The Tao of Tinkerbell

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that Norah is daily expanding her vocabulary. Well according to my friend Jan, that expansion now includes other languages! Jan was Norah’s Sunday School teacher last week and she told me later that the “meow” sound that Norah makes for what a cat says is exactly the correct pronunciation for the Chinese word for “cat”. Jan should know. She spent a few years in China while her husband worked there and is fluent inseveral Chinese words. J

Along with expanding the number of words that she knows, she’s also improving the clarity with which she says them. I have to admit that this makes me a little sad. When your child is first learning to talk, you begin to understand their mispronunciations and quirks so that you can interpret what they’re saying. It almost like you have a secret family language for a while. As “No-no” turns to “Nonah” morphs into “Norah” and “beesh” becomes “peese” and then “please”, we are losing a little bit of that exclusive ability to communicate with her. As our babbling baby becomes a talking toddler we don’t always need to be her translator to the world any more. It’s one of the earliest in many thousands of steps toward independence that parents simultaneously hope for and dread.

There is one word that she uses consistently that still requires interpretation for those who “don’t speak the language”. She mispronounces it every single time. I’m not even sure how she came up with the way she says it. It must be a disconnect somewhere between what she hears us say and what her little muscles can do. Her favorite cartoon character is Tinkerbell. Somehow over the course of growing in her affections for the sassy little pixie, Norah got it in her head that her name is “Beet-Tao”. She got a TON of Tinkerbell stuff for Christmas this year (photos to follow!) and each and every time she would yell out in excitement, “BEET-TAO!!” the moment she saw the blonde hair, green dress and wings. I think it’s super cute that one of the few words that people can’t understand is something she’s so excited about. It’s tempting to say it back to her the way that she says it, but we make it a point to say “Tinkerbell” correctly when we’re talking to her. Maybe it’s a little independent streak that makes her change up the name the way that she does, or maybe she truly just can’t say it quite right yet. Then again, maybe she just knows better than me. I should probably ask Jan how you say, “Tinkerbell” in Chinese…