O is for Oh My Gott!

Leo’s German has begun to explode.

During previous visits to Germany, it was painfully clear that—while Rafi’s comprehension was excellent—Leo didn’t understand a word. Whenever one of Erol’s family members spoke to him, he’d furrow his brow and exclaim, “WHAT?!”

The first couple of months here in Freiburg passed in relative silence for him, which couldn’t have been easy for such a gregarious little guy. But now that he’s settled into his new kindergarten (which we’ll be so sad to leave), he’s become quite the little chatterbox. A blossoming friendship with fellow five-year-old Henry has definitely helped.

On Thursday, I picked both boys up for a post-kindergarten playdate. Two little helmeted melons bobbed side by side in the cargo bike as they nibbled on raisin buns and kept up a constant stream of conversation.

“Mein Bruder hat sein Zehn geschluckt,” I heard Leo tell Henry—trying to recount the time Rafi accidentally swallowed a tooth while eating ice cream.

“Er hat seinen Zahn verschluckt?” Henry clarified, subtly correcting Leo’s pronunciation of Zahn, the German word for tooth.

Leo nodded, and they both giggled.

An unusually calm moment during an otherwise wild play date

Children learning from their peers is the most magical kind of language acquisition: mistakes are corrected naturally, effortlessly, and without a hint of judgment.

Rafi’s German was stronger from the start, and it’s improved in parallel with Leo’s. But because he’s a full three years older, he’s already beyond what experts call the "critical period," when language is absorbed unconsciously through immersion and play. Now almost eight, Rafi approaches language more cerebrally. I catch him translating English phrases directly, or stumbling over verb conjugations—like saying “Ich habe gegehen” instead of “Ich bin gegangen” (I went).

Still, he seems at ease in German and has made friends with local kids who take his non-native speaking completely in stride. He recently participated in the Rain Forest Run—a major local event attended by several public schools—and despite some pre-race nerves, he took off alongside his classmates and fit right in (the blond hair certainly helps!).

Rafi running in the Rain Forest Run with his school

The fact that Rafi is a bit behind his peers in school doesn’t seem to bother him, which surprises me, given how hard he can be on himself. His teacher says he asks for help when he needs it, and she's impressed by his Ehrgeiz—his ambition—and his determination to complete his homework, even when it’s challenging. That’s not to say homework isn’t a battle at home (it definitely is!), but he’s committed.

Rafi's report on his Easter vacation in Tel Aviv

My favorite part of this whole process is the mishmash (to borrow a great Yiddish word!) that emerges.

Leo’s current go-to exclamation is, “Oh my Gott!” Rafi often asks, “Are you freuing?”—meaning, “Are you excited?”—blending the German verb sich freuen (to be happy or excited) right into his English. Leo describes how he “jumped so high into the pool and platsched!” Rafi cries, “That’s ekelig [disgusting],” or, “Ugh, it’s so schleimig! [slimy],” when something’s especially gross.

I recently published an article about my kids’ relationship to German, especially in contrast to my own. While my connection to the language is tangled—weighted with history and self-consciousness—they speak it freely, without hesitation or baggage.

One thing I observed as I wrote is the beauty in how they blend languages so effortlessly. It doesn’t matter that they don’t speak any one language perfectly. There’s grace in their fluidity, in their willingness to play at the borders of language.

I invoked the late Slovakian-born Israeli poet, Tuvia Rübner, who wrote bilingually in German and Hebrew. He once asked: Why must one master language? Why can’t one simply befriend it?

That’s exactly what I see my kids doing. They’re not just forming friendships in German, they’re forming a friendship with German itself. It’s not about mastery or dominance; it’s about empathy, curiosity, and joyful experimentation.