Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Sin-chhù: role-playing house



Recently, Taikun developed an idea of developing his own world, or “chhù (house)” as I called it. I have proposed this idea to him using the “valley” space between the coach and coffee table in the living room. When he sat in the valley, I told him to imagine his "house"--hiding in this space with a fleece blanket covering over him. We had a lot fun.

Later, he found his way of playing it: he lifted up a sofa mattress and hid underneath it, pretending it’s his home. He would asked me to sit join him, sitting “inside” his home—that is, squeeze myself into the cramped  space on the sofa after a mattress is removed.  

Now, his imagination advanced. He often climbed to my bed playing with the quilt. He rolled the quilt around him and sitting on the bed, as if the rolled quilt was a castle for him. He grinned satisfactorily after the “castle” was completed. He called this as his “sin-chhù (new house)”

Role playing house: Monday, July 29 2013

After dinner he played again his “sin-chhù” on my bed. “Goa beh sin-chhù (I want new house),” he demanded. Holding my hand, he then drag me into my bedroom.
I took this opportunity to interact with him regarding what he should do if this is his house.

“Goa beh goa-e sin-chhù  lāi-té (I want to be inside my new house),” he said, sitting inside the rolled quilt. He also invited me to be in, pointing to an empty space beside him on the quilt, “Papa lai goa-e sin-chhù  lāi-té. Chia ū-chi̍t-ê  ūi (Papa come inside my new house. There is a place [seat] [for you])”

“Kit dih chia (go at there)” [note: should be “lai chia,” come here], he urged. Then I sat beside him on the bed. “A-kun, che-si lihm tau. ai chhéng  lâng-kheh lim mi̍h-kiāⁿ (A-kun, this is your house. You have to treat the guest drink something.)”




“Ho-a, li beh lim siahⁿ-mih”? (Okay, what do you want to drink?)”

I pondered, “Goa beh lim chúi. (I’d like to drink water.)”

Then he moved his hands forming some actions, feigning “picking a cup and getting water in it.” Then he “gave” it to me.

I followed, feigning getting the cup and drank it. “to-siā (thank you),” I said.

He then asked quickly again, “Papa, li go beh lim siahⁿ-mih (Papa, you want drink anything else)?” I responded with “kó-chiap (juice).” He repeated all hand movements and gestures, and gave it to me.  I thanked him.


Afterwards we exhausted all liquids I could come up with, such as coffee, tea, milk. I resisted to share with him items he isnot supposed to know now, like “chiú(wine)” or “ bih-luh  (beer).” I’ll save those words after he becomes older.  
After all liquids available to drink I knew were gone, he still inquired “li beh lim siahⁿ.” I then proposed him to ask “li beh  chia̍h siahⁿ (what would you want to eat).” He followed, and then I finished all I could think of, including items he has been eating recently like cheese. To my surprise, when I said oatmeal, he would stand up, going to the front of the bed, “ai thng-sî (need a spoon.)” then he “gave” me all things together. After prompted with peach, he got me a fork, “the̍h chhiám-á”, since peach is served in pieces with a fork aside.

Later I know this is called “house” (orままごと in Japanese). I think this is a good practice for developing inter-personal relationships. He adapt to different situations---interacting with me differently with different items.

Tuesday, July 30 2013

This morning when T and I were still sleeping, he climbed up to our bed, wanting to build his sin-chhù.  When he acquired his building materials by removing the quilt from us, T protested that she felt cold wanting it back.

I also complained to him that , “ A-kun, Lih thau-the̍h goa e mî-phōe. Hō goa (You stole my blanket. Give it to me)”

He looked surprised. “Huh?  ji̍t-thâu (the sun?)”

We all cracked up.

I guess this is his first experience of building “a man cave,” or a “secret base” as named by Taiwanese or Japanese people reminiscent in their boyhood.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Reading take-off

After passing 2, Taikun started to interest in storytelling as I have noticed after moving to New York in fall 2012. After spring of 2013 when the weather getting warmer, he became interested in “reading”—albeit just for pictures. In additional to storytelling, he would take a storybook, flipping the pages on his own. I often saw him standing reading—turning the pages of a book on a table or on a coach by himself, enjoying the pictures. He concentrated on it very seriously and devotedly.

