I read this post this morning and was so encouraged by it.
Our Sunday gathering starts at almost exactly the time that J and S eat lunch and S usually goes down for his nap. So almost every week usually involves L or I dealing with a tired, but stimulated enough by everything going on that he has no intention of sleeping, toddler who keeps going until well past his normal nap time then crashes out in the car on the way home but only sleeps the 15 minute length of the car journey.
So it was good to remember the day after that what was, for various reasons, a particularly hard Sunday, that Sundays are good for our small children.
"Sundays may mean disrupted naps and delayed meals, but our children are trading earthly provision for something far better for their undying souls. On Sundays, everything is rearranged so that they might hear the Word proclaimed in the power of the Spirit. On Sundays, every ordinary thing takes a lesser place in favor of “the one thing necessary”." (article linked above)
Monday, 25 February 2019
Six months
We've been in this city for just a few days over six months now. I know this because legally we can only drive in Turkey on our British licences for six months after coming into Turkey. We're hoping to have our Turkish licences come through in the next few weeks (thankfully there's a process to swap our British licences for Turkish ones rather than having to sit a driving test here) but until then I can't drive. L did a weekend hop to the UK a couple of weeks back, which starts him off on another 6 month period, so he's now the official family chauffeur.
Six months. That time has flown by. We still get asked fairly regularly if we've got used to life here. Our answer is usually 'yes and no'. On one hand, we have settled here. This is home. We have pictures hanging on the walls and a flat full of the messiness and paraphernalia that comes with family life - artwork on the fridge, drawers with odd socks in them, Duplo bricks behind the sofa and random objects stuffed down the side of sofa cushions. We have different names to distinguish the different parks within walking distance of our flat. The employees at the little supermarket we go to most regularly know the boys by name. We have routines, regular places that we go and know when our preferred city centre car park is most likely to be full and when we're likely to find a space. Our life in Istanbul feels a long time ago.
On the other hand, it's only six months. Six months is not a long time. We're still discovering lots of new places in the city and get caught out by road systems that do unexpected things. And if we were in the UK and moved area, I wouldn't generally expect six months to be long enough to establish good friendships (unless of course you're a student or maybe a young-ish single person). And that applies even more so when the friendships we are slowly forming are cross-cultural, so it is not a surprise that six months does not feel long at all.
Last Friday L's work permit arrived, valid for a year, and this morning we submitted the paperwork for the boys' new residence permits. My residence permit application will be done in the next couple of weeks. With that work permit comes a sense of stability, or at least a sense of temporary stability, in knowing that we can be here until at least next February. As foreigners, our ability to live here will always remain fragile. But the last six months have seemed particularly fragile, as we moved to this city, started building our lives here, establishing a business, on the hope and expectation that we'd be able to stay.
Our first six months here has gone. I remember when we marked six months living in Istanbul and it was with the realisation that a quarter of our Istanbul-allotted time had gone. Now we have the privilege of marking six months here and knowing that we have permission to be here for another year, and God willing, for a long time after that.
Six months. That time has flown by. We still get asked fairly regularly if we've got used to life here. Our answer is usually 'yes and no'. On one hand, we have settled here. This is home. We have pictures hanging on the walls and a flat full of the messiness and paraphernalia that comes with family life - artwork on the fridge, drawers with odd socks in them, Duplo bricks behind the sofa and random objects stuffed down the side of sofa cushions. We have different names to distinguish the different parks within walking distance of our flat. The employees at the little supermarket we go to most regularly know the boys by name. We have routines, regular places that we go and know when our preferred city centre car park is most likely to be full and when we're likely to find a space. Our life in Istanbul feels a long time ago.
On the other hand, it's only six months. Six months is not a long time. We're still discovering lots of new places in the city and get caught out by road systems that do unexpected things. And if we were in the UK and moved area, I wouldn't generally expect six months to be long enough to establish good friendships (unless of course you're a student or maybe a young-ish single person). And that applies even more so when the friendships we are slowly forming are cross-cultural, so it is not a surprise that six months does not feel long at all.
Last Friday L's work permit arrived, valid for a year, and this morning we submitted the paperwork for the boys' new residence permits. My residence permit application will be done in the next couple of weeks. With that work permit comes a sense of stability, or at least a sense of temporary stability, in knowing that we can be here until at least next February. As foreigners, our ability to live here will always remain fragile. But the last six months have seemed particularly fragile, as we moved to this city, started building our lives here, establishing a business, on the hope and expectation that we'd be able to stay.
