Tuesday, 29 March 2011

woe is Sebastian

He had a rough weekend. He didn't want to eat, or wash his hands, or do what his mother told him. He wanted to play catch, and monster and lots of other things, which his brother didn't understand, or his mother didn't have time to do.

He wanted to go to the windsurf school, but it was raining.

He couldn't express all his desires because he gets his languages mixed up, and he can't pronounce the letters, S, R, TH, and sometimes L. His parents don't understand him most of the time.

He wanted to watch Vai Diego, but couldn't. Everytime the TV went on, it was in the wrong language, and his parents don't know instantly what program he wants in what language.

And the worst of it, is that his mother kept yelling at him every time he got angry about the above. She yelled so often, and so loud, and even said at one point, that she didn't want to be his mother any more. She banged the door and went onto the balcony because she was so angry. He could tell that she was close to doing hurtful things to him.

Thankfully, his mother got a grip, and decided to be more patient. That was on Monday when she went to work. Some of her colleagues told her that the sufferings of 4-yr-old boys exasperate mothers a lot. No one could give those words of compassion to Sebastian though.

Now he sleeps, and heals. Woe is Sebastian no longer.

fire-trucks, ad infinitum

Lucas has severe fire-truck fever.

He's more obsessed even than Sebastian was at the same age.

"Fire-truck" is one of the first things Lucas will say when we wakes up, and one of the last things he says before finally falling asleep. If he's not talking about fire-trucks, he is playing with them. He has about 25 fire-trucks, ranging in size, type, country of origin, siren, and state of disrepair. Every night, he needs to have one or more beside his pillow when he sleeps, and every night, it has to be a very specific fire-truck that could be in any box, drawer, room in the house, and there is no respite until I find it. It won't necessarily be the one he slept with the night before. When I tell a story at the dinner table, he wants it to be about fire-trucks. When he plays with play-dough, he wants me to sculpt one. When we are painting, drawing, playing pretend; he is always the fireman, and the fire-truck is always the first vehicle to arrive at the scene. When Sebastian wants to play monster, play catch, play "super heros," or whatever, Lucas never changes his strategy: he is always a fireman!

And if you are still not convinced of his malady, guess what he answered when I asked which of the animals in the animal book I was reading he liked best? Yup. It was the f-word indeed.

Monday, 21 March 2011

bilingualism at its best

Current expressions from 2-and-a-half-year-old Italo-Canadese boy:

No putti via!! (i.e., "don't put it away" & "non mettere via")

Anche me. (i.e., pronounced, "anche meeeee" - mix between "anch'io" & "me too")

Me drive camon pompeii. (i.e., "I drive firetruck" & "io guido camion di pompieri")


Oh what a wonderful topic! My favourite! I have so much experience and insight into this... Who better than a serial deconstructing hyper-self-aware busybody to delve into this oh-so-misunderstood phenomenon.

In fact, I am on library duty now. Schedule for the night? Master's coursework homework. Reality for the moment? Delaying schedule for the night...

So what was I saying?

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

blue lips

Lucas decided to paint his cheeks marker blue. I got frustrated and scolded him. Once I'd washed his face, I realized I should have taken a picture and posted it. In a few years' time, I will laugh.

Moment missed.


Where does it come from? How do we recognize it?

Does it come from without or within?

Does it leave you once you've named it? Or does it stay once you've accepted it?

Do we all have it? Or blessed are the few who use it?

Voices or feelings? Ideas or emotions? Wakefulness or serenity? Memories or sensations?

Sunday, 13 March 2011

dreary sundays

So it took exactly one week to go from ecstatic (but exhausted) to miserable (and exhausted). Mind you, I had another rough week, my lungs are hurting, I am pms-ing, it rained all weekend, and the boys acted like cats & dogs all day.

I vowed when I got back from my 10 days away, that I would appreciate, appreciate, appreciate, appreciate, my boys, my time with them, their idiosyncracies, their time-consuming quirks. Today was a challenge. I could have appreciated them more.

But.... my lungs are hurting, I am very sleep-deprived, I am pms-ing, it rained all day today, and tomorrow I have a 16-hour day.