Raising bilingual kids in another country has some interesting moments. This week at my sons' school is literature week.
They read a ton of different books and encourage parents to come in to tell a story or read a favorite from their library.
The thing is, though, I am not fluent in Portuguese. Having children who are fluent in a different language will quickly point out how unfluent you are. Case in point would be a friend of my son's reaction to me saying "It is fun" in Portuguese. He frowned and declared that I speak funny therefore he does not understand me.
Considering all this I am pretty stoked to be scheduled to read a children's book in Portuguese tomorrow for my son's class. It is a book that we have been reading every other day for about 2 weeks so I feel I have it down. Of course my audience speaks Rachel...
So in a way my sons have brought me back to adolescence but not in the way I thought. I thought that I would be reliving mine via their uncomfortable moments. I never expected to be reliving mine through more of my own uncomfortable moments. Not fair. I really must have karmically crapped on someone important in a past life.
On a side note, reading out loud makes me nervous. Got to love how children make you push your own limits.