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October 6, 2005 My New Predicament 
This is the kind of predicament I love to have, that every mother dreams of being in. My predicament is: I need to stop thinking of Frances as "a little behind," and start thinking of her as "a little ahead." It never occurred to me, before Frances was born, that a child of mine would even be “a little behind.” I wasn’t. Erik wasn’t. So why would our child be? Maybe average. Maybe even late-average. But late? Naaaaaah. So when Frances seemed stubbornly disinclined to learn how to drink from a bottle, crawl, walk, stand, or achieve any number of other gross motor milestones, this was a big adjustment. I would spend the timespan of the “normal” period for achieving such milestones in a state of enforced patience. “That’s ok,” I’d tell myself, “She’s got time.” And then, as the deadline approached, I would become increasingly concerned. Why won’t she sit? Why won’t she crawl? Why doesn’t she want to walk? Is something wrong? Am I doing something wrong? Should I be worried? Should I not be worried? Crawling was the hardest—I watched her first birthday looming over us on the calendar with the mantra of a hundred parenting books chanting through my head: “It doesn’t matter how they get mobile, but they should be mobile by their first birthday.” I listened to the crappy assvice about how to “make” your baby crawl: I placed her on her belly for a given number of minutes per day with toys she liked just out of reach. That stubborn babe of mine would see the toys but, unconcerned, simply roll over to her back kicking her joyous little feet in the air and with a happy smile entice me to tickle her. I was having none of it. I’d fret, I’d cry, I’d try again and again and again, just frustrating myself over and over while Frances thought this “how fast can I roll to my back” game was marvelous. I’d get angry, unreasonably: “Don’t you know that if you’re not moving in three weeks the doctors are going to think there’s something wrong with you?” I’d plead. “Come on. Here’s a fun toy. Come get it!” Nothing doing. What made it even more of a challenge was the preponderance of mommy friends I had with babies who were early for everything. Who crawled at six months, walked at nine or ten, climbed at a year, and were playing professional football by fifteen months. You know you’re not supposed to compare, but you do: Is everyone else’s baby that much smarter than mine? Am I not doing something that they’re doing? And especially when there are potential existing health problems: Is this part of whatever undiagnosed growth thing that’s going on? Is she developmentally delayed? Adjusting to Frances being “slow” for her milestones was hard, hard, hard. By the time she was seventeen months old or so I was finally able to joke about it: “She’s read the books and she knows she has until she’s eighteen months adjusted to walk,” I’d say. “And she’s decided she’s going to take every second of it.” I spent a year telling myself to be patient, to give her time, to be relaxed, not to push the milestones, to accept her regardless of who she is and where her strengths lie, that she doesn’t have to be smart or accomplished in order to have a fabulous life, that I shouldn’t visit my expectations on her. And now I find I need to shake myself out of it and get used to having a baby who’s ahead. At 21 months old, 20 adjusted, she’s speaking in sentences and we’re having actual conversations. OK, it’s not Descartes, but it is a give-and-take speech pattern. She knows all her colours, including teal and grey and pink, and all her shapes (circles, squares, triangles, hearts, diamonds, and so on), and she’s stacking blocks into towers taller than she is, and doing up her buckles on the stroller and the booster seat, and she can count her fingers and toes (who cares if sometimes she has three toes and seven fingers?), and she knows all the words in her First Words book for preschoolers, and she’s starting to point at her alphabet blocks and say “letter A!” and “number 8!” She says “please” and “thank you” with minimal prompting. She knows the names of her favourite books and when she picks them off the shelf, will exclaim them over and over while toddling to my lap for a read (Fuzzy Fuzzy Fuzzy, Pat the Bunny, Splish Splash and other tactile books are her current favourites). She knows the names of her favourite TV shows and will excitedly proclaim them when it’s time for them to come on (Little Bear and, blech, FRANKLIN. I hate that show). She will tell us what they’re doing on TV (sleeptime for Little Bear! Snacktime for Franklin!). If I ask her to fly, she will flap her little arms like wings, and yesterday when I said she was a social butterfly, she repeated “butterfly” over and over while zipping around the deck with her arms flapping. She isn’t even behind on motor skills anymore—once she learned to walk, she went straight to running and tiptoeing and throwing and kicking her nerf basketball. She still can’t climb stairs properly, but with legs her size it’s going to be at least a year and probably more. Every day Erik comes home with some fresh tale about another preschooler parent who was watching Frances do something in the toddler room that their preschooler can’t do yet. I won’t lie: I like this. I like it a lot. It’s such a happy, glowy feeling to see her doing so well on so many things, to see her learning so much and exploring her world with such gusto. But still, I’m not used to it. It was only two months ago that Frances was “behind”—and I wonder how I navigate in this brave and exciting new world. Because even if she is a little learning machine right now, I still don’t want to visit my expectations on her or put her under pressure and take all the joy out of what she’s learning. Childhood isn’t, or shouldn’t be, a race to the Alphabet finish line. But on the other hand, I was reading at three; and reading has been nothing but a source of joy and pleasure for me; I don’t want not to give her opportunities that she can handle and would enjoy. I’m looking forward to finding a resolution to this predicament. Posted by Andrea at October 6, 2005 8:53 AM under Beanie Baby Brags EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments I think the biggest thing is making sure she doesn't get bored at school etc. when she is so far ahead of the other kids in her grade! We're thinking Cael will have the same "problem"...and Frances is way ahead of him! Posted by: Tanya at October 6, 2005 9:12 AM
