Baby Bragging

Ben knows over 100 words. He has started stringing two and three words together, such as "Bye-bye, Daddy" and "fall down" and "more juice." When I picked him up from the church nursery this morning, the attendant told me he had been reciting colors for most of the hour. He can fill in a lot of the rhyming words from Hippos Go Beserk, and he has been learning some numbers and colors. His pediatricians have commented on his strong language skills.

Am I bragging? If so, what does it mean?

The non-parent readers of my blog are probably suppressing yawns; who cares if my kid knows his colors by 17 months as opposed to three years? Don't most kids learn their numbers, letters, and colors sooner or later?

But it's a touchy subject with fellow mothers. Obviously, children develop at different rates. So that means, given a group of 17-month-olds, some will be barely walking, while others will be spinning in circles and running backwards. Some will be mostly pointing and gesturing, while others will be chattering away. It's hard not to compare your kid to the others in a playgroup, even as you remind yourself that nearly all children become proficient walkers and talkers.

Underlying some of this anxiety about children's development are two assumptions:

1. Advanced babies become advanced children and then successful adults.
2. If a baby is advanced in one area, it's thanks to the parents. Likewise, if a baby is behind in an area, it's the parents' fault.

I don't know that either assumption is true. My mother-in-law is fond of pointing out that my husband walked at 9 months, but that doesn't mean he grew up to be especially coordinated. In fact, I'd label him a "normal" walker.

As far as the second assumption, can I claim credit for Ben's achievements? Tom and I have provided Ben with a language-rich environment from birth, but it's hardly simple cause and effect. I know other parents who have done the same, only to have their children talk later. To a large extent, I believe Ben's personality and preferences are simply unfolding, and our job is to guide him. We give him alphabet magnets because he is interested in letters, but we also encourage him to climb up on the couch because he finds climbing difficult.

I want to be able to celebrate his accomplishments. I delight in Ben's strengths, just as I worry about his weaknesses. When Ben is tired and frustrated, Tom or I will tell him, "It's hard work being a baby." We mean it. Baby humans take a long time to mature and develop. They slowly gain control over their bodies. They begin to use words to communicate. At some point (we hope) they even become capable of abstract thought and cleaning up after themselves. I believe we can celebrate a child's accomplishments even if those accomplishments aren't advanced or unique. I still remember going out for ice cream when I was four and had just learned to tie my shoes. There are lots of milestones kids can be proud of, and parents can be proud right along with them.

At the same time, though, I worry about even using words like "achievement" and "accomplishment"--I think because there's a dark side of me that wants Ben to be smarter and more advanced than the other babies. I'm trying to suppress that side. I don't want the language of achievement and work in his life too soon. I don't want to become one of those parents who define themselves by what awards their kids win and where Junior goes to college.

At the point his his life, Ben plays and explores. He is interested in the world around him, and I don't want to frustrate him by pushing him too hard, or discourage him by taking ownership of what he does. But I want him to know I'm proud of him. I want him to believe in himself. This is a balance that I'll probably strive for as long as I'm a mother.

Most of all, when I think of what I want for Ben, I want him to be healthy and happy. I want him to find his place in the world, through both relationships and a career. I would like him to grow up to be kind. I want him to be able to deal with the ups and downs of life. When I use those general desires to guide my daily parenting, I feel less anxiety and more confidence. Will the fact that he knows a lot of words at 17 months have much of an impact on his adult life? Probably not. But he just might remember how much his parents loved him and encouraged him.