Our first six months here has gone. I remember when we marked six months living in Istanbul and it was with the realisation that a quarter of our Istanbul-allotted time had gone. Now we have the privilege of marking six months here and knowing that we have permission to be here for another year, and God willing, for a long time after that.
Saturday, 2 February 2019
TCK myths: language learning by osmosis
If our children spend their formative years in Turkey, which is our plan, they will be Third Culture Kids - TCKs for short. One of the most commonly used definitions of a TCK is:
“A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture. The TCK builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture are assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, a sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background.” (Pollock and Van Reken)
J and S are growing up in a culture that is not mine and L's culture or their passport culture. Because they are growing up in a different culture to the UK, they will never feel fully British. But with British parents and a British passport, they will never feel fully Turkish either. They will develop a strong relationship with both British and Turkish cultures but their sense of belonging and identity will be to a third culture i.e. to the group of people who have also grown up in different cultures from their parents. In other words, J and S are likely to find more in common with other TCKs (even if they are, for example, American but grew up in South Asia) than they will with those who are British and have lived in the UK their whole lives.
There are many, many things that have been written about the advantages and challenges of being a TCK by people far more knowledgeable than me so I'm not going to repeat them. But I do want to dispel some of the myths about TCKs.
One that I have heard several times relates to TCKs naturally achieving fluency in the language of their host country. It's the different variants of 'your children will be so privileged, they'll grow up speaking Turkish', with the assumption that just because we live in Turkey, our children will learn to speak Turkish fluently and be bilingual.
Unfortunately, this is not true. Language learning by osmosis is sadly not a recognised method of language acquisition, much as I wish it were. I think that the view is that because children learn and grow so fast, they will just automatically 'pick up' a second (or third etc.) language by being around it and hearing it.
However, it takes time and effort for anyone, including children, to learn a language. Unsurprisingly, children who are immersed from a young age in a day care setting or school where the second language is the main language spoken do learn the second language well. But that is because they are spending eight hours a day hearing that language, five days a week for the entire academic year! I have no doubt that if I were to spend that amount of time in a Turkish speaking environment, my Turkish proficiency (at least in listening and comprehension) would improve significantly. Even then, despite the immersion, it is very common for a child not to speak the second language at all for a year or so.
The advantage young children do have in learning a language is that they may be less self conscious about speaking the second language, feel less pressure to be perfect and speak with a better accent. But it is not necessarily true that the younger a child is, the quicker they will learn a second language. Language skills transfer from one language to another and a young child may not yet have training or skills in their mother tongue to transfer to a second language.
We hope that our children will speak Turkish well. We're not actually aiming for them to be bilingual or to be academically fluent in Turkish. The ability to speak more than one language is a great advantage - as well as the practical benefits of speaking a second language, it also stretches and develops the brain in different ways. But we are realistic enough to know that English will be their first language and that mastery of English, not just proficiency, is vital. So we are planning and aiming for the boys to be fluent at a conversational level in Turkish but accepting that they will not have the academic fluency to complete their education in Turkish or be at the same level as their Turkish peers in reading and writing.
As our children are still young and spent most of their time at home with me, they naturally hear a lot of English and we have to work hard on their Turkish. It's been suggested that we could put J in a creche or preschool to improve his Turkish but for various reasons that's not something we're considering at the moment. The boys hear Turkish a fair amount on Sundays and if we go to Turkish people's houses or people come to us. But that is not enough for them to learn Turkish. Sometimes L and I will speak Turkish at home and try and encourage the boys by speaking to them in Turkish. Generally if I'm out in public with the boys and there are other people around, I'll try and talk to them in Turkish. We also have books and songs in Turkish, a lot of the (limited) screen time they are allowed is in Turkish (thank goodness for Thomas the Tank Engine dubbed into Turkish!). They are also currently using an online program called DinoLingo which is designed to teach a second language through videos and animated stories. And one of the most useful things we are now doing is that the boys have an oyun ablası ("play big sister") who comes one morning a week. She looks after the boys, plays with them and speaks to them entirely in Turkish which allows me a couple of hours to get some admin work/language study/rest in. From next week, J will also start a twice weekly gymnastics lesson at a local sports centre. This will obviously be entirely in Turkish, which I think will be quite a learning curve for him and maybe not very easy to start with, but should be good for him.
