Spanish

The time has come for me to finally confess that I have been a total failure at speaking Spanish to my children.  There, I said it. 

Honestly, I never expected life to be so complex in that area.  I grew up speaking Spanish.  At about age 6 I was magically introduced into a bilingual world without really having a clue that it was happening.  All of a sudden, all things had two names:  the old, regular name I learned at home and the new name the teachers at school were telling me.  As a good first born, I set my heart out to pleasing my teachers and obediently called things by the name they told me.  I resolved that as long as I compartmentalized school language at school and home language at home, everybody would be happy.  (My little brother came home after his first day of school telling my mom his teachers didn't know what they were talking about... "They were calling "amarillo" yellow!!!").  English slowly became a huge part of my life and I never really stopped studying it.  I've taught it, I've diagrammed it, I've translated and interpreted it into Spanish and I eventually married it.

Learning to live in English was interesting.  All along I had been very fluent in all office, commercial, legal and even Christian lingo, however menial things of everyday life were beyond me.  How do I tell the hair stylist how I want my hair cut?  How do I explain the hem on a dress? (Please picture these thoughts in Spanish...I'm writing them in English for your benefit)  What's the difference between a porch and a deck?  a cellar and an attic? (actually, I may still not quite know those).

On the glorious day that, after 8 hrs stuck on 8 cm dilation, my sweet little girl made her entrance into this world, they put her in my arms. I looked at her and for a few seconds before I greeted her, I hesitated... What do I speak to her in?  (Only for a couple seconds, mind you!)  My first words to her were uttered in Spanish.  That settled it, mothering came to me naturally in Spanish.  I talked to her in Spanish ALL.THE.TIME.

All the time, that is, until she could utter her own responses back.  That was the end of me!  Since then, I diligently begin the day like this (I kid you not, this is really an every day routine!).  "¡Niñas!!! ¡Vengan a lavarse los dientes!"  To which they properly respond:  "ok, Mommy!"  and as they march into the bathroom and the official exchange of information begins I don´t even realize when we switch it back to English. 

Sometimes I manage to hold out a little longer:  "¿Listas?  Busquen sus tazas antes de bajar, por favor"  to which they respond  "We already brushed our teeth, Mama!"  So, with a baby in arms I try gestures... "No.... no los dientes... la taza... de leche... anoche? lechita? -sigh- milk... cups, the milk cups, please find the milk cups" 

The next course of action... I will probably have to say things twice anyway, why not make one of those times in Spanish... but then twice inevitably turns to thrice and time is of the essence (or at least I feel that way at that particular time), the phone rings, I lose my train of thought and... you get the picture.

It should be so simple... right?  It is my language, after all... alas it´s still eluding me and now I am panicking that my children won´t learn Spanish.  Can you say pathetic?  So there, my next attempt will be over a pre-school book in Spanish... wish me luck!