Too damn smart

It was my 44th birthday on Monday (yes I know.. 363 days left for baby #2 to get started before the deadline runs out). It was a very nice birthday, with our new kitchen pretty much installed & operational. I have a dishwasher! Woohooo! And lots of lovely granite benchtops & plenty of cupboards.

But I digress. (You will understand the excitement when you hear my kitchen for the last 8.5 years has consisted of a stainless steel sink & small bench, and a single cupboard)

Very high benchtops are quite useful for sorting receipts without little baby people getting in to them. Nah, he was MUCH too busy opening all the drawers and pulling everything out for inspection and play.

Then at 11.17am he announced he was ready for bed, by presenting himself to me clutching both bedtime "puppies" and dummy firmly ensconced in his gob.

I opened the door, and off he trotted, with his pleased mother meekly following on behind. Okay so yeah I do have a wee chuckle at his little serious head when he's on a mission.

Tucked in, Safe-T-Sleep fastened, face kissed & monitor turned on. Nighty night darling, see you when you've had a nice nap.

Two hours later, I gave up listening to him chatter & rattle about, and decided he WASN'T going to nap today, might as well retrieve him before he got pissy. I found my son sitting up on his bed, along with every soft toy in his room, and the bedroom curtains pulled open. And the STS was completely undone.

How very cute, I thought. Perhaps he's ready to drop that last day sleep?

Yesterday, the pattern repeated itself, except THIS time as I was about to tuck him in I realised he was somewhat fragrant. Oops.. go get nappy & wipes, I can't put you to bed like this.

Off I trotted, and on my return I opened the door and SHRIEKED!

I should explain. Braeden's bed is a Fire Engine, with a "roof". Between the head of his bed & the window is his old cot mattress that is temporarily parked there (on its end) because there's nowhere else for it to live just at the mo. The mattress "top" is about five and a half feet from the floor...

... and standing right on the tippy top, swaying happily like a surfer dude, was my 21mth old son. Big glass window one side, all sorts of furniture hazards & a goodly drop on the other. And when his mother screamed, he got a bit of a fright and nearly came tumbling down.

That was one hell of a climb for a wee dude, and must have taken some nutting out. For him to undo that STS & scamper up there in less than a minute yesterday meant that he'd already practiced it the day before, while I was blythely working, and listening to his (safe?) happy chatter. That kid will turn me completely grey at this rate :-)

Last night I was invited to a meeting at his kindy, where other parents of potentially gifted kids were also in attendance. Statistically speaking, it's very unlikely our country village has 20+ gifted kids (hmm.. but it could be something in the water? LOL), but there are certainly some very bright kids at this kindy, and my sprog is right up there amongst them.

This of course delights his father, but is of considerable concern for his mother.

Whatever Brae turns out to be, I'll love him and I'll always think he's rather special. Given a choice, though, I'd rather he was "very bright" rather than "gifted". The world can be a hard place for the special ones; not the least the expectations of those around them to constantly be the best at everything. I had a much happier time as a kid when everyone thought I was slightly retarded (no shit, sherlock.. they IQ tested me at 1o to see if I should be bumped to a Remedial School). Once they found out I was supposedly gifted, life turned to custard.

Special kids are expected to skip childhood altogether (especially by their own agendas). And given that "gifted" often comes with a bonus present of learning difficulties, social awkwardness, and sometimes even emotional immaturity, it's a rather sharp two edged sword.

He's far too young to test (they recommend 4 years old at the minimum but it has been done for 2 1/2 yo's on rare occasions). However I will be monitoring him, and giving him whatever he needs, but I bloody refuse to "push" this kid.

He's got enough ambition of his own without his parents' lumped on top.

Don't grow up too fast, sweet baby. Slow down a bit & enjoy the ride.