And with all that, so far J is actually able to understand some basic Turkish. He'll speak some odd words and phrases but generally prefers not to speak in Turkish right now, which is very normal. S doesn't speak at all yet in any comprehensible language, although he understands a fair amount of English and I'm pretty sure he understands 'yapma!' in Turkish (which translates as 'don't do that!).
We understand that learning a language is a process, it takes time and children learn in their own time and we're grateful for the progress that they are making. But we are definitely conscious that TCKs do not automatically learn the language of the country they live in and that it will take time, effort and active work on our part to help J and S learn Turkish.
“A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents’ culture. The TCK builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture are assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, a sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background.” (Pollock and Van Reken)
There are many, many things that have been written about the advantages and challenges of being a TCK by people far more knowledgeable than me so I'm not going to repeat them. But I do want to dispel some of the myths about TCKs.
One that I have heard several times relates to TCKs naturally achieving fluency in the language of their host country. It's the different variants of 'your children will be so privileged, they'll grow up speaking Turkish', with the assumption that just because we live in Turkey, our children will learn to speak Turkish fluently and be bilingual.
Unfortunately, this is not true. Language learning by osmosis is sadly not a recognised method of language acquisition, much as I wish it were. I think that the view is that because children learn and grow so fast, they will just automatically 'pick up' a second (or third etc.) language by being around it and hearing it.
However, it takes time and effort for anyone, including children, to learn a language. Unsurprisingly, children who are immersed from a young age in a day care setting or school where the second language is the main language spoken do learn the second language well. But that is because they are spending eight hours a day hearing that language, five days a week for the entire academic year! I have no doubt that if I were to spend that amount of time in a Turkish speaking environment, my Turkish proficiency (at least in listening and comprehension) would improve significantly. Even then, despite the immersion, it is very common for a child not to speak the second language at all for a year or so.
The advantage young children do have in learning a language is that they may be less self conscious about speaking the second language, feel less pressure to be perfect and speak with a better accent. But it is not necessarily true that the younger a child is, the quicker they will learn a second language. Language skills transfer from one language to another and a young child may not yet have training or skills in their mother tongue to transfer to a second language.
We hope that our children will speak Turkish well. We're not actually aiming for them to be bilingual or to be academically fluent in Turkish. The ability to speak more than one language is a great advantage - as well as the practical benefits of speaking a second language, it also stretches and develops the brain in different ways. But we are realistic enough to know that English will be their first language and that mastery of English, not just proficiency, is vital. So we are planning and aiming for the boys to be fluent at a conversational level in Turkish but accepting that they will not have the academic fluency to complete their education in Turkish or be at the same level as their Turkish peers in reading and writing.
As our children are still young and spent most of their time at home with me, they naturally hear a lot of English and we have to work hard on their Turkish. It's been suggested that we could put J in a creche or preschool to improve his Turkish but for various reasons that's not something we're considering at the moment. The boys hear Turkish a fair amount on Sundays and if we go to Turkish people's houses or people come to us. But that is not enough for them to learn Turkish. Sometimes L and I will speak Turkish at home and try and encourage the boys by speaking to them in Turkish. Generally if I'm out in public with the boys and there are other people around, I'll try and talk to them in Turkish. We also have books and songs in Turkish, a lot of the (limited) screen time they are allowed is in Turkish (thank goodness for Thomas the Tank Engine dubbed into Turkish!). They are also currently using an online program called DinoLingo which is designed to teach a second language through videos and animated stories. And one of the most useful things we are now doing is that the boys have an oyun ablası ("play big sister") who comes one morning a week. She looks after the boys, plays with them and speaks to them entirely in Turkish which allows me a couple of hours to get some admin work/language study/rest in. From next week, J will also start a twice weekly gymnastics lesson at a local sports centre. This will obviously be entirely in Turkish, which I think will be quite a learning curve for him and maybe not very easy to start with, but should be good for him.
And with all that, so far J is actually able to understand some basic Turkish. He'll speak some odd words and phrases but generally prefers not to speak in Turkish right now, which is very normal. S doesn't speak at all yet in any comprehensible language, although he understands a fair amount of English and I'm pretty sure he understands 'yapma!' in Turkish (which translates as 'don't do that!).
