Flailing in the dark...
Jun. 30th, 2003 08:49 amMy contribution to the enormous pile of birthday loot in Huntur's bedroom is a modest DVD I bought in Russia, titled (in Russian, of course) The Golden Collection of Best-Loved Cartoons. It is one small attempt to inject some Russian into the kid's life. My instructions to Drew and Shannon were to have Huntur watch the thing until the bits on the DVD wear out, but I have my doubts.
Yesterday when Galina and I went over to their place, I took Huntur for one of our usual "strolls," where Huntur gets strapped into a stroller in a manner most test pilots would envy, while I push the stroller around the block. It's not the idea setup, as we don't get to look at one another as we walk, but it's better than nothing.
I speak Russian as we talk, mostly about what's happening around us. ("Oh, look at the car! What color is the car? The car is blue. What's the car doing? It's turning! What direction is it turning? Left! Oh, the car is gone!") Hunter doesn't say much when I go off on such rambles. (I wonder what she might be thinking? Has the old man gone completely off his nut?)
I also ask questions, first in English and then in Russian, using the same intonation. If she answers "Yah," I coach her to say "Да"; if the answer is "No," I coach her to say "Нет."
Yesterday, at about the 3/4 mark of our walk, Huntur volunteered what is for her a mouthful: "My house." Indeed, we had come into view of the kids' place. So, for the rest of the walk, I coached her to say "Мой дом" (which she pronounced very well... sure, it's only two syllables, but still...). She even managed to say it in front of daddy, which brought a smile to his face.
I suppose the more "face time" I spend with Huntur like this the better, but I feel intuitively that there is some threshold of interaction below which nothing really happens. (Evidently, that threshold was not reached in interacting with my own kids, as their comprehension is minimal... except, it seems, when they are the subject of the conversation.)
Time to turn to the next article in line. Once I finish this one, I can actually spend a day to check them all over and get ready for the 94-page monster that is the bulk of the project.
Cheers...
Yesterday when Galina and I went over to their place, I took Huntur for one of our usual "strolls," where Huntur gets strapped into a stroller in a manner most test pilots would envy, while I push the stroller around the block. It's not the idea setup, as we don't get to look at one another as we walk, but it's better than nothing.
I speak Russian as we talk, mostly about what's happening around us. ("Oh, look at the car! What color is the car? The car is blue. What's the car doing? It's turning! What direction is it turning? Left! Oh, the car is gone!") Hunter doesn't say much when I go off on such rambles. (I wonder what she might be thinking? Has the old man gone completely off his nut?)
I also ask questions, first in English and then in Russian, using the same intonation. If she answers "Yah," I coach her to say "Да"; if the answer is "No," I coach her to say "Нет."
Yesterday, at about the 3/4 mark of our walk, Huntur volunteered what is for her a mouthful: "My house." Indeed, we had come into view of the kids' place. So, for the rest of the walk, I coached her to say "Мой дом" (which she pronounced very well... sure, it's only two syllables, but still...). She even managed to say it in front of daddy, which brought a smile to his face.
I suppose the more "face time" I spend with Huntur like this the better, but I feel intuitively that there is some threshold of interaction below which nothing really happens. (Evidently, that threshold was not reached in interacting with my own kids, as their comprehension is minimal... except, it seems, when they are the subject of the conversation.)
Time to turn to the next article in line. Once I finish this one, I can actually spend a day to check them all over and get ready for the 94-page monster that is the bulk of the project.
Cheers...