So My Child is Smart...

My daughter is advanced for her age. Princess Sassafrass JUST turned three and I'm constantly being asked if she's in kindergarten yet. Not only is she smart for her age, but she's tall for her age. She's been speaking full sentences since a little after one, could recite her ABC's by 15 months, could correctly identify all her letters (upper and lowercase) by 18 months, memorizes a song as soon as she hears it (so it seems), can write her name, can spell several words, has an extraordinarly large vocabulary.. I could go on. Here's the thing, she doesn't just memorize things, words, sayings, etc. She understands what she knows. She understands phonograms, she understands the meanings of the large words she uses, if she hears a word she doesn't know, she immediately asks me to tell her. She loves to learn. I can constantly see the wheels turning in her head, she always one step ahead and quickly moving on to the next thought or wonder.

Now, you may think I'm bragging, dear reader. I'm not. I'm so proud of my little girl. I think as her mother I'm entitled to feel that way, what mother wouldn't? She has a talent for learning. She's gifted. She's blessed.

Strangers, friends and family members alike have sung Princess Sassafrass's praises since she was quite young. The comments used to make me uncomfortable. I never knew what to say other than "Thank You." I didn't wanted to seem pretentious or snobby about the little Princess's abilities. I never wanted another mother to feel as if I was judging her child against mine. I don't. I can honestly say that. But, I was always so concerned. So, I often found myself countering her the compliment about her advancement with an "inadequacy." The conversation would go something like this:

Other Mom: Wow! She speaks so well.
Me: Oh, thank you. But you know, she can't run (jump, throw a ball, or other verb) very well.

Then, one day, I realized what I was doing. I was putting my daughter down. My very own daughter. I work so hard every day to encourage her, yet, when she wasn't paying attention I was inadvertently pointing out a weakness. What kind of mother was I being? I unintentionally made it sound as if I only appreciated her for the things she excelled at, and faulted her for the things she didn't. I was so angry with myself, and so ashamed. When I came to this horrid realization, I knew I had to make a change, but first, I had to come to terms with my daughter's gifts and the compliments that come with them.

Here's the thing. There are people out there, who, despite my best efforts, will accuse me of bragging. Maybe they just don't want to hear me talk about Princess Sassafrass and her newest accomplishment, maybe they're jealous, although I hope not. Who knows. Who cares. My daughter is talented. She's intelligent, she has a desire to learn and the drive to do it. This is her gift. Every child, just like every adult has a gift, or even gifts. My little girl loves to learn and has an enormous imagination. But, in all honesty, she's not the most athletic child. And I'm okay with that. She's a great little dancer and loves her ballet class, but throw a ball well she cannot. And that's okay. My best friend's little boy (and she won't mind me saying this), while not as verbally or cognitively advanced as Princess Sassafrass, is incredibly coordinated. He's had a gun for an arm since he was crawling, he began walking at nine months and was jumping (and jumping off of things) by a year. His physicality is his strength. I'm not jealous of that, nor is my daughter.

And that's the thing. For some reason, with the gentle, beautiful emotions of motherhood comes the ugliness of competition. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about winning... sports, though. But, when it comes to kids, why are we so quick to match them up against each other, like sweaty boxers? Why do playdates turn into one-up sessions? Kids don't care who speaks better or who can kick a ball farther. They are only concerned with running around like crazies, laughing at the silly sounds they make, eating ketchup with their fingers and watching the same roly-poly bug repeatedly try, without success, to climb over a pebble.

So, my kid is smart. I'm happy to say it. I'm proud of her. I always have been, I always will be. I'm grateful for the talents with which she's been blessed and am so excited to watch her and help her develop those talents and see new ones emerge. I think that's just part of being a mom. But, my hope is that, while encouraging her and teaching her to be grateful for her abilities, I can also teach her to recognize the gifts others have been blessed with -- and to appreciate them.

So, thank you, she is very smart. And I'm not ashamed to admit it.