What's the learning rush?

There is so much hype these days to have a “gifted” child. A fast, advanced, talented child. Take your pick.

But honestly, I don’t get it.

I have one child that totally fits into that category. She’s always been well ahead of her peers. She was walking at 10.5 months old, had at least 30 solid words by the time she turned one year. She knew her ABC’s and spoke in sentences, as well as climbed the “big slide” at the playground and could go down on her own long before she turned 18 months. She potty trained herself before her second birthday. At not quite 2.5 years old she knows her letters and their sounds, she’s started putting letters together to make words. She can do simple math.

Everyone has always told me how “fast” she is. Heck, she was holding her own neck up at birth. For real.

What no one ever bothered to tell me is that being “fast” is normal, too. Ask anyone you know, they know at least one, but probably many, “advanced” kids. It’s just as normal as being “average.” It’s not really a big deal.

Except that it is. To a lot of people anyway. There seems to be this overwhelming need for many people that their child(ren) be first. The first to walk and speak and tie their shoes. The first to know their colors and shapes and letters.

But why? Does it even matter?

No.

At least I don’t think so.

I have one perfectly “average” child. He babbles a ton, actually only says “Mama”, “hi”, “muh [more]” and “aaaah duh! [all done!]”. And none of that is consistent. He’s a year old. Unlike his sister at this age, he doesn’t know the toilet is anything other than a big bucket that is fun to throw things into. Though he sometimes tries to repeat the animal sounds I make, I certainly cannot say “vaca” to him and have him make a “moo” sound without prompting, as I could his sister.

He likes to eat the woodchips on the playground. He is not typically interested in sitting with me and reading books, though he will occasionally let his big sister “read” to him. He will scribble on paper for just a minute or two before deciding that it is way more fun to eat the crayons.

As I said. He’s normal. He’s “average.” He’s perfect.

Do I ever wish he were more like his sister?

Yes.

Sometimes.

Not because I want him to be as fast or whatever, but because it is more difficult sometimes to know what he wants due to his limited communication skills. Other than that though, I don’t care if he takes his sweet time.

He doesn’t have to know his colors in the near future. I don’t care if he doesn’t sing his alphabet before his second birthday. I don’t even care if he doesn’t realize a toilet is for peeing in before his third birthday.

Because at the end of the day, he’s just as intelligent as his sister, without a doubt. He’s just at his own pace.

Miss H is fast. That’s her pace. I never forced her to learn any of the stuff she knows; she just wanted to. She’s a sponge. For awhile I was a bit caught up in the idea that she needed something better to help her little brain. Better teachers at a good school. Until I realized who in the world could ever be better than her parents? We’ve gotten her this far, surely we know her best and can teach her best.

Would she learn even more and likely even faster in an academic setting where all she does is learn?

Sure. I bet she would.

But she’s 2.5. She’s a toddler. A baby almost. She has the right to be a child. She has her entire life to learn. But she has such a short time to be a child. And of course, she’s still learning anyway. It’s not like that gets turned off if you’re not in a school.

There’s no need to rush learning. Every day is a learning experience. We simply cannot help but learn.

Baby B is taking things at his own stride. He’s marching to his own drum. That’s really a fiddle. And that’s okay.

Because I guarantee that when they’re 10 and 11, they’ll both be able to read and write. They’ll be able to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. They’ll know all about the science behind volcanoes and clouds. They’ll know about animal habitats. They’ll know geography. And it won’t matter if they learned it all at 3 or 6 or 9.

So for me, there is no reason to push it.

Of course, I will encourage them to learn every day by all the things we do. And I will always help them if they want to learn. Miss H is really determined to “read the words, Momma.” So I’m doing my best to help her learn to read. But only because she wants to.

I think it’s important that kids be kids. That they do things in their own time. That they have lots of unstructured time.

And who cares if baby Joe can multiply at 3? When he’s 8, he’ll still know how to multiply, and so will all of his peers. So really, does it matter?

Maybe.

But not to me.

So does that mean I’m not proud when my 29-month-old can sound out the word “bat”? Of course not! But I wouldn’t be any less proud if she didn’t do it until she was 6 either.