pirate stories in the book. She and Geoff have been playing pirates lately, and it's definitely one of her favorite things to do lately. In fact, the other night, she even told me, "Mama, ich wiw dass du jetzt in die Ahbeit gehst, damit ich Piraten mit Dada spielen kann..." [Mama, I want you to go to work now so that I can play pirates with Dada!], which is quite a shift after the usual tears or dread surrounding my need to work. So, naturally, the pirate story was on the docket.

We've read from similar books before, specifically with the incorporated pictures, but never together with Geoff. So, I thought it might be fun for us to flip-flop back and forth between them as we'd come to a picture. And while it took them a few sentences to get the rhythm down, with my reading the words and them saying the pictures, it was quite fun once we got rolling! Geoff remembered just about every word for all of his pictures, and Kaya would break out in a huge grin when one of us would whisper the word before she'd say it aloud. Her grins ultimately turned into laughter, and we all decided we needed to read the 'Pirateninsel', too. [Pirate Island]

There's one other story ritual that we have at times that similarly makes for quite the integration of languages. While we'll often just tell a story from the innermost reaches of our right brain, sometimes it's kind of nice to have some story fodder. So, Geoff came up with this idea many moons ago in which he opens to a page in picture book (Richard Scary's Wunderbare Welt der Wimmelbilder [Richard Scary's Biggest Word Book Ever] is one of our favorites for this, though the picture dictionaries--like First Thousand Words in German-- are great, too!) and starts telling a story about a character on the page.

The trick is that he doesn't tell Kaya which character is the star, so she has to listen to the development of the story while she looks for the character on the page. Tonight's story, for example, was about a kitty who wanted to sleep because she was so tired (the page, as you may know, is filled with all sorts of kitties, and pigs, and foxes all doing different things in different locations). Try as she might, she simply couldn't find a place to slumber. She tried the first house, but it was too loud because they were laying bricks and bending pipe. The next house was too loud because they were installing plumbing and a chimney. And the next house was getting new windows and a roof. But finally, the kitty found a nice quiet place to sleep on top of the steel structure (?!).

As you can imagine, Geoff told his story in English--while he's learned a lot, it would be quite a feat if he knew how to say chimney and plumbing and steel structure (not even sure I know the latter two!). And as you might guess, when I play, I tell my stories in German, as I did tonight with one about a mean piggy who got pushed into the water by the kitties and was thankfully rescued by a compassionate kitty with a crane. She struggled a bit with this one, which can be quite fun in regards to the hide-and-seek component of the game. Where is the piggy with soggy pants so sad and so saved?

 I do a lot less wondering and worrying now about what our family might be like down the road with two different languages. I used to worry quite a bit, though, struggling to conceptualize how a family could be anything close to cohesive with such a language differential. I do recognize that our situation is a bit unique in that Geoff understands enough to fit in (and then some)--but in moments like tonight, where I'm hyper-aware of the language experience, I definitely appreciate that bilingualism has done anything but pull us apart.

Marvin's Adventures in Bilingualand

As hesitant as I am to share this video, in part because of my personal criticism of my own German (for those German speakers out there!) as well as the bird nest in my daughter's hair (who wants to inflict discomfort on their baby when she's sick?!), I think it paints a pretty good picture of a few concepts that might be nice to illustrate at this stage of our bilingual journey. 

First of all, since it's been a while since an update like this, I think it would be good 'for the record' (this one's for you, Kaya!) to share that we continue to speak all German 99.9% of the time. I can remember 2 instances in the past 2 months when I've spoken to her in English, and when I do, it's out of extreme frustration and a few words are enough to get me back on track to German. Similar amounts of English come out of her mouth towards me, though not in moments of frustration--simply when she just doesn't know the word. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm more loose with my English in that regard with her, and from time to time, I'll say the word in English, usually prefacing that I don't know how to say it in German but this is what it is in English.  This video illustrates some of this point pretty well when Kaya is telling me how old Marvin is and says "seven" instead of 'sieben'. This similarly highlights some of the challenges that she has with her language, numbers being one of them. Without having done the research (Annabelle of the piri-piri lexicon might know this, though!?), I'd guess that it's pretty normal for kids to struggle to in this regard--while she knows how to count sequentially in both languages (I'm not exactly sure how high in each, though has def. been playing in the 20's in both, and likely higher in English), it's hard for her to name a number outright in German straight from English. At times she can do it, but 7 seems to be causing her challenges lately. This is something that I see with my language students as well, though...sequential counting comes first, then the skill of being able to name numbers out of order. 

