"At preschool, playing with Benjamin, I play basketball. And basketball with Benjamin. At preschool? Basketball. I like basketball"
The other day, I tried to get him to talk to me in Creole, and he refused. I'm thrilled that he has picked up English so fast, but I'm also a little sad that he is losing his Creole. I thought we might continue learning together, and end up a bilingual family. But it's gotten to the point where if I used a Creole phrase, he will correct me with the English words he knows.
The Creole has become my fall-back if he's not listening. It has become the parenting equivalent of using the dreaded middle name.
"Kemba, it's time to eat, come sit down. Sit down and eat. CHITA AK MANJE!"
Jafta, on the other hand, takes glee in learning Creole phrases. But like a typical big brother, he also takes glee in getting a rise out of Kembe, and talking in Creole is a sure way to do that. For example, tonight, when he repeatedly told Kembe it was "tan pou dòmi", to which Kembe shouted, "No, it's SLEEPY TIME! Not domi-time". As if they were fighting over an invisible line in the backseat. (Remember that? No? Just me with my sister?)
So, just to wrap up: Kembe has denounced his native tongue, I now use Creole as a disciplinary technique, and Jafta uses it as a way to annoy his brother.
Somehow I don't recall this being what the international adoption book recommended.