We speak English. Sort of.

At home, we often speak in an Italian-English mix. With our Italian relatives and friends, we stick to straight Italian (or dialect, in my husband's case). My kids speak Italian as if they were born and raised there-- in fact, people are often surprised when they discover that my children also speak English.

When we came to the U.S. this summer, I knew my kids would need help with some English words initially, but then I assumed they'd sound like native English speakers in no time. In the past month, surprisingly, they've only asked for help with a few words--usually for things that don't exist in Italy (like Rice Krispy bars and Heelys--those shoes with wheels).

However.

They don't sound like native English speakers. A speech therapist friend told me that it's not their accent, per se; it's the cadence and inflections that give my kids away. I've also noticed a few constructions and wordings that American kids would never use. Here are some examples:

1. My daughters saw a baby rabbit hop into some bushes. An American kid would say something like: "Oh, how cute!" My 5-year-old said: "The bunny--it is so beautiful!"

2. My 8-year-old told us that one of her cousins had a Popsicle, and wanted to know if she could have one, too. When I asked which cousin had the Popsicle, my daughter pointed and answered: "She."

3. In Italian, the words for bride, groom and to marry are similar: sposa, sposo, and sposarsi. We went to see The Little Mermaid play, and in the scene where the hypnotized prince is about to unknowingly marry the evil witch instead of Ariel, my 5-year-old yelled out: "No! Don't bride her!"

I'm torn when I hear my children speaking this way. Things that make adults go "Awww," can make kids go "Huh?" and I don't want my children's classmates to make fun of them when we move back to the U.S. next summer. But I know these linguistic gems will fade within a few months, never to return. My older daughter has already added cool and wha'sup? to her vocabulary, and I've even heard her call her father Daddy a few times, instead of Papa.

When my daughters were toddlers, I recorded some of the cute things they said in a notebook, but I haven't made any new entries in years. I think it's time to pick up my pen once again.

Kiddie Culture Shock

When I was in elementary school, my family lived in Germany on a U.S. Air Force base where my dad was stationed. In those pre-internet days, I had no idea what my peers were up to back in the U.S. We had one television channel on base that mostly played reruns, which meant my friends and I mostly played outside, climbing trees and building forts. Sounds idyllic, right? It was.

Until we moved back to the states.

I'd seen the changing of the guard outside of Buckingham Palace, touched the Berlin Wall, and sailed past Norwegian fjords. But I'd never heard of the new hit TV show Laverne and Shirley, and some blockbuster movie showing coast to coast called Star Wars. Kids at school asked what my favorite bands were and which radio station I listened to. Huh? The only time I ever listened to the radio was when my parents had it on in the car. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly the coolest kid on the block.

I know my own kids will go through some of this culture shock/cluelessness when we move back to the U.S. next summer. I thought I'd take advantage of the time we have here this summer and help them catch up on some good 'ol American culture. Here's how it's going so far:

1. My 8-year-old knows the value of the European coins, so I decided to teach her about American coins. I explained which presidents were on each coin, and how much the coins were worth. The next day I was watching The Today Show, and Willard Scott came on. My daughter asked, "Is that George Washington?"

2. Today we went to a water park called "Water Country USA." I've been working with my 8-year-old this summer on reading in English, and she read the sign, pronouncing USA as OO-zah (the way it would be pronounced if it were an Italian word). I told her it was U.S.A., and asked if she knew what the letters stood for. She had no idea.

My problem is I don't know exactly what my kids know and don't know about America. I'll assume they know what something is--like a bagel or a fire hydrant--only to find out that they don't know. I've definitely got my work cut out for me.

Impressions of America

Once again, I must apologize for not posting in awhile. I think I'll blame it on the American keyboard, which is slightly different from Italian keyboards...just enough to throw me off and cut my typing speed in half.

Here are three random things I love about America that I'd forgotten about:

1. shopping carts: They're gigantic. Almost twice as wide as Italian carts, and longer. If I were pushing one of these bad boys down an Italian supermarket aisle, it'd have to sport one of those neon yellow "wide load" signs on the side. There's enough room in there for...I don't know...at least a week's worth of groceries.

2. grocery baggers: I love these people. I'm trying to work out the logistics of luring one of them into my suitcase for my trip back to Italy.

3. seedless grapes: Call them genetically altered, if you want. But their seedy Italian cousins just don't measure up.

And here are the three coolest things about America, according to my daughters (8 and 5):

1. squirrels: My 8-year-old daughter came racing into the house the first day we were here, screaming, "Come quick! No, come NOW!" I fully expected to see my 5-year-old in a sobbing heap on the driveway, nursing a scraped knee or two. But no. My daughters had sighted five squirrels frolicking in the front yard. Yup. Squirrels. Who knew? Not my daughters.

2. toast: I've never seen a toaster in an Italian home, although I have seen them in stores. In Italian bars, you can get toasted ham and cheese sandwiches (called, conveniently enough, toast). And Italians buy packages of fette biscottate, which are pre-toasted pieces of bread about the size of a playing card. So Italians do eat toast-- they just don't make it.

When I whipped out the toaster this morning, my 8-year-old wanted to toast her own bread. No problem. But instead of waiting for the bread to pop up, she tried to lift the lever after the bread had been in there all of 5 seconds. She didn't know that the bread automatically popped up when it was done. Now I'm thinking I need to come up with some kind of American reintegration program for my kids...

3. sprinklers: Since Italians aren't big on lawn care, you don't see sprinklers much, if ever. My kids ran through the sprinkler with their cousins, and now my girls want to pack a sprinkler in their suitcase to take home. I told them it'll depend on how much space the grocery bagger takes up...