We understand that learning a language is a process, it takes time and children learn in their own time and we're grateful for the progress that they are making. But we are definitely conscious that TCKs do not automatically learn the language of the country they live in and that it will take time, effort and active work on our part to help J and S learn Turkish.
Tuesday, 1 January 2019
Neighbours
I asked a lady I know recently how she became a believer. She told me that when they lived in a previous apartment, they got to know a Turkish family who were living in the same building. The family they got to know were already believers and told them the Good News and invited them along to a Sunday gathering. The lady's husband believed first and about a year ago the lady believed. She finished by telling me that if this other family hadn't happened to live in the same building she would never have become a Christian.
There are about 1 million people in our city and less than a handful of believing Turkish families. In statistical terms, the chance of finding yourself living in the same building as a Christian Turkish family is minuscule.
We're obviously not Turkish but we have the same Good News to share. So my prayer is that in 2019 we would build relationships with our neighbours and have opportunities to share the reason for the hope that we have. And beyond that, considering that the chance of living in the same building as a believer is so small, that we would be able to develop relationships with others in the community.
Humanly speaking it seems hopeless. There are so many people here who have never met a Christian, never opened God's Word, never seriously considered the claims of Jesus. There are so few believers.
But our God doesn't deal in 'humanly speaking'. It wasn't an accident that led to my friend living in the same building as a Turkish Christian family or that led to that family befriending their neighbours. Our God is sovereign and he is at work here. And knowing that gives me the faith to pray that this next year there will be people added to the Kingdom from this city - and then the impetus to get to work myself.
"And should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?”
There are about 1 million people in our city and less than a handful of believing Turkish families. In statistical terms, the chance of finding yourself living in the same building as a Christian Turkish family is minuscule.
We're obviously not Turkish but we have the same Good News to share. So my prayer is that in 2019 we would build relationships with our neighbours and have opportunities to share the reason for the hope that we have. And beyond that, considering that the chance of living in the same building as a believer is so small, that we would be able to develop relationships with others in the community.
Humanly speaking it seems hopeless. There are so many people here who have never met a Christian, never opened God's Word, never seriously considered the claims of Jesus. There are so few believers.
But our God doesn't deal in 'humanly speaking'. It wasn't an accident that led to my friend living in the same building as a Turkish Christian family or that led to that family befriending their neighbours. Our God is sovereign and he is at work here. And knowing that gives me the faith to pray that this next year there will be people added to the Kingdom from this city - and then the impetus to get to work myself.
"And should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?”
Wednesday, 26 December 2018
Grace and patience
A few different people in the UK have asked if we have a service on Christmas Day morning. If you are British, that is a perfectly normal and reasonable question to ask. If you live in Turkey, it is a question that doesn't need to be asked. Christmas Day is a normal working day here. It also falls right in the middle of one of the regular exam periods for university students - a student friend was not impressed when she realised she had three exams scheduled for Christmas Day! So a Christmas Day daytime service is not even a consideration here - 70%-80% of your congregation wouldn't be able to attend, which would be rather unfair, and because there is no concept of such a service people don't even think of it as something that they're missing out on or would like to do if they could.
There's lots of different directions this blog post could go at this point. I could talk about the impact and influence of Western Christianity here and how we have to be careful because our default position is for our culture to be mixed up with the application of truth to our lives. (And even if you're from a tradition that doesn't really celebrate Christmas and definitely doesn't want to mix symbols such as Christmas trees with any celebration of our Saviour's birth, that too is mixing a particular sub-culture with application of truth). I could talk about how the community of believers here is developing their own Christmas traditions. I could talk about how there is also the effect of Eastern Christianity here and how traditionally the 6th of January has been celebrated as Christmas in Turkey.
But actually there's something else that comes to mind. We've now lived in Turkey for not far off three years. L and I have now spent more than half of the time we've been married living in Turkey. Living in a different country and culture changes you. It exposes you to different ways of thinking and ways of life. It stretches you and shifts your perception so that you see the world through different lenses to people who have lived in one country their whole lives.
So let's make a deal. When you ask questions or make comments that I, in my default position of pride, would inwardly roll my eyes at because the answer is so blindingly obvious, I'll choose to show grace and patience to you because I live here and you don't and when I came here I didn't know the things that are now so obvious to me. And in return, when I start questioning everything that seems so clear and obvious to you and when I make comments that make you seriously wonder if we've completely gone off the rails and maybe even when I (wrongly) sometimes seem like I know better than you because I've lived in more than one country, you can choose to show grace and patience to me. And maybe we'll both grow in understanding that way.
