December 16, 2005
playdough is good, and so are crayons
“We own everything electronic that’s educational - LeapFrog, Baby Einstein, everything,” said her mother, Naira Soibatian. “She has an HP laptop, bigger than mine. I know one leading baby book says, very simply, it’s a waste of money. But there’s only one thing better than having a baby, and that’s having a smart baby. And at the end of the day, what can it hurt? She learns things, and she loves them.” (See Baby Touch a Screen, but Does Baby Get It?, The New York Times, December 15, 2005)
I am fascinated by the current Build a Smarter Baby Brain trend, by the lengths to which parents feel compelled to go to give their progeny an edge. Frankly, this idea that ‘there’s only one thing better than having a baby, and that’s having a smart baby’ makes me almost unbearably sad. I have a smart baby–I have two, actually, but one is, I think, the uber-smart baby that these parents are hoping for, striving for. And I want to say to them–be careful what you wish for.
Henry tests in the 99th percentile for verbal ability; he knows more words than most children his age, and can use them to form grammatically complex sentences and paragraphs. His rote memory is off the charts; the doctor who tested him said, ‘It was amazing! I kept doing the test because I couldn’t believe how much and how perfectly he could remember!’ Yes, we said, we know. When he comes across a new word, he will ask us to define it, to use it in a sentence, often to spell it for him. He will incorporate it into conversation. One day last year, he went to school in a Spiderman t-shirt. Another boy in his class had on a different Spiderman t-shirt; Henry told his teacher, ‘Jack’s shirt has a picture of Spiderman, but my shirt just has his logo.’ He was right, but how many four-year-olds know what a logo is? Henry does, because he had been asking about the picture on my Starbucks coffee cup, and I told him, ‘That’s their corporate logo.’
Admit it–some of you are envious. You want to know what we did to build his vocabulary, how we taught him to contextualize and utilize all those words. It had to be more than just a casual conversation about the picture on my take-out coffee cup! Flash cards? Computer games? Tutoring? Wait–just wait.
Rote memory: Henry remembers everything. He can recite dialogue from movies, accurately, with proper inflection and, often, accent. He can recite entire picture books. He has memorized large sections of the Winnie the Pooh stories. He knows the words to every song on In My Tribe by 10,000 Maniacs. When he cannot hear clearly what the words are, he asks. And then he remembers them. He will sometimes sing Hey Jack Kerouac in the bathtub. He has excellent pitch, too, and a nice singing voice.
Again you are thinking, how did we do that? What is the secret? Because my god! How wonderful to have such a smart baby! He will certainly do well! Be successful! Make you proud!
But what you don’t see is this: Henry has been diagnosed with nonverbal learning disability. His verbal aptitude is remarkable, but his pragmatic language skills–his ability to understand tone of voice or facial gestures or even the simple conventions of conversation–are simply average. He can wax eloquent about Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, recounting the events of the plot in great and accurate detail, but he cannot tell you why Harry and Ron would take on a mountain troll to save Hermione, or why Ron would sacrifice himself in the chess game, or why the touch of Harry’s hand is fatal to Professor Quirrell. He does not understand how language is used to construct relationships; he cannot infer when someone is angry or amused or embarrassed. Because of this, he struggles with basic social interactions. He becomes frustrated, this overly verbal child, to the point of catastrophic tantrums, when other people cannot understand what he is talking about, or don’t share his interests. ‘Why doesn’t Luke like superheroes?’ he asked me this summer. ‘He just doesn’t,’ I said. ‘But I do!’ he said, clearly baffled. ‘And Luke is my best friend!’ ‘Okay,’ I told him, ‘but Luke likes a turkey sandwich. Do you like turkey?’ ‘No,’ he said. ‘You know I don’t like turkey.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘different people like different things.’ He thought about this. ‘But why doesn’t Luke like superheroes?’ he asked again. And we went on and on like this, all summer, until Luke finally decided to like superheroes. But Henry couldn’t understand how Luke, who is his best friend, could not like what he did.
