keeping it real

Littlebaby has become quite the riot. Since he started walking, he's taken full advantages of its freedoms and getting into all kinds of trouble (ie, falling down the stairs, banging and bloodying his teeth on the bedpost). i'm guessing this is par for the course with babies, and maybe boys in particular, but what do i know? Despite the occasional Category 5 tantrum, he's mostly quite mellow, and when he turns that big goofy, Mad-TV grin on me, I just have to smile back and then throw him down to wrestle him. And then stuff him with Gulpi Chalaw from Kabul.

One thing that I feel pretty paranoid about is how I gauge my kid's development, physically and intellectually. In my line of work, you get lots of parents who must insist that their child is "bright" or "gifted" and that it's really the teacher's fault for not "teaching to my child's learning style." I have heard a parent respond snappishly and defensively with "Well, ___ IS advanced." Whoa. Sorry.

It all kind of makes me want to die a lot, but now that I have a kid of my own, I find myself wondering if Sam is indeed "bright" or "gifted"? Or is he "average?" "Slightly above average?" And should it matter? I get totally invested when his gym kids teacher says he's bright. So does that mean that I am going to turn into the crazy mom who enrolls him in Kumon in 6 months? Starts building his resume at 4 years? Try to get ahead of the next Ivy-desired trend so he can get into Harvard (which btw, should Sam or any other sibling ever get into ... it is an offer I simply cannot refuse. Um, not that their choice/opinion matters)? Where does it stop? How do I stop from letting it start?

Case in point. Sam, probably from my mom, started pointing to pictures of cats and tigers and calling them "mao-maos," the Chinese word for cat. It's pretty cute. I felt pretty proud of his linguistic schools (hollaaaaaa, Noam Chomsky!) And then to sort of rein myself in, I reminded myself that it sounds a whole lot like "mum mum" (Chinese baby onomotapaeic word for food), "meh-meh" which he uses for milk, and on the very rare occasion "ma-ma" which he uses to manipulate me into doing something for him. So maybe it doesn't mean anything. But he used it with such regularity to cats, that I let myself believe he IS talking about cats. More proud. Then he started expanding his use of mao-mao. It now includes most four-legged and furry creatures. The puppy laminated on the floor of Safeway in front of the dog food? Mao-mao. Which I rationalize ... well, it COULD look like a cat. Right?

But now? Now I swear mao-mao is arbitrary. The refrigerator? Mao-mao. Me? Mao-mao. Blanket, chair, computer? Mao-mao. Maybe he is just average after all. And I'm okay with that, right? He's not behind or anything?

I suspect this is going to be an on-going battle for myself, especially since I'm a guidance counselor constantly gauging who should be going to what type of college. I want to be a normal, balanced mom and just happy that my kid is healthy and engaging. He is a pretty nice little guy to everyone (flaps his arm at most people and cars going by). I want to celebrate his achievements, and push him a little to stretch himself without getting all spectrumy -- leaning too far into the YOU MUST BECOME AN INTERNATIONAL MATHLETE camp or the LET'S CELEBRATE YOUR 12TH PLACE FINISH ELABORATELY camp. There has to be some middle ground. Isn't there?