Growing up bi-lingual doesn't just happen. It takes dedication, a great deal of patience, and often repeating words constantly. My French Husband speaks French to the children; naturally, I speak English to them.
When Chelsea was three years old, she said with sweet reflection, "Mere de Dieu." I looked at my French Husband and saw him beaming with pride. He whispered, "Chelsea said, "Mother of God in French"." He translated, "She is praying."
Chelsea repeated, "Mer-de…Dieu!" Then she started to giggle. I looked at my French Husband and asked if I was missing an inside joke or something. He shook his head no but studied Chelsea with a very stern look.
"Mer...de... dieu." She repeated, giggling louder.
Then went on to say with a sweet little voice, "Mere de Dieu." She repeated this over and over, once with a sweet voice and then Merde Dieu with a stern voice. Each time, giggling harder and harder. "Mer-de Dieu. Mere de Dieu. Merde Dieu. Merde Dieu. Mere de Dieu…"
Glancing over at French Husband, he was shocked silly. Chelsea was hearing the sounds of the words "mere de," which means, "mother of." Then saying them quickly together mere-de, realizing she was saying, "merde," which means shit in English.
One of the best things about being a bi-lingual family is moments like this. I leaned over to my French Husband and beamed, "At least I know she didn't learn it from me… I speak English."
Photo: Vintage holy cards that pray lovingly to the Mother of God correctly in French.
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