And maybe choosing to show grace and patience is generally an especially good principle to remember at Christmas time, as most people spend time with family members who are very much loved but also can hold quite differing views on a wide variety of topics. That, and don't mention Brexit.
There's lots of different directions this blog post could go at this point. I could talk about the impact and influence of Western Christianity here and how we have to be careful because our default position is for our culture to be mixed up with the application of truth to our lives. (And even if you're from a tradition that doesn't really celebrate Christmas and definitely doesn't want to mix symbols such as Christmas trees with any celebration of our Saviour's birth, that too is mixing a particular sub-culture with application of truth). I could talk about how the community of believers here is developing their own Christmas traditions. I could talk about how there is also the effect of Eastern Christianity here and how traditionally the 6th of January has been celebrated as Christmas in Turkey.
But actually there's something else that comes to mind. We've now lived in Turkey for not far off three years. L and I have now spent more than half of the time we've been married living in Turkey. Living in a different country and culture changes you. It exposes you to different ways of thinking and ways of life. It stretches you and shifts your perception so that you see the world through different lenses to people who have lived in one country their whole lives.
So let's make a deal. When you ask questions or make comments that I, in my default position of pride, would inwardly roll my eyes at because the answer is so blindingly obvious, I'll choose to show grace and patience to you because I live here and you don't and when I came here I didn't know the things that are now so obvious to me. And in return, when I start questioning everything that seems so clear and obvious to you and when I make comments that make you seriously wonder if we've completely gone off the rails and maybe even when I (wrongly) sometimes seem like I know better than you because I've lived in more than one country, you can choose to show grace and patience to me. And maybe we'll both grow in understanding that way.
And maybe choosing to show grace and patience is generally an especially good principle to remember at Christmas time, as most people spend time with family members who are very much loved but also can hold quite differing views on a wide variety of topics. That, and don't mention Brexit.
Tuesday, 4 December 2018
Christmas traditions
It's December so I think I can officially start talking about Christmas now.
Over the last couple of years, I've noticed that as a family, we're making advent a bigger thing. I think there's been a bit of a resurgence of thinking about advent in certain circles in recent years so in some ways we're jumping on that bandwagon. In other ways, it fits the situation here. In the UK, it's rather difficult to avoid Christmas in December and the weeks leading up to Christmas can be jam-packed with activities, so we often need to be reminded to slow down and take time to remember the miracle of the Incarnation. Here, especially outside of certain areas of Istanbul, there is (understandably) absolutely no way that you could know it's December and Christmas will be in a couple of weeks. So advent is becoming an important way for us to build up to Christmas and have time to read and talk about the amazing good news of Christmas.
This is going to be our third Christmas in Turkey! We're especially excited about this year because in addition to my parents' visit at the end of last month, L's parents are coming straight after Christmas.
But as it's our third Christmas, we've also had time to slowly start to think about how we celebrate Christmas in a country where Christmas is not celebrated. What traditions do we bring from a 'traditional British Christmas'? What can we happily leave behind? As people who believe the amazing news that our Saviour humbled himself by becoming human and being born as a baby, how does that impact how we celebrate Christmas? How do our traditions and celebrations appear to our non-believing neighbours and our believing friends? We started to think more about it last year, then we all got proper flu and that wiped out at least the first half of December. I'm sure we will continue to think and adapt our traditions.
But this year, J is now three and understands a bit more about Christmas (as evidenced the other day when he announced "I think that when it is Christmas, I am going to get a Lightning McQueen [character from the Cars Disney film] duvet cover". He's not.)
On the 1st December, we had a special breakfast and got all of our Christmas books out. There was also be a new Christmas advent book. This year it's 'The Christmas Promise', part of the 'Tales that tell the truth' series. We already have a couple of books from that series that we love so I had high hopes for 'The Christmas Promise' and it is an excellent book (and it gets bonus points for not mentioning a stable and the fact when the wise men arrive, they're presenting gifts to a small toddler rather than a newborn baby). Last year our advent book was 'Song of the stars' by Sally Lloyd-Jones and we loved that too.