There are a couple of other points that I thought I might highlight with this video, too, specifically regarding the topic of the conversation in itself. Kaya has a whole world invented regarding which of her 'children' and 'friends' know German, English or both. This video was my cursory attempt to get into this world of hers and come out with an understanding of who can do what. I think it's fascinating, this concept, and would love to dig into her reasoning of whence and wherefore. Apparently, as you can read in my transcription below, Marvin (the monkey) is her only 'friend' who knows German.--nothing like creativity!) Actually, to be more accurate, I think Marvin is one of her children (ignore the fact that he's older than she is In fact, as I find out later in the video, he's bilingual too, just like Kaya. This kid, much like myself as a child, has a whole world of 'friends', including the newest to the bunch, Coco (the eaglet). And you'd think with a name like 'Tante Jamie' (Aunt Jamie...who is our German-speaking next door neighbor), that baby of hers would be able to speak or at least understand German. But alas, Marvin is the only one. Not Stella, either, who happens to have the same name as our host daughter from Germany (named BEfore we knew about her, I swear! Destiny?). Nor Hazel, nor Max, nor Kylee.

And for those grammar geeks out there like me (and my sister!), you might be curious to know that, while she sometimes puts her infinitives accurately at the end of the sentences after conjugated modal verbs, and kicks her verbs after appropriate conjunctions, she had a even split in this conversation: once, while talking about baby talk, she puts it in the middle, but when asking me to get her a nose rag, she puts it at the end. And to top off the grammar analysis, she has a tendency to confuse some idiomatic expressions (I think that's what they are!?), like the one in this conversation where she says, "alter dann mir" instead of 'aelter als ich'. I didn't learn that term until 2nd or 3rd year college German, so I can only guess this type of mistake is pretty common for little kiddos in German, too?

So, despite my geeked-out, language teacher analysis, it's pretty easy for me to celebrate the fact that, after about 2 years now, Kaya continues to speak fluent German with me--and teachers at German Saturday School or Sommercamp--and while it does tend to lag a bit behind her English development, I watch it grow. Never really 'catching up', but the spurts happen in both languages, and are pretty clear to me. Which is really quite amazing to me--as normal as it now seems.

I continue to have my phases where I want to give up, or at least give up with this intensity of this OPOL (one-parent, one language) method, as I felt quite strongly 7 months ago. But as with many of the phases I experience in this process, they all seem to pass as I continue to lean on and call on the support of the amazing community I have in my life (that's you!). 

So, without further ado, I now welcome you to take a peek into a few moments of our afternoon as Kaya was home sick from school and excitedly playing with her babies in the swing that we just put up on her bed for them:

Mama: Welche von deinen Kindern koennen Deutsch sprechen? Oder verstehen? [Which of your kids can speak German? Or understand it?]

Kaya: Uh, Marvin. 

Mama: Und die anderen nicht? [And the others can't?]

Kaya: Nein. [No.]

Mama: Oder koennen sie beide, Deutsch und Englisch? [Or can they speak both, German and English?]

Kaya: Er kann Engrisch und Deutsch, und sie kann nur sprechen wie ein Baby! [He can speak English and German and she can only speak like a baby!]

Mama: Ohhh .Babysprache. Das ist eine ganz andere Sprache, oder? [Oh, baby talk. That's a whole different language, huh?]

Kaya: Ja. [yeah.]

Mama: Ja. 

