I'd love for my children to be bi-lingual. Sadly, we've not taken that route. My husband insists on reserving his native Italian for when he's in Italy - when, and only when in Rome does he do as the Romans do.
Italian, French, Spanish, any second language would be fantastic and provide them a mountain of opportunities. Not for me, however, is the language of moo-moo. No. A cow is a cow is a cow. I'm concerned when I hear fluent gaga being spoken to tiny ones that they'll have so much to unlearn before they can get to grips with speaking properly. Just when their brains are at their hungriest for learning - when they could probably memorise the entire Encyclopaedia Britanica if they heard it through a couple of times, do elders start with this ridiculous babble. "Nanny's going ta-tas," I've heard, "look at the chuff-chuff"; "Want a bic-bic?"
My dear offspring have a lot of flaws to tolerate in their mother, but at least when I yell a thousand decibels at them I do so with grammatical accuracy (is that grammatically accurate*)?Having said all that, I do love doggies and our TV remote control is and always will be a doodaa.
* I wish there was a "grammar check" on this thingummyjig.
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:-) - I will hang onto the idea that I yell at my two grammatically correctly. (Actually, I suspect that isn't quite true - all too often I descend into totally incoherent rubbish, but I can pretend that it's grammatically correct (even if not exactly English)!)
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