We’ve all been spending more time indoors than I prefer lately. I’ve seen enough Daniel Tiger and Super Why to hold me over for a couple years. We’ve painted, we’ve colored, we’ve baked, we’ve talked non-stop.
But this week, I convinced Ella to spend a good thirty minutes or so just brushing my hair and wielding a hair dryer. Definitely my favorite game so far.
So she brushed and teased and dried. And then she circled around to see my face and assess her work. “Muy bella,” she declared.
Actually, I didn’t know what she said. But all the sudden, startled, Billy hollered out, “Yeah, muy bella! That’s right!” And started hooting and whooping. (I would've thought that would be a word I would recognize, but Billy pronounces it "vay-yah," which I didn't expect.)
I think it may be on the very first times she just busted out Spanish un-coerced and without any English.
Little by little, she’s been speaking in Spanglish. In the grocery store: “Mom, we need more rojo yogurt. It’s muy good.” At home: “Where’s my amarillo cup?”
And my favorite: "In Spanish "cape" is capa." Wait for it... "Mama, can you say capa?" Thank you to our Bat Girl pajamas for teaching us that word.
Overall, I’m simply fascinated. I mean, I know this was our hope, but it feels so surreal to see my baby speaking two different languages. And one I don’t really know on top of that.
It’s official. She’s smarter than me. Now I can return to my original insecurities that my trio of bilingual loves will talk and joke and leave me out. Ha!
Okay, well, we’re not there yet. And maybe if that ever happens, I’ll actually be quite proud of them.
Photo thanks to David Park.
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