Kaya: Kannst du mein Naselappen holen? (off screen...Was hast du gesagt?) [Can you get my nose rag? What did you say?]

Kaya: Hab 'No highers'. [I said "no highers"]

Mama: No highers? Ich dachte er konnte Deutsch. [No highers? I thought he could speak German?]

Kaya: Ja er kann doch. [Yeah, he can.]

Mama: Kann er beide? [Can he speak both?]

Kaya: Ja. [Yeah.] (looking at me as if to say, Well, YEAH, Mom. Isn't it obvious?!)

Mama: Oh, wie du. Er ist zweisprachig. [Oh, like you. He's bilingual.]

Kaya: Aber er ist alter dann mir. [But he's older than me.] (translated directly, grammatically incorrect)

Mama: Oh, alter als du? Wie alt ist er denn? [Oh, older than you (repeated back grammatically correctly)?

Kaya: Seven. 

Mama: Sieben? [Seven?]

Kaya: Ja. Machst du ein Video? [Yeah. Are you taking a video?]

Mama: Ja. Willst du es sehen? [Yeah. Do you want to see it?]

Kaya: Ja. [Yeah.]

Any input you have, or stories you'd like to share below would be, as always quite welcome and very appreciated!

Patience and Persistence and Pay-Off

I'm sitting here in the sunshine, on this epic Fall day here in the Pacific Northwest, wishing I could be taking it in more and letting IT be the catalyst for a different mood. And at the same time, I'm learning--slowly--the true value in being able to accept 'what is', however uncomfortable it is, and let that be part of the process to getting where we want to be.

So, here I sit, feeling a bit drab. Disappointed might be a better word. I just had a coaching conversation with a client with whom I've been working for months, and as hopeful as I was about it--after a truly epic and inspiring week of training in Ottawa--it didn't go as I expected. I wasn't able to apply all of what I was hoping to apply in the way I was hoping to apply it. As thorough and life-changing as this method is, as many changes as I continue to see in client after client, it feels really hard at times to really apply it as it's designed to be applied. Did his mood change? Yes. For sure. Was he able to see a few things in a different light? I believe so. Was I able to make some new moves, try some new things, like I set out to do before I started? Yes, I suppose I was. But talking myself, cognitively, into believing that it's 'good enough' just isn't working right now.

As I was procrastinating on preparing for my next client, I saw the window for my blog, open in my browser, and I began to wonder about the connection between my experience now and that of my bilingual journey. Perhaps because writing feels so therapeutic for me--just like the research supports!--and I am now, once again, committed to staying connected here, to you, my amazing blogging community. And I really want to be in a different space when my next client comes in a few hours. So, while I was reflecting and wondering about similarities, it hit me that, just as it took me a while to feel comfortable speaking my non-native language to Kaya, it will similarly take me a while to really get this methodology in my bones. I want it there now. I want to be an Master Level Integral Coach right now. But as I lay it out here, in black and white, I realize how unrealistic that is. It takes time, and that's why I'm in training. It won't happen over night. None of it does, be it German, Spanish, English, coaching, banjo, dog training, (and especially) parenting...

I never really realized what a lesson this bilingual journey could serve for me, but it's quite clear now:

Patience and persistence does make a difference...
together with a HUGE dose of self-compassion and love.

Soon, I'll post a video to illustrate this fact. But for now, it's prep time.
Thanks for joining me in this journey...

Does Absence Make the Language Difference Grow Stronger?

It's just after midnight and in order to see the words I'm typing, I have to keep blinking to moisten my contacts. But I can stay away no longer. When I look at the date of my last post and see that it's been more than 3 months since I last wrote, I cringe. As usual, I've had moment after moment, thought after painstaking thought, of what I might write to break this longstanding silence. And then I don't--for all sorts of reasons, fear being only one of them. I know, I know, what the hell might I be afraid of!? Well, I suppose I continue to recognize this desire to 'make it good' and if I don't think I can, I don't.