When we tell people about Henry’s disability, the first thing they say is, ‘But he’s so SMART!’ And then they talk about his verbal skills. One friend said, ‘But he will do fine in school, won’t he? How can he not, he’s so smart!’ And the answer is, he will and he won’t. Math may be a struggle for him, especially word problems. He will have trouble gleaning the meaning of what he reads, despite his ability to memorize the actual text. He will struggle with social skills. He may be teased. With tutoring and therapy, in the right school, he will do fine. But it will not be easy, even though he is so smart.
I read about parents buying computers for their babies, hoping to give them a head start, to teach them letters and numbers and reading and counting before all the baby books say they should be doing those things. I have a friend whose son, on his own, was reading before he was two; I remember feeling envious when, at two, Henry was barely talking. But my friend’s son was subsequently diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (one characteristic of which is hyperlexia, or early reading). I sometimes wonder, when I take Henry to story time or out for coffee or other places where people see him and hear him talking with me, in his very sophisticated and grown-up way, and comment on how smart he is and how they wish their child spoke like that, knew all those words–I sometimes wonder if those parents have any idea what it means to have a child who is gifted, who is, truly, so very smart. If they have any idea that this smartness is a complicated gift, or that the real gift is to have a child who is healthy and happy and who knows that he is loved unconditionally.
We did not do anything special with Henry–no flash cards, no computer software, no tutoring. This is just the way his brain works. What I want to say to the mother in the article, the one who wants the smart baby, is this: enjoy the way your child’s brain works–play with her, talk to her, value who she is. Don’t try to reprogram her. Just love her.
Posted by Susan @ 8:35 am • Uncategorized
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December 16th, 2005 at 2:26 pm, Kristen Says:
Susan, once again I am reminded of Bryce. We get the smart comments too, and I often wish I could show those people a video of what daily life is actually like with him. It’s not all ooh-ing and aah-ing over the new factoid he learned that day.
December 16th, 2005 at 2:32 pm, Meegs Says:
I can’t remember if I’ve ever commented here before, but I’ve read your blog for a while now. I always find you funny and entertaining. But I love reading this type of post as well, the more serious thoughtful ones. I think if more parents could realize what you realize, the world would be a much happier place.
December 16th, 2005 at 3:16 pm, Laura Says:
What you say is so very true. We thought G. had NVLD before she was diagnosed with the Asperger’s. People see these kids and think you are coddling them for having them in special ed., speech therapy, OT, etc. “But they’re just eccentric!” Not so much.
It is a gift to have a smart child, but as Monk says, “It is a gift and a curse.” Harder for them, naturally, but hard on the parents who are just trying to raise this little person to be happy and get along well with others.
What a great post. I wish I had had a copy of it 2 years ago when G. was first diagnosed. It would have been very useful for so many people.
December 16th, 2005 at 3:37 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
I read that article yesterday and shook my head. There is plenty of time for kids to get a good education and find out if they want to be smart. What’d you say (no, not you Susan)? I’m a bad parent because I don’t want to push my child? I’ve seen enough of what pushing your child can do in school. No thank you.
Once we learn that money isn’t everything, that winning the Nobel Prize probably isn’t in our child’s future, that having a job you love is everything even if it pays nothing, then maybe we’ll allow our kids to be kids.
And I didn’t even touch on the damage that early computer use can have on our young children. Video games cause cumulative trauma disorders like carpal tunnel. So do computer keyboards. Why do this to your kid? I don’t like it when my boss micromanages me, so I’m sure as heck not going to do it to a kid.
December 16th, 2005 at 5:23 pm, daysgoby Says:
“Don’t try to reprogram her. Just love her.”
Well said.
December 16th, 2005 at 5:58 pm, marti Says:
Have you heard of RDI — relationship development intervention? It goes to the heart of so many of these things. We began doing that with Child a few years ago, and his ability to use non-verbal is so much more strong. Inference and reading between the lines is still harder, but we’re getting there!
December 16th, 2005 at 7:35 pm, Chag Says:
An HP laptop? Geez. We’re trying to rob children of their childhood.
Great post, Susan!
December 16th, 2005 at 7:42 pm, Susie Says:
What that woman said about having a smart baby made me sad too. I’m scared of Liam being in preschool with kids like this who are going to tell him there is no Santa. I think most children “catch up” to each other somehow. It isn’t important to me that he reads before kindergarten, it’s important that he knows he’s loved for who he is. And everything he can do. Besides, I don’t want him starting his own blog.
