Mar Andreu

firstName

lastName

email

updatesConsent

Stay up-to-date with my words ✍️

This is about the time I was pregnant with my Layla and, for whatever crazy hormonal reason, I just could not stand the smell of strawberries. Not at all. And it didn’t help that every time Mar came back from preschool, she brought all sorts of smells with her that just made my stomach turn.

Now, Mar always been obsessed with strawberries. Loved them then, loves them still. But back then, because of my pregnancy and my new super-sensitive nose, I just stopped buying them—didn’t even realize I had done it, really. It must’ve been around month two or three of the pregnancy when strawberries vanished from our house.

Here’s where it gets funny. Suddenly, she starts talking about 'stovies.' We had no clue what she meant. She’d just drop the word here and there, completely out of the blue. And we're racking our brains trying to figure out if it's something from English or Spanish, but nope, nothing clicked.

Fast forward to like month seven or eight of my pregnancy. We’re at our friends’ place for lunch, having a good time, catching up. Then, our friend comes out of the kitchen with this big bowl of berries for dessert, strawberries front and center. And I kid you not, my daughter's eyes just light up, and she screams, “STOVIES!!!”

Turns out, 'stovies' was her toddler way of saying strawberries this whole time, and we had no idea! Ignacio and I looked at each other. I don't know what he felt, but I felt the worst parent ever. Stovies were welcomed back in our home after that. So were strawberries. Everyone in our household still loves straweberries.






Stovies

This hilarious mix-up that happened when Mar was around 2 years old. We were just chilling at home, Ignacio wasn't at home, I don't remember what we were doing but we were going up the upstairs. Out of nowhere, she comes up to me going, "Shorts, shorts, shorts!" over and over. I look down, and she's already wearing shorts. I'm totally confused but keep guessing what she could possibly want—different shorts, something to go with the shorts? Who knows!

It keeps going until she finally loses it and yells, "¡Mami, CAMISETA!" And then it clicks—she wasn't talking about shorts at all; she wanted a shirt! I couldn’t stop laughing after we figured it out.

It’s just one of those classic moments in a bilingual household. One word leads to another, and next thing you know, you're both cracking up over a complete misunderstanding. Honestly, these little mix-ups? They’re the best part of our day. Raising a bilingual kid is a wild ride, but it’s moments like these that just make it all the more fun. 

Stories

Stovies

The shorts