I haven't even started thinking about school yet. *shock* Is it too much to hope that the programmes will have improved by then? Posted by: Andrea at October 6, 2005 9:25 AM
As long as she keeps up the love for reading, I think she can go FAAAAR. When I was in second grade, my teacher noticed that I loved reading - so when I would finish my work ahead of everyone else, I'd be given a chance to read a book from her bookshelf instead of getting bored by the lack of stimulus. She really has taken off! I cannot believe even the daily descriptions of how good she's doing! Posted by: rachel at October 6, 2005 9:26 AM
Not that I have any expertise in this area yet, but I imagine it takes a lot of parental supplementation to the standard curriculum to keep bright kids engaged. Somehow, I don't see this as a particularly onerus burden for you - or me, for that matter! I am looking forward to the day when I can say, "Frances the world-famous physicist/nobel laureate/ beloved author of 1000 books? Yes, I 'knew' her when she was a baby!" Posted by: Danigirl at October 6, 2005 10:31 AM
What Danigirl said! I'm an unofficial auntie to the little baby genius! Posted by: yankee transplant at October 6, 2005 11:41 AM
You know, I think I almost welcome it when my kids are a little slow on some milestones. It makes me feel like they will be less a target for envy for all the things that they're unusually advanced at (verbal skills and music). Silly, really. You're going to have to change Frances's name to World's Best Genius Ever, Bar None! Posted by: Phantom Scribbler at October 6, 2005 1:26 PM
As a homeschooler, I can just say that I generally follow the philosophy of the child leading (unschooling, really). So, I guess Frances is just herself. And any enriching environment you provide will make her flourish. Don't worry, she'll let you catch up to her. I think I heard she applied for college already. She's amazing. I'm really happy for you and cyber-proud of all that Frances has done. This is a great "predicament". Posted by: Running2Ks at October 6, 2005 1:41 PM
Congratulations Frances! What fun for you, Andrea, enjoy it! My first child acheived the milestones right on schedule, and a little ahead. But my second--oh she's taking her sweet time. It's so strange to me to think that she is only speaking about 20 words at almost 16 months, when her brother had easily 100-150 then. Oh, and she's not walking yet, either. But you know what? It doesn't really matter. She will get there when she gets there and she is perfect in my eyes. And I don't really believe that being slow in milestones is a good predictor of intelligence, or future success, or anything. I mean, look at Frances! Posted by: Amy at October 6, 2005 4:07 PM
Frances is brilliant, clearly. I want to tell my friend about this who is panicked that her child didn't crawl until 14 months and hasn't shown any interest in walking. He also doesn't like to eat solid food although he chows on yogurt and purees veggies with gusto. Every child is different, I suppose. What a little speed demon! I wish I could meet Frances in person, though! Posted by: halloweenlover at October 6, 2005 4:52 PM
How wonderful Frances! Cute, smart, inquisitive...she's the whole package! Andrea, I suspect Danigirl is right. Keeping Frances interested in learning will be largely up to you and Erik. Teachers do their best with bright students, to their credit, but a lot of it will be the extra reading and challenging that happens at home. That's ok too, at least you will always know how she's doing. Our youngest (brag, brag, brag...) is in his third year of university and we're still waiting for something in school to present a challenge to him. His teachers were great about giving him extra work, but it still didn't really challenge him. Come to think of it, he's in his third year of university, and he still hasn't really been pushed academically. Posted by: Sue at October 6, 2005 7:01 PM
Oh my -- the editing fairy was sleeping in that last comment. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Posted by: Sue at October 6, 2005 7:03 PM
Amy--you're right. In one book I read the correlation was only 20% (which is to say, no correlation). :D to everyone else. Frances loves you all! Posted by: Andrea at October 6, 2005 7:47 PM
Tough predicament is right - how dare your little genius-headed-to-Harvard put you in such a state. At least you can hold that over her for years to come...pride...not hard to hold on to as a parent!! Good job Mom!! Posted by: nancy at October 6, 2005 10:28 PM
I would imagine one of the hardest things about having a baby with some mysterious growth problem -- maybe -- is that you don't know what to ascribe to the problem and what to her personality. With babies all you can see is the gross motor stuff. Now that Frances is older you are starting to see where her talents lie! Posted by: Jennifer at October 8, 2005 12:08 AM
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Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "The greatest religious problem today is how to be both a mystic and a militant; in other words how to combine the search for an expansion of inner awareness with effective social action, and how to feel one's true identity in both." Ursula le Guin Email Frances! frances AT athenadreaming DOT org You can email her mother too (that's me):
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