December 16th, 2005 at 7:44 pm, Susan Says:
Oh god, Susie, if my kids figure out how to blog, I’m done for.
Seriously.
December 16th, 2005 at 8:10 pm, Misfit Hausfrau Says:
What a great post, Susan. I am often amazed by some of the mothers I am getting to know in my neighborhood. When they aren’t pushing their kids to read and learn computers, they are being shuttled to daily activites. I would be so stressed to be one of those kids…
December 16th, 2005 at 9:00 pm, Candace Says:
I often shake my head at the flash-card devotees and the “enrichment” folk. You either get a smart kid or you don’t. You can’t boost a kid’s IQ more than a couple points at any given time. I like to say (and I’ve said it at Blogging Baby) that Christopher is gifted in spite of us, not because of anything we’ve done. And most times, gifted children have some issues going along with that smartness; social, developmental, behavioral. It ain’t all sunshine and roses all the time.
Christopher’s school has a Friendship Group that teaches the chosen kids how to read non-verbal cues, how to make new friends, how to keep the ones they have, and how to do all those things that the rest of us take for granted. This is the second year he’s been in it and it’s been great for him.
December 16th, 2005 at 10:39 pm, L. Says:
I loved this post.
When I read the article about the woman and her “smart baby” fetish, I thought of how much one of my friends loves her dyslexic, learning disabled son, and how much joy he brings her. And of course I thought of my own “smart” son, who`s having problems now that all his “smarts” can`t solve for him.
December 17th, 2005 at 7:18 am, Nancy Says:
Great post. Very eloquently written and well explained.
I have a very intelligent, verbal 3 1/2 year old who has a pretty big vocabularly. She has a good memory and grasp of her letters, but is not yet reading. Some of the other parents of kids in day care were appalled that I did not sign her up for the phonics program to get her reading. I say, what’s the hurry? I don’t want to turn her off to reading. I think kids do fine learning and understanding at their own pace, especially when they seem to have a love for learning as Henry seems to and as my daughter does.
“Don’t try to reprogram her…” brilliant thought. Agreed!
December 17th, 2005 at 7:32 am, Mary P. Says:
Two of my kids are “gifted”. They are that way because they are that way. Attribute it to good genes. All three of my kids are just fine socially.
That poor baby! All her life, she will be evaluated by numbers: IQ, grades, test scores, as if her worth as a person can be calibrated by marks on a paper, charted with bars in red and black, gold stars for robot-like accuracy.
What kind of a friend will that make her? What kind of a lover, a wife, a mother, a co-workers? Will she have any originality? Will she think laterally? Will she be able to make quirky connections between seemingly unrelated things - a trait well documented in the truly brilliant?
No. If mom hs her way, baby will be a parrot. A box-ticker. A worksheet girl. A list of facts and figures, with no ability to go beyond, to make connections, to think creatively about the world.
Less electronics, more cuddling! Less button-pushing, more mucking about! Grow that baby’s mind, which is not the same thing as packing her memory full to overflowing.
Bah.
Poor, poor baby.
December 17th, 2005 at 8:58 am, mabel Says:
Amen. I have 1 “gifted” and 1 “learning delayed” and one yet to be determined. Did we do things differently with each? No. And I am just as proud of all of them, I am glad that things are easy for 1, cry sometimes because things are so hard for 2, but they are both amazing little people. The world needs more amazing people, fewer progammed ones… great post!
December 17th, 2005 at 10:21 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Amen, sister. And remember, I’m an OT, so I’m supposed to be pushing all of that crap.
Our super-parent friends had their 2 year old naming each country on a map placemat. They were so damn smug about the fact that she “knew” the countries, and gave us every indication that they thought we should be pushing our son to be just as ’smart.” And of course, the Girl had no concept that she was naming countries– to her, she was naming color/shape combinations. A 2 year old can’t grasp the idea of countries, earth, etc. Two year olds are incapable of abstract thought. But I sure as hell wasn’t about to get into that with Mom.
I noticed, during our last visit to the Perfects, that when Mom asked the girl to name a country on the placemat for us, she had no idea what Mom was talking about.
And guess who was smug then????