We now have a fabric Advent Calendar that we can re-use every year. This year I'm planning on putting in some small chocolates and occasional small presents (like a new pair of socks) for some of the days, but we're also going to have some 'acts of kindness' to do on different days, like baking cookies and taking them to neighbours, making a special effort to share our toys, or concentrating on using kind words. And then our Christmas tree will go up in the next couple of days as well.
Over the last couple of years, I've noticed that as a family, we're making advent a bigger thing. I think there's been a bit of a resurgence of thinking about advent in certain circles in recent years so in some ways we're jumping on that bandwagon. In other ways, it fits the situation here. In the UK, it's rather difficult to avoid Christmas in December and the weeks leading up to Christmas can be jam-packed with activities, so we often need to be reminded to slow down and take time to remember the miracle of the Incarnation. Here, especially outside of certain areas of Istanbul, there is (understandably) absolutely no way that you could know it's December and Christmas will be in a couple of weeks. So advent is becoming an important way for us to build up to Christmas and have time to read and talk about the amazing good news of Christmas.
As for Christmas itself, on the Sunday before Christmas Day there will be a special service to invite visitors too. In Turkey, Christmas Day is a normal working day so our Wednesday midweek meeting will be a special gathering for the believers. It's interesting seeing how the believers celebrate Christmas - some things are clearly borrowed from the West (Christmas trees!) and even here it is a special opportunity to invite people to a Sunday service. Other things are less important e.g. present giving.
We have really enjoyed hosting lots of people, especially international students, for a special Christmas meal close to Christmas Day in previous years in both the UK and Turkey, and as we have quite a lot of students here, both Turkish and international, that is something we'll probably do again - likely on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. We usually do a traditional British Christmas dinner (although it will be chicken not Turkey on the menu and I think we'll be skipping the pork sausages this year now we're out of Istanbul!), which has gone down well in the past.
As for Christmas Day itself, we're planning for it to be a low key family day. There may be a family Christmas dinner and there will definitely be chicken and stuffing sandwiches at some point. The good news is that I think we probably have a higher chance of a White Christmas than if we were in the UK, and if we drive part way up Mount Erciyes, we are guaranteed to find snow!
We have really enjoyed hosting lots of people, especially international students, for a special Christmas meal close to Christmas Day in previous years in both the UK and Turkey, and as we have quite a lot of students here, both Turkish and international, that is something we'll probably do again - likely on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. We usually do a traditional British Christmas dinner (although it will be chicken not Turkey on the menu and I think we'll be skipping the pork sausages this year now we're out of Istanbul!), which has gone down well in the past.
As for Christmas Day itself, we're planning for it to be a low key family day. There may be a family Christmas dinner and there will definitely be chicken and stuffing sandwiches at some point. The good news is that I think we probably have a higher chance of a White Christmas than if we were in the UK, and if we drive part way up Mount Erciyes, we are guaranteed to find snow!
Monday, 19 November 2018
Things a 3.5 year old says
J is at a lovely age (most of the time). His English vocabulary is rapidly expanding - as is his Turkish vocabulary, although not to the same extent. His running commentary on life certainly makes life more interesting and frequently entertaining. Occasionally L and I find ourselves trying desperately not to laugh.
Here's a few highlights from the last few weeks:
"Thank you for my beautiful tea Mummy!"
"S is a terror!" (L is to blame for that one, not me!)
Me: "We're going to the zoo! What do you think we're going to see?"
J: "A pterodactyl?"
[J announces to a Turkish visitor at our house] "I'm making bacon! This is my bacon! I like bacon sandwiches!"
Me: "What do you think Gilly Babes [my mum] would like for her birthday?
J: "A dumper truck!"
[J trying to teach S to talk] "Say 'Thomas [the tank engine] and friends'"
"This is my train. His name is Trainy."
[J to S] "Don't knock my tower over, little one."
Here's a few highlights from the last few weeks:
"Thank you for my beautiful tea Mummy!"
"S is a terror!" (L is to blame for that one, not me!)
Me: "We're going to the zoo! What do you think we're going to see?"
J: "A pterodactyl?"
[J announces to a Turkish visitor at our house] "I'm making bacon! This is my bacon! I like bacon sandwiches!"
Me: "What do you think Gilly Babes [my mum] would like for her birthday?
J: "A dumper truck!"
[J trying to teach S to talk] "Say 'Thomas [the tank engine] and friends'"
"This is my train. His name is Trainy."
[J to S] "Don't knock my tower over, little one."
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