When we were living in India, Woo and Goose developed their own language.  I assumed it was because they had gone from living in a predominantly English world to one where the language that they heard most often was Hindi. They heard it everywhere and it was like nothing they had ever heard before. The new language surfaced within weeks of our arrival in India, and it shared some characteristics with Hindi, mostly in how it sounded when they spoke. Woo and Goose were taking Hindi at school, so there may have actually been some Hindi mixed in.

Their imaginary language, which they named “Woo and Goose language” stuck with them for the entire year that we were in India.  It was a large part of their play, allowing them to get lost together for hours.  It both amused and confused me, watching them “talk” to each other. We were certain that they didn’t really know what each other was saying, but right from the start they acted like they knew what they were saying to each other, and they were happy.

Following our return to Canada, the language gradually faded away.  There are still times when it comes out, but they are rare.  Now they just make up words for things.  Toys that have no name, creatures that don’t resemble any known species, or contraptions that they have created or drawn all get some new name, and more often than not, these nonsense words stick.  There are a handful of terms that have become so common in our home that I have unconsciously used them in public. What I have done becomes blatantly obvious when I notice the person that I am speaking to is looking at me like I am speaking in tongues, and I silently curse the lils for sucking me into their language.

The other morning, Goose bounded into my room, too full of energy for 6:30 in the morning, so I convinced her to crawl into my bed and cuddle. We lay there contentedly for just a moment before she started to squirm and sing. I tried to keep her quiet, in the hopes of allowing a few more minutes of sleep for Willy, so I engaged her in a quiet conversation.  We talked about everything and nothing for a few minutes, until she interrupted me and said, “Mama, you’re the happifier.  Because you make me happy.”  She then continued to squirm and dance and sing in the bed while I smiled, and vowed never to curse their language again.