December 17th, 2005 at 10:25 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Oh— and BTW, these people will be our neighbors and only social contacts when we move to Canada. They’ll be the only people we know in the whole. damn. country.
Guess who will be racing out to make new friends ASAP?
December 17th, 2005 at 10:49 am, Felicity Says:
I second Meegs–I like the serious, and the not so serious.
We’re all in agreement here so there’s nothing really for me to add to this, excpet just this morning I was taking photos of Fin as her created an anchor out of tin foil and a product called Rigid Wrap. I’ve always made tons of art supplies available to my curtain climbers, though never forces anyone to do anything. I am of the school of benign neglect…it’s encouraged their creativity.
December 17th, 2005 at 11:59 am, Jenorama Says:
You pretty much described Christian in a nutshell. But Christian is, actually, better able to infer meanings and to understand things– he would be able to tell you why Ron and Harry would take on a troll to save Hermione, but he probably wouldn’t understand about the superheroes.
And the rote memory thing? Yeah, that’s pretty cool, too. I don’t know that Christian has as good a memory as Henry, but he wrote out the whole “novel” that Snoopy wrote, word for word, and I thought he was a genius. He was, just not in the way I had thought.
I don’t think that I have it nearly as hard as you do– but Christian is also older.
I hope I don’t alienate your other readers, and I will preface this by saying that you and I have spoken of this before, and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because you know what a kick I get out of my kid…but are you SURE Henry doesn’t have Asperger’s? Because what you described sure sounds like it to me.
December 17th, 2005 at 1:07 pm, Susan Says:
It’s funny you should ask, Jen, because no, I’m not sure Henry doesn’t have Asperger’s, nor are the doctors we are working with. The most recent doctor, a very nice neuropsychologist, said that she’s not ‘taking it off the table’, whatever that means.
I feel this way right now about the diagnostic label: if it gets us access to support systems that will help my son and my family, good. I don’t really care if we call it NLD (which describes most, but not all, of what we see in H) or Asperger’s or ADHD. I think–I imagine, at least–that most parents of quirky kids feel the same. I just want to help him, to give him ways to succeed and be happy in the world.
And I think that the parents profiled in the NYTimes article feel the same way about their children–they genuinely love them and want them to have happy, successful lives, but their measure of success is so heavily influenced by advertising that they feel like they are failing their child if every single moment is not somehow ‘educational.’
December 17th, 2005 at 2:58 pm, Jenorama Says:
I couldn’t agree with you more. We pursued a diagnosis when he was 8 and a half, and only to get him supports at school (which will be with him through college). That is all. I resisted the label for years.
It’s funny, though– he embraces it. His brother asked him last night, “Why do you always make that noise?”
And Christian said, “Because I have Asperger’s.”
Actually, my neighbor, who is a counselor, is convinced that he also has Tourette’s. But the medication is the same for both, and we are choosing no medication for now. If, when he is older, a medication would make his life easier, then we will pursue that option, but right now, he’s functioning just fine.
I don’t oppose medication in general. God knows I love my anti-depressants. But we are kind of going about this parenting thing on an as-needed basis.
December 17th, 2005 at 3:53 pm, Susan Says:
Jen, I think you are on to something with your philosophy of going about parenting on an as-needed basis. I think we’re all doing that (well, maybe not the parents in the article), but those of us with quirky or special kids are so much more aware of it, because we have to be.
I suspect that the doctors we are working with are avoiding the Asperger’s label because of the connection with autism and ASD. I don’t think they want to tell us that our son is autistic, because that label is so difficult. But as I said before, a label is a label. Henry is still my Henry, no matter what you call his quirkyness.
And–no one in this house gets a computer until I get my laptop. No matter how smart it might make them.
December 17th, 2005 at 4:49 pm, Mary P. Says:
What parents like the one cited here completely miss is that every moment is “educational”. Without the electronics. It’s educational for a toddler to make mud pies, to build towers of blocks and knock them down again, to dance to music, to feed the family pet,to learn to love and trust and explore the world.
Rhyming off meaningless facts (countries on a placemat, pshaw!) proves exactly NOTHING about a child’s intelligence. Nothing.
And Hausfrau, you’ll know ME!