But alas, the more I get to know that tendency, the more gently it can just slip away...so here I am.
Finally.

And oh, does it feel so good.
I'm glad to be back. Every time I return, I remember how much I appreciate and miss you--this little international community of bloggers whom I've 'gotten to know' over the years as Kaya grows up.

I've been away for so long spending most of my time on two primary 'front burners' in my life (it's not just a personal desire for perfection that keeps me away from the keyboard). One of the passions I've written about a great deal, and surely will write about more with time: climate change. The other, while not directly related, has very much to do with that concept, as I hope to, one day, merge my desire to create a stable climate and future with my passion for coaching others to make a difference. While I don't know how exactly I plan to get there, and where my path will land, I am on the journey...and as much as I love it, it certainly doesn't leave as much time for blogging as I'd like.

But before my eyes cloud over completely, I want to at least get out some of the thoughts I was having this afternoon regarding coming home after more than a week away from Kaya.

While I know, cognitively, that there's always an adjustment period, it always seems to hit me in a way that I least expect it. I find myself feeling sad that we can't connect in the way that I imagine it: with her running up to me in the airport, jumping into my arms, and covering me with kisses. Just like in the movies. Or maybe in the movies, it's the mom who does that to the kid...but the kid is definitely into it (as long as she's under 8!). At least that's how it is in my movie. But in my life, it doesn't look that way at all. Instead, it takes us about a day to get back into that place of feeling truly connected, to that point where she's actually happy to be riding behind my bike on her tagalong instead of Dada's. Or where she's hugging my leg in addition to his.

I tell myself that it makes sense. I know it does. I've been gone for 8 days, and she's been with her grandparents for 5 of those days--I know that, at least for her, she needs some adjustment time. But admittedly, I do find myself wondering if, and how much, the bilingualism has to do with that need. As you may know, Kaya is fluent in both English and German, and speaks German with me and English with everyone else in her family and community. Thus, while at Grahms and Grandpa's, it's all English, all the time. When I called, in fact, to say hello and 'I love you' last Wednesday, she wasn't interested, and handed the phone back to Grandpa. In my doubting mind, I wonder if the transition would be smoother if she and I spoke the same language as she speaks with everyone else? Do her words get rusty? Is it a language thing or a Kaya thing?

As I mulled all of these thoughts around this afternoon, I found myself dancing with the thought of how grown up she seems, and noticed a tug of sadness at my heartstrings. Is she growing up in English and I'm not noticing it because I'm with her in German all of the time? Or is it that I was just gone for a week, and she really did grow up a good bit, using word "like" in her storytelling in English: he was, like, going all over the place! (I remember when my dad forbade me to use that word around him in middle school!)

And then, as our connection grew with every passing hour this afternoon, I began to recognize the 'growing up' in her German, too. Her language flowed as she spoke, pointing out the Katze [cat] and other notables in our neighborhood as we pedaled down the street.

And as I sat on that seat, riding down the street, hearing her behind me with all of her excitement for all that was around us, it hit me that I just need to follow her lead and do the same. For it's the flowers and the kitties and the neighborhood pups that can serve to remind us of what is here and now, and what isn't.

It's nice to be back. I look forward to 'seeing' you soon--and, of course, as always, would SO love to hear from you below!

Love Trumps

Sometimes, I really feel like blogging mirrors my sugar addiction. There I was on email, connecting quickly with a friend, when I heard myself think: I wonder how the blog is doing? Worded differently, I wonder if we're on the upswing? I don't know for sure if i'm more tempted to write on the down-swing or the up, but either way, I couldn't stay away from a post. It was like having ice cream in the freezer after an overwhelming evening: too tempting.

It might not be so alluring if I hadn't had this amazing love fest with Kaya tonight during bed time--clear fodder for a long-overdue blog post. It was one of those moments that gets immediately filed in that happy place, one that you're sure will be with you forever.

