A little collection of what the Boy has to say for himself. He is still speaking a lot of Dinglish – I had thought it might be sorting itself out by now, but instead it almost seems to be getting worse. As he picks up more of each language, he mashes them up more. He is also still using his “filler”-syllable, “ne”. Any part of a sentence or word he is not sure of he will fill up with “enenene”.
The Boy plays out a disturbing little scene with his breakfast items.
“Don’t be scared, sap [juice]. Enenene zorgen [I’ll take care of you]. Don’t run away.
Kiwi really scared enenene sap. Sap really sad.
Don’t be scared, apple. Don’t be scared a snijden snijden snijden [cutting cutting cutting].”
I am reading a book. The Boy takes it from me.
Boy: “Is mama’s book.”
Me: “Actually, it’s Daddy’s book. Mummy has borrowed it.”
Boy (nodding sagely): “That’s papa’s book, called ‘Papa’s Magic’. Heel veel letters [lots of letters].”
I take out a notebook to write down what he is saying. He notices: “You drawing. I’m enene reading a book. Aha! That’s the page.”
He hugs his little sister and says: “Love you.”
Compliments: He notices the Girl, puts an arm around her and says: “Beautiful baby. Got a hair and a smiley face. Blije [happy] baby.” Similarly, I was changing his nappy one day and he was gazing up at me. Then he said: “Really mooie [pretty] mama. Got some eyes, and a smiley mouth. And a red t-shirt. And trousers, and a that one [forehead] and hair and a neck.”
He loves helping in the kitchen. We are making cakes and I let him put the butter dish in the microwave to be zapped. He places it in and says “I’m really careful.” Then I give him a spoon to stir the mixture with. “I’m goed in roeren [good at stirring]”, he compliments himself.
His banana falls on the floor. “Want a nieuwe banaan!” he wails in Dinglish.
He picks up lots of phrases from TV shows or from the people around him and applies them to his own life, startling us all.
“That’s a fun filled festival!” he exclaims.
Or he invites me on a “rip roaring pirate ‘venture.”
The Girl wants to join in his game. “Noooooo!” he screeches, “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!”
“It’s a tough day,” he says with a happy grin.
“I go get it,” he explains to me. “You stay here.”
Finally, my favourite moment. I put him to bed for a nap, but have to come back up after ten minutes because all I can hear over the baby monitor is crashing, banging, jumping and shouting “Walk the plank! Walk the plank!” I tuck him up again, set the lullabies going. He wriggles and giggles in bed. In my calmest, most soothing tone of voice I say: “Now, you are going to have a lovely sleep.”
He responds in the most patronising tone: “Yeeeeeees Mummy.”
Dinglish is still going strong, but I think nap time might be a thing of the past.