I am standing in my bathroom watching my 1.5-year-old daughter, Evie, as she plays in the bathtub. The water is splattered with tugboats, foam letters, and random items she’s found around the house – regardless if the stuff was waterproof or not.
Bubbles cling to everything as she splashes around.
Music is playing in the background (kid’s songs, of course) and I find myself enjoying this small slice of time where my child is stationary and not ransacking the house. I think her future career options might be in either demolition or dictatorship based on her current behavior.
As Evie’s fingers and toes shrink up like raisins, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star starts to play. The melody and tempo are a change from the upbeat tunes that were just filling the room.
Evie seems to notice. Her play slows down just a bit.
Then, she begins to sway and sing along with the tune. She doesn’t sing the words themselves, but she “ahhh’s” along with perfect pitch. I feel time slow down. Looking at her in the water, surrounded by bubbles, a stethoscope, and bits of chewed-up bath crayons, I wonder to myself…
“Is my kid a genius?”
Singing along to a song seems advanced. I know every parent thinks their child is basically the next Jesus, but maybe my child is the next Taylor Swift? I try to recollect the developmental progress of my two older girls to determine if this type of skill level is normal at 20 months. I then immediately remember that my long-term memory is as spotty as swiss cheese. That’s what baby books are for and sadly I know I didn’t document “sings along to songs” on any of those pages. But I do have when they got their first molars. How that information will ever be relevant or useful is still not apparent to me.
Do I only find Evie’s ability to sing a couple notes impressive because I spend most of my day with a toddler? Have I lowered my standards? Do I need adult friends?
Possibly.
But still, I think it’s entirely natural to see genius in your kids. To view every achievement as a celebration. To wonder at how they grow, learn, and evolve every day of their lives. What once was a squirmy blob that looked more like a beluga whale than a baby, is now a bubble-covered tot humming along to a nursery song.
The sheer speed that babies grow and learn in their first few years is almost magical. If we all advanced like that as we aged, imagine where we’d be now? What we would have achieved in all our years? At 39 years old, I still can’t ice skate despite multiple attempts, but Evie has managed to learn how to crawl, walk, run, and balance on one foot in 10 months. We stop that rapid growth at some point in our lives – that impressive change that happens in our early years. Seeing this growth in our children, coupled with our own lack of growth, might be a reason this advancement is so impressive.
As I listen to Evie finish her version of the song, I record that sweet sounding note in my head. I realize I don’t care if the books say this skill means she’s a child prodigy. To me, I am astounded and, it’s even if it’s not genius to everyone, it’s genius to me.