Singer-songwriter Jessica Harper has a song called "My Baby is a
Genius." In it, she playfully boasts about her child's brilliant
observations and talents. "Move over Einstein, his genius is
genu-wine," Harper croons.
I have two geniuses who live with me. As I say that, I wonder if it's
OK to show delight in my sons' successes. There are some parents you
want to smack when they prattle on about their children's grades or
achievement scores. And I have felt uncomfortable sharing the results
of Benjamin's report cards because I don't want to seem like I'm
bragging. So I will walk that line between sheer happiness and utter
bragging by saying that, while my wife and I take credit for laying the
foundation, there are many factors at work in the playgrounds of our
sons' brains.
It's not just that our children are smart -- they love learning. They
suck it up like the last slurps of rainbow sherbet in the ice-cream
bowl. For this, their teachers deserve medals for turning our sometimes
attention-challenged kids into knowledge junkies.
Case in point: After his last day of kindergarten, Benjamin asked, "Can
I do a few more pages in my math workbook?" My first reaction was, "Who
is this nerd? What kind of kid comes home on the first day of summer
vacation and wants to do homework?"
Then I saw him figuring out equations I didn't bother with till I was
nine. He kept going for 45 minutes, counting on his fingers and marking
numbers with surprising precision. It dawned on me that, to Benjamin,
this was one thing you did on summer vacation. This was fun to him.
Rather than flash forward to a kid walking the high-school halls
wearing a pocket protector when he should be playing baseball, I said
to my wife, "Let's send Mrs. Renetzky a bigger gift."
Whereas he used to clam up about what he did in school, he couldn't
wait to discuss the "Zero the Hero" and "star word" lessons he learned
from Mrs. Renetzky. When I complained that he would tantrum when we'd
ask him to practice his reading, she worked with him until, one day,
she said, "Have you heard this kid read?" That night, Benjamin read
more words in A Bug, a Bear, and a Bed than I thought possible. Where
we had trouble leading him, his teacher showed him a path that seemed
like the road to a carnival.
Aside from Mrs. Renetzky, he had instructors who taught him language
and cultural studies, dance, music, and science. Benjamin now wants
everything explained and pontificates on all he knows. Sometimes I'm
uninterested in the details of earthworm development, but who am I to
stop this brainy freight train from chugging?
Speaking of runaway trains, there is Jacob. Only two, his job of
keeping up with his older brother is made easier by the women of his
daycare. Sarah and her co-teacher, Efrat, show Jacob how to sing,
create art, turn somersaults, and make friends. They also applaud his
mental sharpness. "Your son never lets me forget anything," Sarah
recently said. "If I mention our schedule earlier in the day, Jacob
reminds me: 'First snack, then songs, and now a game."
Of course, Wendy and I do warrant some share in their glory. After all,
we let them watch television. As a result, Benjamin talked everyone's
ear off at the zoo the other day. How did he know so much? "Stanley,"
he said matter-of-factly about the TV program in which a little boy
learns about the animal kingdom from the "Great Big Book of
Everything." After Benjamin rattled off facts on snakes and monitor
lizards, his friend David finally said, "I've heard enough, Benjamin!"
It's clear that the nerd in my child has no idea that his enthusiasm
for information isn't always entertaining conversation. But, I have to
admire his ability to use what he learns.
Of all their influences, there may be no nothing greater than the
effect they have on each other. Benjamin models such studiousness that
Jacob begs for his own pencil to scribble as his brother writes numbers
and words. While Benjamin looks over a book, Jacob will dump out half
his bookshelf for us to read. Jacob even inspires his brother to read
to him, thereby advancing Benjamin's new skills. Also, to help his
brother start his own piggy bank, Benjamin now adds up the coins to
balance out their take of the house's loose change (which involves me
emptying my pockets at the end of the day and one of the kids snatching
up the money like Swiper the fox).
As Benjamin heads off to first grade and Jacob to preschool, I'm
prepared to drink deeply from the well of their love of learning. I
know that, with the help of their teachers and their own drive, they
will push their little minds toward greater heights. And I expect
they'll have me singing their intellectual praises for decades to come,
whether anyone wants to hear them or not.
Gregory Keer is a syndicated columnist,
teacher, and on-air expert on fatherhood. His Family Man ™ column
appears in publications across the country, including L.A. Parent,
Boston Parents' Paper, Bay Area Parent, Long Island Parenting News,
Metro Augusta Parent, and Sydney's Child in Australia. Keer's
concurrent column, Today's Family Man, runs on Web sites including
ParentingBookmark.com, SheKnows.com, GardenandHearth.com, and
KeepKidsHealthy.com. He also writes for Parenting magazine, the
Parents' Choice Foundation, JustForMom.com and Parenthood.com. On
television, Keer has appeared on morning shows and cable specials. He
is the father of three and husband to Wendy, a professor in
child-development. You can read more of Gregs articles at Family Man Online.
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