T bought a book “Curious George,” originally published in 1940s. This is a “70th Anniversary Edition”, or Complete Adventures of Curious George, collecting some of the best story in this series.  It became Taikun’s favorite must-haves. He loved it so much—and he must carry it around, from living room to bedroom, from downstairs to upstairs, and even from home to the car when going to daycare.

This book was fun even for adults. The settings of story were about the adventures of a monkey named George and his partner Yellow-hat man (“n̂g bō-á Papa” as I interpreted it), who caught the monkey in a forest, and then both lived together. Based on this monkey’s curiosity, the storylines extended various explorations. 

While Taikun couldn’t understand the words and could only enjoy the illustrations, I tried to come up with the storytelling without referring to original text at all. I simply looked at the graphs and devised my own version of story—oftentime I found it’s far more fascinating.

I was attracted to this book based on nostalgic reasons—although the storylines was timeless, all the illustrations were retro. It’s fun to see how different operation room in a hospital and subway cars in 1940 were from today’s. It’s also fascinating to see streets of New York and the life of people—say entertainment with a chorus in 1940s.

Saturday, July 27 2013

We gave him a new book “The bridge is up!”. T, A, and I told him this book many times, of course, using different interpretations with using different languages. 

His curiosity also burst, connecting the storytelling to some unrelated issues to the storyline. He asked a lot questions seemingly related, but I know reasonable and definitely related to his understanding to the world and his life at this stage.

According to A, for example, when told the famous Taiwanese story “hó-ko-pô (Tiger Aunt)”, regarding two major characters a pair of sisters, he inquired if there a mother for them. After A replied yes, he continued, “where is she?” Or in my case, e.g., when seeing the pictures showing a bridge and water underneath, he asked? “ū hosu mo? (Is there a hose?)”.

In the late evening of July 26 (Sat), I read the book for him. After finishing once he asked to say it again and I did. This time I pointed English to him, reading them and interpreting them in Taiwanese. Hopefully this way he will gradually understand languages in written form. All of a sudden he became curious about the road where all characters were trapped due to the bridge was up. Looking at the road in the illustration, he asked what that was “che sia-mih? (what is this?)”. I replied it was a road, which was painted in black asphalt. Then he continued, “che gio kih to-wi? (Where does the road go?)” Without waiting for my response, he followed, “Ki Tai-oan. Goa beh a-kong a-ma.  (To Taiwan? I’d like to see grandpa and grandma.”

I was so surprised. Excited, I then asked him, “Goa choa lih kih Tai-oan, ho-mo? (I bring you to visit Taiwan, okay?)” “Ho-a (Okay)”, he followed, “chē-chhia (let’s ride a car.)” I then explained to him that we can’t since there is a sea between. “Sia-mih si hai (what is a sea),” he asked. I followed the sea is a big piece of water, and car cannot go. We have to take a plane or a boat. “poe-hêng-ki ai chē  chin-kú, (it’ll take long riding a plane)”, I followed, “ai-che cha̍p-jī tiám-cheng (it takes 12 hours).”

He looked understanding and replied “ho! (Yes!)” with a satisfactory grin. I was so touched—this is the first time he showed his proactive interest of Taiwan. Though the identity issue is still a long way to go, I would like to say “bravo” for my cute little boy.

Intellectual development



Friday July 20 2013

For months Taikun has been following a routine in the night before bedtime: brushing teeth, and bathing, watching Jagainukun, and storytelling on bed. In recent week after moving to the new place, thanks to a much-improved bathroom, we accumulate water in the bathtub for him to play. He was given a yellow duck as a toy.

Tonight, when skypeing with grandma around the time of 9:30pm, we proposed to him to go upstairs to have a bath. Of course, he refused, “Bo lang ga goa chitt-toh. (Nobody playing with me).”  Intrigued by his response, T proposed to him that we (both T and I) will play the yellow duck with him.

He recognized our trick, retorting in Mandarin: “Okay I will play the little yellow duck, but I don’t want to take the bath.”

T lamented that it’s getting harder to harder to trick him into obedience. 



