Precocious

Dennis had one of his twice-weekly German classes this morning, and at dinner this evening he told me about it, saying that he hadn't done very well, and that it was harder than he'd have liked, and that learning German is really hard work. 

And as he said this, a small smile spread across Ella's face.  "You know, Mom," she said, "I have the feeling Dad might be talking to me, too.  That's exactly the kind of talk that grown-ups do when they know kids are listening and they want to teach them a lesson."

Holy moly, she's on to us! And there's more.

Ella then gleefully announced to Dennis "I tricked my German teacher today! I got him to give me a history lesson instead of a German lesson!"  And then she explained that Frederick, her German teacher, really seems to like to talk about history.  "And a history lesson is much better than a German lesson!" She kept asking him questions about the history of languages. Stalling. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't think I tried that with my teachers until sixth grade, at least. Keep your eye on that girl, people. You've been warned.

But the lesson wasn't a total waste: "I learned that they have a whole different alphabet in Latin, and because they conquered lots of places a long time a go, a lot of languages are like Latin. And I learned that since I know English, German is supposed to be easy."

She's learning German in spite of herself.  They're working on multiplication tables in school, and she came home with a hundred questions that I was supposed to quiz her on, orally.  So I began: "Okay, what's four times seven, Ella."

"Mom, I think it's supposed to be in German.  You say it like this: 'Was ist vier mal sieben?' And then I say 'vier mal sieben gleich acht-und-zwanzig.'" Oh. I see.  And so we worked our way through the list, Ella spinning and dancing around the room, chanting her answers. "Vier mal drei gleich zwolf. Vier mal elf gleich vier-und-vierzig..."  So I'm a little impressed.

And then this evening she was playing with a new iPad app that I quite like, called PlayTime Theater.  It's part puppet show, part dollhouse: you can move little characters around a castle and use them to act out and record a story.  As Ella had a little dragon icon that she was moving around the castle, trying to decide where to put it.  "Wo wohnst du?" she asked it. Where do you live?

As for the rest of us, Joey kept me busy this morning.  He's developing very firm opinions, particularly on his clothes.  Each morning he brings me his choo-choo train sweater (or, if that's dirty, his monkey shirt) and a pair of sweatpants, and he'll consider no substitutions.  And he's also decided that he really doesn't like having his pictures taken anymore.  "No! No cheese!" he tells me, hiding his face.  So, until he decides otherwise, you'll have to be satisfied with this:

 

Unless he unwisely collapses on the floor after a long morning of playing. Then I can take pictures with abandon:

Alex came back from school announcing that he can pick up every single one of his classmates. Well, I suppose that's one way to communicate.  He has a dedicated teacher that teaches him German
sometimes, but I'm afraid it's nothing close to the level of instruction that Ella is getting.  While we were out walking, he told me he wishes he knew what was going on in class and asked if I'd help him learn more German. So Dennis and I are trying, to the point that his attention span allows. He's very proud that he knows his colors and most of his numbers and letters, and we're trying to teaching him names of clothing as well. His teacher also suggested we teach him the names of some toys: apparently he only knows the name of one toy in his classroom, and so, since that's all he can ask for, he's been playing with that same toy every day since the beginning of school. Poor kiddo.  I keep reminding him that his teacher speaks a little English as well, but he's too shy, I think.

This afternoon I took the kids to the monthly meeting of the Spoogler moms, a playgroup of Google moms and their children.  The meeting was all the way downtown in a department store restaurant, one with a little playground attached.  Unfortunately, all of the moms had children Joey's age or much younger, although some moms with older children had said they'd be attending.  Maybe they were chased away by the rain, but whatever the reason, the kids, especially Alex, were sorely disappointed, anticipating, as they were, making some new English-speaking friends


But just today, too, I got in touch with another young mom who just moved to the area from Canada with her three children, who was looking to put together a playgroup for older children.  (Most of the expatriot childrens groups advertised tend to be for babies and toddlers.) Adorably, for the first meeting, she's organizing field games and face painting for the kids.

I'm grateful that someone's taking the initiative, so much so that I'll play her field games. I'll even make a snack.