And oh ma gawd, do you think I care? If you're one year old is sitting next to me reciting Shakespeare, I'm not impressed. Actually you've accomplished the opposite. I think you're an idiot that buys shit off of infomercials and someone that has a lot of weird-ass insecurities to think that making your kid recite shit on demand makes you look smarter. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned my stance on this before.
We went back to gymnastics over the weekend. Sabrina loves, loves, loves it. She does not do any sort of gymnastics. Even the somersaults she can't get enough of at home are absent the minute we set foot in the 16,000 square foot facility. Instead, she belly flops. All over the mats. She takes a couple fast steps and flings herself face first onto the mat. Then she laughs. Other people laugh. I laugh. She's having a blast, and she's funny.
As I watched my daughter propel herself face first onto the mat, to the right of me I saw a little girl who was barely one walking on the balance beam. No shit, walking on the balance beam. Granted it was only an inch off the floor, but she was balancing perfectly and walked the entire length of it to her mom who was waiting at the other end with her arms outstretched.
The kid was like some prodigy or something. Now, this mom was nice and wasn't in your face about her daughter's obvious talent so it wasn't annoying.
Then I look and the little girl is hanging from the rings. Literally hanging there, holding on to one ring in each hand. I have no idea where she got the upper body strength to do that. Knowing that Sabrina has about as much upper body strength as me (read: not much), and I know that because we spent months in physical therapy discussing her lack of upper body strength which the PT felt was due to her torticollis while I was trying to explain it was clearly genetic. And on a side note, my arms are not small and cute and I think if you're going to have a weak upper body, it should at least be small and cute. Right? Anyway. So I knew Sabrina couldn't hang from the rings but I thought if I held her, she could hold on and I don't know, have fun. Or something. So I picked her up and gave her one of the rings to grab. And she put it on her head. And laughed. And I laughed. And the prodigy's mom laughed but not in a mean way (I think).
As we were getting ready to leave, I sat on the bench to put on her shoes. There was a man and his son sitting there doing the same thing. As soon as I sat down, the dad started:
Dad: "Can you say sock?"
Poor kid that has watched the My Baby Can Read series way too much: "sock".
Dad: "Can you say shoe?"
Dad: "Can you say jacket?"
Dad: "What's your name?"
Dad: "How old are you?"
Dad: "NOOOOO! Ha ha. You aren't two. YOU ARE ONE! Just ONE!"
Okay dad, I got it. Your kid is one and talking clearly.
Meanwhile, Sabrina stole a Croc out of one of the cubbies and I had to chase her. She's obsessed with Crocs. What is it about those hideous shoes? Anyway.
I wanted to do two things. First I wished I had a business card with my blog info printed on it so the dad could see how some people perceive what he's doing to his kid. And by some people, I mean myself.
Second, I wanted to tell him how much fun my daughter - who doesn't speak, doesn't do what you're supposed to do on any of the gymnastics equipment, who thinks face planting is a sport, who laughs her ass off each time she flings herself into a wall, who smiles so big I think her face will crack when she's just playing and having fun - how much fun she has just being a one and a half year old who enjoys life a lot right now. How much fun I have every second just watching her and playing with her be that goofy kid.
I just don't see quizzing your kid every five seconds as fun for your kiddo. Stop over thinking this parenting thing, it's not that tough. Not if you don't make it out to be.