December 17th, 2005 at 6:17 pm, Jenorama Says:
Just to continue the discussion because I think it’s so interesting, I think that
a) everyone here is so cool and we should all get together and rule the world and
b) that what doctors don’t understand, with their limited understanding of Asperger’s syndrome (and I am not merely being snarky about doctors, though I certainly enjoy that too– Asperger’s has only been around as a diagnosis for about ten years. We still just don’t know a lot about it)fail to understand is that Asperger’s, while perhaps on the same neurological spectrum as Autism, is really a very different animal.
Particularly in the sense that an Asperger’s diagnosis does not necessarily mean that a child cannot receive a mainstream education (again, there are varying degrees of Austism and Asperger’s both); does not necessarily mean that the child will not grow up, get married, have children, and function very well, albeit quirkily.
Autism, depending on the severity, seems to present a lot more obstacles and barriers, though it is not a curse.
As you said, no matter what you call it, Henry’s quirks are Henry’s quirks. Same with Christian. Holy cow is that kid quirky. But I kind of love it now when he is in full throttle Tourette’s or Asperger’s in public, because I just look at him and then look around me, at all of the other people who are uncomfortable, and I am deliberately nonchalant.
Nothing out of the ordinary here. Move along. Because, actually, running back and forth is NOT really ordinary behavior, but it’s so much more fun to pretend that MY kid is the normal one, and what the hell is wrong with all of YOU?
Because for all I know, I am right.
December 17th, 2005 at 8:10 pm, L. Says:
“…it’s so much more fun to pretend that MY kid is the normal one, and what the hell is wrong with all of YOU?”
Oh, I hope I can feel this way…
December 18th, 2005 at 7:41 am, Lynn S Says:
You have my sympathy. I was also “blessed” with a smart baby. Everything seemed great until he started to school. Well, I won’t go into details but it was 12 years of hell. Now he has an ordinary job, which he seems to like but it’s nothing near the “smart” careers that parents imagine for the kids.
I don’t know how old Henry is but not understanding why other people don’t like the same things is actually normal for young children. I wouldn’t call that a disability. His verbal skills probably just make it more obvious.
December 18th, 2005 at 12:39 pm, Felicity Says:
Yes, yes, Jen O Rama, and Susan can organize us. I want to rule the world because then I’d hand it all over to the kids and we could eat chocolate for breakfast and play with play dough and crayons all day every day.
I also really like Jen’s intentional non-chalance. I was raised in a family of, WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK? and then went on to breastfeed DD for 2 yrs before it was approved, or socially acceptable, or whatever. I’ve become SO disinterested in WHAT PEOPLE THINK that when my NT kid has a tantrum in public, it doesn’t phase me at all.
December 18th, 2005 at 1:41 pm, Susan Says:
This idea of what is ‘normal’ fascinates almost as much as the Make My Baby Smart trend, because I think they come from the same place. Media directed at parents–magazines, for example, or books like What to Expect–heavily emphasize ‘normal’ development, so much so that I think parents begin to see it as a contest rather than a progression. We worry ourselves into a frenzy because our children don’t smile on time or roll over exactly when they should or crawl in the way the books describe. At the same time, we’re fretting because we’re still not able to zip our pre-baby jeans or because we don’t even have FIVE MINUTES for makeup or because we didn’t buy that Peg Perego stroller everyone says is so fantastic. And if the baby’s not singing the alphabet song at her first birthday, while you smile along in a size 2 dress, well, you’ve failed! Because those moms in the magazines? They can do it.
But that’s not normal. At all. My friend Leslie is always telling me, ‘Everyone has something that’s not right.’ And I think she’s right. But because we measure ourselves against these huge ideals–NYTimes mommies who buy laptops for babies!–we can never measure up.
And then, when you start to talk about kids who are hardwired differently, it becomes even more heartrending. Because I can get those pre-baby jeans on now, but for the most part I wear them to conferences with Henry’s teachers and doctors appointments.
But for me, this IS normal. And Jen is right–normal is such a subjective term. My quirky kid is funny and smart and interesting, and so is my other kid. And so are the kids profiled in the article, regardless of what technologies they are burried under.
It’s all about owning what is normal for you. For your kid.
