You see this tree trunk…

It’s got this on the bottom…

And this on the top…

The reason this fungus is now so important to me is because when my kids noticed it at the last trip to the park, I was able to summon 7th grade natural science lessons to explain what it was doing there. Not only was I able to tell them in detail (I’m sure my three year-old caught all of it) why it was growing out of the tree, I even told them what happens when fungus and algae come together – they make lichen (Alice Algae and Freddy Fungi took a lichen to each other)! So the lesson went like this: I came off really excited about this information, my daughter was grossed out and my son kept trying to poke at it. Considering that I’m a product of under-appreciated US public schools, I think I owe many thanks to the teacher who got drilled that information into a very unscientific student.

Here’s to you, Mr. Allen!

Daughter: Can you spread the cheese on the cracker for me, please?

Me: Why can’t you do it?

Daughter: Because I don’t do it very well.

That is simply music to my ears! Don’t know if my writing conveys this, but I’m a stickler for good grammar. I subscribe to the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar and I correct people when they misplace prepositions. Yes, I’m that annoying person.

I try to cut the kids some slack because they’re constantly switching between at least three languages to communicate. I speak uniquely English to them and when they get stuck, I let them explain something that happened whatever language is the easiest. This works well, but promoting good grammar is tough. Not necessarily with the two year-old who is just now beginning to form sentences with more than 3 words, but I have different expectations for my daughter.

Every time someone asks her how she’s doing, she says “good” and I cringe. She asks me what is written in small print because she can’t see very good and I involuntarily twitch. After my physical reactions, I repeat her sentence correctly and ask her to do the same. This happens over and over again…it’s just become part of daily interaction. So, imagine my delight the other day when she says it correctly on the first try! I mean, my heart skipped a beat I was so happy.

It goes to show that consistency really does pay off. She may be annoyed with me correcting her now, but one day when she’s one of the few people who speak what will probably be called “old school English”, she’ll be in high demand and thank me.

One of my first concerns with moving to Caracas was the school choices for the kids. I wasn’t sure in which language I wanted them to be taught, but I definitely wanted the school to be accredited by an internationally recognized entity. This isn’t too much of an issue in the primary years, but I have seen too many children have to play serious catch up because certain courses did not translate correctly.

So, my choices for Caracas were two American schools and one French school. I knew the children would be exposed to Spanish regardless and since they are both in English only schools now, I considered not disrupting this in the transition. However, the American schools were insanely expensive and the French school’s program is very similar to my daughter’s previous school and I think my son would easily adapt at his age.

So, after examining our choices, I am opting to place them in the French program. I had the opportunity to visit the campus while I was in Caracas a few weeks ago and it looks promising. My only concern now is that they might not get as much exposure to Spanish since we will mainly speak English and Haitian Creole with them at home. Hopefully, they will make friends outside of school, as well which will give them an opportunity to speak Spanish uniquely.

Would you have made the same decision if you were in my shoes? If you had to pick 3 languages for you or your child(ren) to know, which would they be?

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