kids and language
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Janis wrote: <<Sometimes the distinctions our kids make is so wondrous!!>>
Lately I've been re-reading John Holt's HOW CHILDREN
LEARN, and his chapter on Talk has a lot in common with
this thread. I'm fascinated by how early children--babies even--
understand the power of language. My current two-year-old
is exploding with new words and phrases right now. She is
convinced that she is her two older sisters' equal in all
things, and since she believes this, it's very nearly true. <G>
She is suddenly conversing in long paragraphs and complicated
syntax. One of her recent aquisitions is the phrase, "It's my
WORK," which she wields very often, with gusto. Today I
walked into a room and found her jumping on an upside-down
futon. Before I could say a word, she shouted out a pre-emptive
"Don't mess my WORK, Mom!" --adding, almost under breath,
"It 'portant work."
And I suppose, when you're two, it is.
Yesterday her Portant Work was filling a soap dish with
water. She had hauled a stool into my bathroom and still
had to balance her belly on the edge of the sink, feet
dangling, in order to reach the faucet. I walked in right
in the middle of this strenuous process. She must have
been a trifle uncertain of the permissibility of this
particular activity, because instead of shouting "Don't
mess my work" with that sternness that only a younger
sibling can muster, her tone was soft and hopeful. "It my
work, Mom. Don't 'top my work."
I looked at the soap turning to mush in the flooded dish
and had one of those moments of warring perceptions.
*What a mess* vs. *From her point of view this must be
really interesting.* Of course the only decent thing to do was
smile and say, "I won't stop your work, honey." (To which
she replied, "I not Honey. I Eileen." <G>) Sayonara, fancy
guest soap. (First one I've ever had, I think. It was doomed
from the moment it entered my house.)
I noticed that just before bed tonight, she lugged the
stool back into my bathroom to check on the soap dish.
I'm glad I neglected to dump out the water today. (Can't
say I'm THAT accomodating--if I'd thought of it, I
probably would have.) Guess I'll leave it for a while and
see what happens. After all, her older sister is always
concocting strange messes in the name of science and
leaving them to stew on countertops. Of COURSE Eileen (not
Honey) has Portant Experiments to conduct.
I don't know where she got the "don't mess up my work"
thing from, though. I've never said it. Doesn't sound like
something my husband would say. I bet it was the four-year-old.
Lissa in Virginia
Lately I've been re-reading John Holt's HOW CHILDREN
LEARN, and his chapter on Talk has a lot in common with
this thread. I'm fascinated by how early children--babies even--
understand the power of language. My current two-year-old
is exploding with new words and phrases right now. She is
convinced that she is her two older sisters' equal in all
things, and since she believes this, it's very nearly true. <G>
She is suddenly conversing in long paragraphs and complicated
syntax. One of her recent aquisitions is the phrase, "It's my
WORK," which she wields very often, with gusto. Today I
walked into a room and found her jumping on an upside-down
futon. Before I could say a word, she shouted out a pre-emptive
"Don't mess my WORK, Mom!" --adding, almost under breath,
"It 'portant work."
And I suppose, when you're two, it is.
Yesterday her Portant Work was filling a soap dish with
water. She had hauled a stool into my bathroom and still
had to balance her belly on the edge of the sink, feet
dangling, in order to reach the faucet. I walked in right
in the middle of this strenuous process. She must have
been a trifle uncertain of the permissibility of this
particular activity, because instead of shouting "Don't
mess my work" with that sternness that only a younger
sibling can muster, her tone was soft and hopeful. "It my
work, Mom. Don't 'top my work."
I looked at the soap turning to mush in the flooded dish
and had one of those moments of warring perceptions.
*What a mess* vs. *From her point of view this must be
really interesting.* Of course the only decent thing to do was
smile and say, "I won't stop your work, honey." (To which
she replied, "I not Honey. I Eileen." <G>) Sayonara, fancy
guest soap. (First one I've ever had, I think. It was doomed
from the moment it entered my house.)
I noticed that just before bed tonight, she lugged the
stool back into my bathroom to check on the soap dish.
I'm glad I neglected to dump out the water today. (Can't
say I'm THAT accomodating--if I'd thought of it, I
probably would have.) Guess I'll leave it for a while and
see what happens. After all, her older sister is always
concocting strange messes in the name of science and
leaving them to stew on countertops. Of COURSE Eileen (not
Honey) has Portant Experiments to conduct.
I don't know where she got the "don't mess up my work"
thing from, though. I've never said it. Doesn't sound like
something my husband would say. I bet it was the four-year-old.
Lissa in Virginia
coyote's corner
Thanks so much.....as was said before - this brings back so many memories! My Brianna is 10 and she still says a few things that have become part of our lingo - but I miss this so much!
Again - thanks - you've painted a wonderful picture of a beautiful baby, a loving insightful mom and a warm loving situation.
Thanks,
Janis
Again - thanks - you've painted a wonderful picture of a beautiful baby, a loving insightful mom and a warm loving situation.
Thanks,
Janis
----- Original Message -----
From: lissany@...
To: [email protected]
Sent: Monday, May 26, 2003 9:18 PM
Subject: [Unschooling-dotcom] kids and language
Janis wrote: <<Sometimes the distinctions our kids make is so wondrous!!>>
Lately I've been re-reading John Holt's HOW CHILDREN
LEARN, and his chapter on Talk has a lot in common with
this thread. I'm fascinated by how early children--babies even--
understand the power of language. My current two-year-old
is exploding with new words and phrases right now. She is
convinced that she is her two older sisters' equal in all
things, and since she believes this, it's very nearly true. <G>
She is suddenly conversing in long paragraphs and complicated
syntax. One of her recent aquisitions is the phrase, "It's my
WORK," which she wields very often, with gusto. Today I
walked into a room and found her jumping on an upside-down
futon. Before I could say a word, she shouted out a pre-emptive
"Don't mess my WORK, Mom!" --adding, almost under breath,
"It 'portant work."
And I suppose, when you're two, it is.
Yesterday her Portant Work was filling a soap dish with
water. She had hauled a stool into my bathroom and still
had to balance her belly on the edge of the sink, feet
dangling, in order to reach the faucet. I walked in right
in the middle of this strenuous process. She must have
been a trifle uncertain of the permissibility of this
particular activity, because instead of shouting "Don't
mess my work" with that sternness that only a younger
sibling can muster, her tone was soft and hopeful. "It my
work, Mom. Don't 'top my work."
I looked at the soap turning to mush in the flooded dish
and had one of those moments of warring perceptions.
*What a mess* vs. *From her point of view this must be
really interesting.* Of course the only decent thing to do was
smile and say, "I won't stop your work, honey." (To which
she replied, "I not Honey. I Eileen." <G>) Sayonara, fancy
guest soap. (First one I've ever had, I think. It was doomed
from the moment it entered my house.)
I noticed that just before bed tonight, she lugged the
stool back into my bathroom to check on the soap dish.
I'm glad I neglected to dump out the water today. (Can't
say I'm THAT accomodating--if I'd thought of it, I
probably would have.) Guess I'll leave it for a while and
see what happens. After all, her older sister is always
concocting strange messes in the name of science and
leaving them to stew on countertops. Of COURSE Eileen (not
Honey) has Portant Experiments to conduct.
I don't know where she got the "don't mess up my work"
thing from, though. I've never said it. Doesn't sound like
something my husband would say. I bet it was the four-year-old.
Lissa in Virginia
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