I’m sure every parent is totally convinced that, with the arrival of the much-anticipated uttering of the first word (which in The Bee’s case was, by the way, the word “more”…gulp) their child is a certified genius so with that in mind, I do hope you’ll forgive me for stating in no uncertain terms that, well, our child is a certified genius.
There. I said it.
Last night, she was up until one a.m. discussing the influence of the Russian Revolution on modernist literature with her daddy…
The Bee: “No Daddy, not only are you completely and wholly unqualified to make that assertion about F. Scott Fitzgerald, it’s a ludicrous statement to begin with. Here, let me show you this passage in Tolstoy where…ah! A translation, why do you bother harboring translations in our home, I beg you? Please provide me the raw text with which I can finally prove my point”
Daddy: Um…sweetheart? Can I get you some Cheerios and continue this later?
Okay. So it’s a stretch.
In truth we are forcing her to wear giant sunglasses and the above photo is her caught in a vain attempt to remove them with fingers that still don’t quite work so well.
But lord, she is smart and her process of language acquisition is blowing me away. There are several words she understands and connects meaning to (daddy, cheese, poop, diaper, table, kitty, etc) but can’t say although if you say those words, she looks for the thing you mentioned. In the past week she’s made some pretty great attempts at words like “balloon” (which comes out sounding like b’oon) and the ever-cute “uh-oh” when she drops something as well as other words like “baby” (sounds more like bah-bay) and, of course the word “mama” which warms the very cockles of my heart to hear and just gave me an opportunity to use “cockles” in a sentence.
I can’t wait until she starts talking. I’ve heard so many parents say with exasperated looks on their faces, “once she starts jabbering you’ll wish she was just a little baby you could hold and have quiet again” but no. I don’t believe that at all. Those were the same people who said when The Bee wasn’t crawling yet “Oh, just wait until she starts crawling. You’ll wish she just stayed in one place again!” … I didn’t buy that line and I don’t buy it about her talking. If I’ve learned anything about myself during this whole baby thing (and man, have I ever) it’s that I am not a helpless-baby-person. It scared me to death when she was unable to interact or communicate in any way. Now that she’s getting a little older and a lot more with it, I’m really digging this. It’s a lot of fun and each day brings something new. My theory is that those women who were telling me I’d just wish for a helpless fleshball baby were the same women who, when young girls, loved to play with baby dolls (feed them, change imaginary poo, etc). I never got into that. So maybe this theory contends that if you were someone who loved to play with dolls (like in that serious mothering way) then you’ll be a helpless-baby-person who dreads the day the baby becomes more of a person.