Wednesday, July 31 2013:

[Intell. development] Now Taikun can connect connect a situation in a storytelling to his real life in order to win applause from the family. During the storytelling of ho-go-bo (Tiger Aunt) by A, Taikun reacted in Mandarin: I’d like to kick/ get ho-go-bo out. Papa and mama then will be happy.  
 

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Waterplay at home



Friday, July 19 2013

Inspired by Taikun’s recent first-experiences of water (pool and waterplay at daycare), T has been thinking about getting him some toys to enjoy at home. After dinner, we made a trip to Target and bought two items—one plastic slide with water jets on sides, and one waterhose with tiny protruding nozzles that inject water out to air.

He loved them so much, especially for the waterhose. After getting home he couldn’t wait to get’em and opened them, only being discouraged since it was way too dark to play outside. “Too late tonight,” we told him to wait until tomorrow.

Saturday, July 20 2013

Around 8:45am, loud calls from Taikun’s bedroom: “Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama!” T still with eyes closed, wanted me to check him.

When I pushed the door in, he sat on the bed smiling. “Papa  gâu-chá,” he grined. I also followed, “”A-kun ma  gâu-chá.” Looked like this will be a good-mood day for him.

While I was wondering if he remembered the dream water-play items that we didn’t allow him to open last night, “Goa beh chhit-thô sin-beh e hosu! (I want to play with the newly-bought hose!)” He has his heart set on them—and asked for them in the first place right after he wakes up.

“Ai- dan  chia̍h-pn̄g, ([you have to] wait after the meal.)” I continued, “Mama e chá-tǹg chia̍h-pá  tio̍h ho li chhit-thô (After you finish Mama's meal, [I'll let] you to play with it) ”. He was axcious, “Goa beh hosu! (I want hose)” Then he used a red crab, a bath-toy that would march in the water if its spring is fastened, to hit me. I protested. “Papa si-le, (Papa sorry)” he continued. 

While I showed my displeasure by “crying” on his bed, he hit me again—this time harder. Though it didn’t hurt, to educate him, I immediately left his room, feigning crying.

Then I overheard he monologed by himself from his bedroom: “Goa phah Papa nn̄g-bai. Papa tio̍h khàu a (I hit Dad twice. Dad then cried.)”. Interesting. Was he apologizing, or he was verbally reviewing what just happened? 

At 9:40am, he entered my study, apologizing repetitively: “Papa goa beh go phah li lo. Si-le (Papa I won’t hit you anymore. Sorry). Papa goa beh go phah li lo. Papa goa beh go phah li lo. Papa si-le.” 

Then he started to mess up with my desktop items. To show him the correct attitude, I asked him to look at my eyes when speaking it, “ khòaⁿ gao-e ba̍k-chiu.” He followed, repeating his apology when looking at my eyes.  I accepted his apology and hugged him.

Then changed his diaper, he repeated, “goa siou-dan go-beh chit-toh goa sin-beh e gam-a sek e hosu! Yong ga-do ga. (later I want to play the newly-bought, orange-color waterhose. Use a scissor to cut [the package open.])

T then opened the box he has dreamed for the entire night. We placed on it on backyard grass and connected it to the tap. After turning on the tap, water started to blast from its nozzles. It worked! 

The big moment came: Taikun has waited anxiously in the playroom. “Wow! Waaah!” He shouted so loudly when we opened the door allowing him to backyard. T then stepped out to turn on the tap. 

When he walked down the steps to the grass, his prudence prevailed: instead of dashing to the hose on the grass, he slowly approached it and looked at it. After nearing and getting wet, he realized the “danger” of the toy and run away many times. He loved it, returning many times to explore more of it. However, the nozzles were soft and turned aimlessly when blasting water. I guessed this unpredictability kept him a distance-- he couldn’t just fully immerse himself in it. Looked like he inherited a conservative mind.

Despite his resistance, T later held him to get close to the hose, to show him the mechanism of the waterjets. At first he grumbled in T’s arms reluctant to go. Gradually, he was willing to near it. Hope he understood how this toy worked.
Quickly Taikun got soaked and we brought him indoors to. There are still a lot of new things waiting you to explore.