Geoff was just starting in on the guitar, singing her some lullabies as one of both of us does every night. She and I were lying on her loft bed, next to one another under the covers. After we got her all situated--including getting cream and benadryl for this awfully itchy rash on her back and tucking snuggle-monkey into the crook of her neck--she nestled into the covers and grabbed my hand. For a few minutes, she'd be on her left, only to roll quickly on to her right--where we'd then be facing each other. Within a few minutes, her fidgeting slowed and she started staring at me. But it wasn't just any stare. It was this look, a deep penetrating connection, through the biggest smile I've ever seen on anyone's face. Ever. She just smiled. And stared. And when I thought her smile couldn't get any bigger, it did. Along with mine. We just stared. And smiled. And laughed, at times, when the smile could no longer contain our joy.

As I lay there, gazing into her smiling face, it hit me:
Yes, I worry about her level of German, and whether it will carry us through the communication I want us to have in our lives.
Yes, I tend to believe that she's far more verbose and expressive in English right now.
Yes, I find myself wondering what to do about these beliefs and concerns, wondering even further if my perspective is skewed.
But what I don't worry about is our love and the connection we have behind language.

Throughout this bilingual journey, I realize how much emphasis I've put on the words, on the abilities to learn them, to form them into sentences, connected by intricate and accurately-used conjunctions. But what I've tended to ignore until now is the power behind the words, and all that can be and is expressed above and beyond language.

Who knows if Kaya is a different kid in German than she is in English. Sometimes I think so.
And who knows if we'll do this forever.

But when I come back to that 'love fest', to that presence and power, it fuels me.
It leaves me with a sense of confidence that, as many concerns as I've had about the pros and cons of this journey, love trumps.

Collision of Dreams

This really is the last thing I should be doing right now, starting a post at 10:45pm. But I can't help it! I've missed writing, missed connecting with you all, missed being able to slow my thoughts down enough and capture all the amazing experiences and quotes and memories of our bilingual adventure with Kaya.

Backpacking Last Wknd on the Lower Salmon River 

So, tonight, I had to at least take a few moments to get my butt back online and at least MARK the moment. After all these years of concern, of wondering whether to focus on German or on the Outdoor thing, I finally bumped into an opportunity that allows us to do both. Granted, not necessarily at the exact same time, but in the big picture of things, both are happening, and that naturally makes me exceedingly happy.

To make my point more clear, Kaya started at Kindersommer this morning, through the German American School of Portland, where she'll be immersed in German songs, games, crafts and books for the next two weeks, 9-3pm (and then again for the last few weeks of summer, too). It's really a dream come true for me, despite the long hours away from my babe, and shethat made me even more  thankful that I bumped into the idea online, too.
's quite happy too: an amazing opportunity within the city, in our own country even, for her to be surrounded by German by people other than me. After school, in fact, I bumped into a woman from LA, California (who so generously shared raspberries and blueberries with Kaya!) who found the program online when they weren't able to make their yearly trip to Germany. They drove up here as a family just so their kids could take part in the program! Hearing

While I didn't hear a ton about her experience today, I did get lots of smiles and heard a story about her new friend whose name she knows but couldn't say and reminds her of a different friend, Anya. I'd put quotes around that, but she told me this in German, so it wouldn't be quite as accurate. But this girl was "sehr nett" [very nice], and they played together for much of the day, Kaya told me. AND they read a book by the same author of one of her favorite books, Silly Sally (since, as Mama didn't really realize, the whole theme of these next two weeks is on Audrey Wood!). For me, aside from having so much time to get tons of work done and so many errands run, the best part was how the teachers knew exactly what to do to help Kaya warm up to a brand new experience in a brand new place. For a mama, there's nothing more relieving than having a teacher who can take your stressed-out, gripping-your-wrist child and gently transform them into a quiet, relaxed being who's now eager to adventure and join the group.

Definitely a sign that we made a good choice on this one!

Soon, oh so very soon I hope, I'll dive into the annals of our language experience of late...definitely lots to say on that front from our wild and wonderful little four and half year old bilingual. But until then, it's nice to be back. I hate being gone that long...