Se habla español

This handsome young man walked in the door after school and asked, "Hey mom, can we have perros calientes with papas fritas for dinner tonight?"

Me:"Huh?"

Joseph: "You know, hot dogs with french fries. I speak Spanish now you know. My teacher served a mission in Guatemala and so yeah, I know Spanish now."

Me thinking to myself: "Well, how cute! He learned a few words."

Joseph: "And by the way, that's a muy bonita falda you're wearing."

Me (astonished) : "Did you just give me a compliment in Spanish? Go Joseph!"

Come to find out he knows about 40 words and is learning more everyday. Who knew?!

***

Brett and I are constantly plagued with the question of why we don't teach our kids Spanish. Truth is I find it a little difficult at times to speak it myself. Sure I can carry on a conversation and help translate if forced to do so, but it's not something I've always felt super confident with.

Growing up, my Dad, who immigranted to the U.S. as an adult, mostly spoke Spanish to us. We only responded in English. My mom who was raised in a similar fashion, broke out the books and forced herself to study and educate herself on the proper way to speak the language as an adult. We rarely spoke it although we understood the basics. It wasn't until my Abuelita (sweet, 4'9 inch grandma Qina) and my Tias (Dad's 4 sisters) came from Mexico, or better yet when we went to visit them for entire months at a time that we absolutely had to break out our broken Spanish. Most of the time people thought we (me and my sister Moni) were so cute and funny that they would make us repeat the mish mashed thing we'd said and laugh at us until we refused to say anything in the blasted language at all. I know now that they didn't mean any harm by it, but it did make me really self conscious. Slowly but surely with time, age and practice and more in-depth conversations with Abuelita and Dad did my Spanish start taking shape. As a youth I became involved with Mexican folk dancing which also helped encourage my need to speak Spanish. At about the same age my wise Mama decided to switch from the English ward to the struggling Spanish branch. Needless to say that helped push us along immensely in more ways than just learning a language. A post for another day.

Brett and I spoke a little during our courtship but it always seemed kinda weird and forced so we just stuck to English unless we needed to say something to each other we didn't want any one else to understand. It's always been mainly for fun.

As our kids started coming along we would try to teach them basic phrases and while a few have stuck, they mainly complain about why we didn't teach them as babies and then give up on our quest to try and teach them more. Like most people, I get so caught up trying to teach basic life skills like not punching your brother or not burping during dinner that I barely have time to think in English much less turn around and teach in Spanish.

While I know that these are all lame excuses I do think that my sister Marisa who married an immigrant from Colombia, has a much easier time teaching her kids the basics than I do.

Whatever the kids learn in school we try to solidify. Most of them have pretty good rolled "r's". Just ask Analisa to tell you the name of the guy who took Federer to 5 sets in the US Open. Spoken like a native, I tell you.

I was tickled to hear my sweet 2nd grader speaking my father's native tongue. And I am excited to help reinforce any and all things he learns. Who knows maybe it will catch on to the rest of the family. But for now, when my sister Marisa's kids come over and say "Quiero leche", Joseph will know exactly what they're talking about. And that's a very cool thing.