December 18th, 2005 at 4:55 pm, McSwain Says:
Good points here–I have an incredibly bright boy, way ahead of his peers in many areas. While he has no clinical issues, he can be incredibly difficult to live with because he hears a different drummer. At any rate, I didn’t foster his “smarts” with all that stuff. How did I do it? By just letting him be a kid. No flashcards, fancy computer games, overscheduling or anything like that. I talk to him, and give him plenty of old-fashioned unscheduled playtime. People need to get a clue and let kids be kids–they learn by playing!
December 18th, 2005 at 8:35 pm, Kristen Says:
Susan - good point about the “normal” thing. For so long, I thought both my kids were in some way (or many ways) “abnormal” or “behind” or some other label with negative connatations. The more time that goes by, though (and the more places I find like this, actually), the more I realize that my kids are completely fine. Everyone, every family, has its quirks and “issues” to deal with. When I hear about people like my mom’s friend, whose baby was born with major heart defects and may not live through the month, I’m reminded that these quirks (under an official label from a doctor or not) are just part of the life my kids will lead. That life can be as “difficult” or as fulfilling as I show them it can be, depending on how I continue to react to whatever challenges may come up. Either way, it’s a blessing. They could be in an ICU bin, fighting to survive the next 12 hours.
December 18th, 2005 at 10:23 pm, Granny Says:
What a wonderful post and comments.
All kids are special. All are unique and precious.
The general consensus seems to be Why can’t we let kids be kids? By all means, get them the help they need as I’m doing for my special needs girls, but give them time and space to be children.
The world is full of wonderful things and opportunities for learning that the overly scheduled, stressed out children never have a chance to experience.
Thank you for sharing your story. I found you at Jen-o-rama. She and I are online friends and I recognize some of the other commenters as well.
I’m at rocrebelgranny.blogspot.com any time you feel like visiting.
December 19th, 2005 at 9:34 am, Kara Says:
I’m a teacher and my kid is one of only a handful in her kindergarten class who doesn’t read (much) yet. This whole pushing reading in preschool thing is relitively new. I figure she’ll read when she’s ready. I’m not going to be the one pushing her.
you are amazing, by the way!
December 20th, 2005 at 9:23 am, KatieK Says:
Hi, before I comment, I’m sorry you all are feeling so poorly and hope for a full recovery :). I have a 13 year old daughter who is highly intelligent. There has always been pressure to push, but for me, the important thing has always been that she be “not-neurotic” that she be able to apply her abilities”, so your post struck a chord with me. I consider her to be “differently abled” from other kids. I’ve taught her how to amuse herself with hobbies (crafts, HTML), for example, on my theory that other people aren’t always going to “get” her so she should be able to amuse herself, be self-sufficient in ways other girls don’t seem to be. I enjoy the heck out of her.
December 20th, 2005 at 10:27 am, Susan Says:
Oh, Katie, that’s the most important part, isn’t it? The enjoying it. We get the biggest kick out of Henry (and Charlie, too, but in a very different way). And people are all the time commenting on how funny Henry is, in a good way, because he sees the world so differently from the rest of us, and his color commentary is a riot.
I so appreciate everyone who commented on this piece–I don’t know how so many thoughtful, kind people find their way here, but your comments and conversation always make me feel so greatful.
In other words, you guys ROCK! Yeah!
December 22nd, 2005 at 6:25 am, kyra Says:
hey! it’s so fun over here! i love all the discussion!!!
and oh, how i relate to this wonderful post! fluffy began to teach himself to read when he was closing in on three, he has an enormous vocabulary, does addition, subtraction, some division and multiplication. he remembers data and facts, not so much what he did that day or what his only friend looks like. i didn’t know he had aspergers until about a year ago but i always knew he was smart and used to say, i’d gladly shave off some IQ points for a couple of good night’s sleep since his brain kept going going going, keeping him up up up. i do shake my head about what looks like panic to get little kids to learn when in fact, they are programmed for learning unless they have a neurological disorder. i never understood the academic concern for kids in PRESCHOOL. jeez, these kids are 3 and 4!!! let them play! except of course, for kids like ours, who need help in that very area, how to play, connect, read body language, facial expresions, prosidy, all the MOST IMPORTANT things in life, the “language” of social development.