I guess that's sorta cute...But, crikey, I thought I wouldn't have to worry about staving off suitors for at least 8 or 9 more years (and stave them off I shall). I mean, really! I don't remember those sort of dynamics when I was in kindergarten.
At least Lucero is no damsel in distress. Agapito and I had to suppress overt displays of pride when we were recently informed that Lucero had spit on a boy for trying to kiss her. Atta girl, Lucero!
I find myself of two minds when people comment on Lucero's beauty. On the one hand, I can't help but feel proud (though my genetic contribution be nil). On the other hand, I feel like saying "Kindly piss off while she enjoys a few more years of youthful oblivion!"
Another chapter in the lives of the young and the restless: Lucero and Rosalía's cousin, Nadin (a youthful lad of 4), spent the better part of our wedding wooing Lucero's friend, Sofia. Which is just as well, because my step-brother, sister-in-law and I were worried that Lucero and Nadin were headed for some kind of doomed love.
Meanwhile, Rosalía has been quacking. All you have to say is "Rosita, como hace un pato?" To which she replies, "Gwa, Gwa!". She can also bark "wow, wow", and meow "maaa". And to answer Joyce's question, the word known to all men (or babies on the cusp of speaking at least) is surely "da-da", which is Rosalía's label for everything. (Ok, I admit that was a shamelessly gratuitous literary reference...but I have to work them in now and again to make sure diaper cream fumes and Blues Clues [gag] haven't wiped my brain of all cultural reference points).
Rosalía's language production is definitely behind that of monolinguals her age, but that was to be expected (her mother reports with just a trace of defense). Yet, her comprehension blows my mind. I shouldn't be surprised. I took a class on this very subject and have read all the studies that document the stages of language acquisition. But still, it blows my mind to be able to say, "Rosie, go get your toothbrush from daddy and then you can come back and brush your teeth." She waddles away and returns triumphant with her little brush.
We're off to New Orleans for Thanksgiving, which I'm very excited about. New Orleans this time of year is brimming with hopeful nostalgia. Maybe it's as simple as a leftover childhood anticipation of Christmas presents and pretty lights.
For those patient enough to read through this post, I reward you with some wedding photos taken by an attendee (professional pics still to come):
2 comments:
kindergarten love! i remember it. i had a crush on a little boy... his name escapes me... but he liked the other amanda (thanx mom). she was blonde and always wore HUGE bow's in her hair, fancy dresses, and was always bossing other kids around, yar. but! i had a sweet little neighbor boy (name nowhere to be found) that gave me the jewelry box, that looked like a book and fit snugly between books on a bookcase, so as to be hidden.... remember him?
you compared rosie to monolingual stats... i'm confused, is she not bi-lingual?
no, she is bilingual (in her pre-verbal way)...i merely meant that toddlers being raised in monolingual environments are ahead of rosie in terms of production. i have to remind myself that her speech development is normal, because i assumed that with such a logorrheic mother, she would be born talking. on the other hand, there is agapito, for whom brevity is an understatement.
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