Since I know that since the second trimester Baby Owl has been able to hear my voice (and my heart beating, and my stomach churning), throughout my pregnancy I’ve been reading a lot of research about what exactly she can hear in her watery bubble.

Of course, there’s evidence that she can hear music, so around the house I’ve been playing and singing along to a lot of Elvis, Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin, George Strait, Jackie Wilson, Brad Paisley, Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Taylor Swift…and of course, Hanson, among many others. (I admit to being torn about my rap collection, none of which is edited. I so want my daughter to understand the brilliance of Jay-Z, but I would feel like my quest to be a good mother has gone terribly wrong somewhere if it hinges on making sure my unborn child hears me declare belligerently, “I ain’t passed the bar, but I know a little bit, enough that you won’t illegally search my s***.” Then again, that might be beneficial for her later, should she choose to pursue a law degree, right? WWJZD?)

Even more fascinating than the potential development of a sense of music appreciation, there is ample evidence that actual language learning is happening in my tummy. I’ve always been fascinated by research about how babies acquire language, but apparently, it starts much sooner than that. Babies learn the rhythm of their native language(s) long before they are born; by the time they are born, they have already learned to cry in the rhythm of the languages they’ve been exposed to. Perhaps even more fascinating, by the time babies are born, the seeds of bilingualism have already been sown.

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Of course, we also know that Baby Owl can hear loud sounds around me, including her dad’s voice, especially if he talks right next to my tummy. The problem with the research I’ve discovered so far about bilingualism in utero is that it all focuses on babies born to bilingual moms (who use both languages regularly). And sadly, although I wish I could call myself bilingual, I cannot. And I don’t want Baby Owl’s language development to be blighted by my atrocious cursory Arabic. Which is why I’ve been encouraging Mr. Owl to speak and read to her in Arabic whenever he can, even though currently, as far as I can find, there is no research that really seeks to establish whether or not dads (or other family members) talking to babies in a second language in utero has any effect on their language development. (Come on, neuroscientists, get with the program! Or send me links to research I haven’t found yet. One or the other.)

When Mr. Owl talks to Baby Owl, I think he mostly feels weird about it. Once, after he completed a lengthy conversation with her, he looked up at me sadly and said, “I feel like I’m talking to your belly button…and your belly button is ignoring me. Rude belly button!” But despite my belly button’s lack of manners, while Baby Owl is camping out behind it, I’m on a quest to foster her development in both languages.

Before Mr. Owl and I tied the knot, we had a lot of concerns to talk through (I mean, I’m American, he’s Saudi—we both had ‘em). One of Mr. Owl’s was that his kids wouldn’t speak Arabic (“Babies always learn from their moms”–he’s got a point there), but he needn’t have worried. I’m just as determined for Baby Owl to speak Arabic as I am for her to speak English–perhaps more so, because I know she will speak English. Due to all the talking (and singing–okay, warbling) she hears from me, she’ll be born with the neurological groundwork set for English. And if necessary, when she gets older, I can work with her to help her acquire academic language proficiency in English (at least until she hits, like, junior high math. Then I’ll be useless). But I can’t do any of that in Arabic, which is also why I want her to go to school in Arabic.

I read to her all the time (there’s a wealth of research that shows this is beneficial), and now I’ve been making Mr. Owl read to her every night in Arabic, as well.

So she’s getting a lot of language stimuli. And lot of it obviously involves Eric Carle. Spoiler alert for those who have never read The Mixed-Up Chameleon: the chameleon wants to be like all of the other animals at the zoo, but it soon finds that the only way it can catch the fly it wants to eat is by being its unique, colorful self. And since Baby Owl is going to be a third culture kid, neither wholly one nationality or the other, I think the tale of that mixed-up chameleon and its need to be nothing but itself is probably something that will be good for her to hear a lot, whether in Arabic or English.

Are you a bilingual family? How do you make sure your little ones get plenty of exposure to both languages?