Why I’m convinced my kids are geniuses

My two month old just discovered his mobile and he is currently lying on his back cooing at the teddy bears. The mobile isn’t even on. He’s just lying there talking to the teddy bears. And I am convinced this is genius. This is why I don’t consult with the baby books. I am secretly terrified when I look up two months it will say at two months your baby should lie on his back and talk to teddy bears. And my bubble will burst.

My two year old has me equally convinced. Yesterday, when we sat down to read Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb I began with the title Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb by… and he interrupted me and said Al Perkins. Just like that. Al Perkins. Is that not genius?

Of course, being the cynic that I am, I openly admit only to my kids being average. But secretly I’m convinced they are spectacular. My baby lifted his head at least two inches off the ground and I know he will be drafted into the NFL at the tender age of 15 only to turn them down so that he can become a world famous doctor slash rabbi.

But the scary thing about genius is that I think it needs to be cultivated. And I am not a cultivator. I’ve killed five rosemary plants in the past few months and that was when all they needed was water. I’m a little scared of these budding young uns implanted in my care, thirsting for knowledge I probably don’t possess.

“What’s this Mama?” I’m questioned around four thousand times a day by my two year old. He calls me Mama because I told him that was my name. And he believes me. He doesn’t consider that I may have made that up just because I love hearing small blue eyed children with Jamaican/Hispanic/African American accents call me Mama. And therein lies the problem. He believes what I say. So I need to have some good things to tell him.

And I do lie. He has a set of plastic lizards and he insists on asking me what each of them are.

“What’s this one, Mama,” he asks, holding each one up individually.

The lizard answer bored him so they are now lady salamanders, brown tailed reptiles, and spotted iguanas.

So not only do I have to cultivate a thirst for knowledge, I have to actually fill that thirst.

But not this second. Right now my baby is crying. Maybe the genius thinks the bears in his mobile are going to attack him.


2 responses to “Why I’m convinced my kids are geniuses

  1. Literally laughing out loud. Always wondered where that charmed “mama” came from. Did he actually know the author of that book? So glad you could make me laugh after a long, exhausting day!

  2. Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Missing Pacifiers

    glad i could make u laugh too! he did actually know the author- he knows two al perkins (pronounced al puwkinz) and seuss (he leaves out the dr part)

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