As Nancy's development continued beyond shape sorting, we began to suspect we had a smart child on our hands. For real. When she was 2 1/2, we were playing with a toy that featured six instruments from the orchestra. It had sliders for each so you could customize the levels and the blend of instruments in various pieces of classical music. Well... MOMMY was playing with the toy... Nancy was busy with something else that I guess I decided in that moment was not enough of a brain-stimulator for my wee genius. So I was trying to direct her attention to this toy. I pointed to an instrument and said, "Nancy, what instrument is this?" (no response) "That's a violin. Nancy, what instrument is this?" (no response) "That's a clarinet. What - " and a little voice interrupted me. "No, Mommy. Dat a oboe."
(silence. Mommy checks the toy closer...) That was indeed an oboe...
When it came time for potty training, being smart and even grasping the concept did not equate to readiness. I was soooo ready - I read all the stuff on the stuff you do and we had a SYSTEM. And I took 2-year old Nancy and showed her the beautiful hand-made potty chart I crafted and said, "Alright. You get one star for sitting on the potty. You get two stars for going peepee on the potty. You get three stars for going poopoo on the potty. And then we'll count up the stars and you'll get treats! Do you understand?" She said, "Get de staw, and get de staw, and get de staw, and get de treat." My eyes bugged out of my head. I grinned ear to ear. "YES! That's right! Can you show Mommy how you sit on the potty?" Nancy said, "No" and turned and walked out of the bathroom.
Speaking of bathrooms... There was February 10, 2012. The day Nancy's smarts saved the day. Literally.
Nancy and I were home together and it was time to get her ready for bed. I really had to go to the bathroom, and we had two bathrooms in the house, so I left Nancy unclothed in her bathroom to use the potty while I ran into mine. I shut the door, went to the bathroom, washed my hands, grabbed the doorknob, and it broke. Locking me in the bathroom. With my 3 1/2 year old naked and unattended in the house. I quickly searched the bathroom and could find nothing to jimmy at the door. I jiggled the handle, stepped away from the door and came back to it like maybe I was just an idiot who couldn't operate a doorknob, but nope. The internal mechanism had broken and I was not getting out of that bathroom. So I called for Nancy. She came to the door and said, "Yes. Mommy?" I said, "Nancy, I need you to listen to me very carefully and do what I say, okay?" "Okay." "Do you see Mommy's phone on the table by the bed?" "Yes." "I need you to get the phone and bring it to the door." Nancy unplugged the phone from the charger, and came back to the door. I asked her to try and slide it under the door. It wouldn't fit... I concentrated very hard on visualizing my smartphone, and how to explain operating it to someone who can't read, and began talking her through various steps. She successfully unlocked the screen, and I got her to a menu where she could see a picture of Daddy and touch the picture to dial him. He didn't answer his phone. Twice. She touched something that made that menu go away, but brought up the keypad. And I talked her through dialing my parent's phone number, one digit at a time. With each number I spoke through the door, I am thinking this is never going to work. And then I hear her talking on the phone. My mom answered the phone but chatted with her for a minute, thinking she had dialed them for fun, and hung up. So I successfully talked her through getting to the call history and she called my folks back. And I quickly told her what to say. And this very calm 3 1/2 year old says to my folks, "We have a emergency. Mommy is stuck in the bathroom." I had assurance they were on the way (luckily living 5-minutes away), and I sunk to the floor and leaned against the door. I kept Nancy next to the door with me by exchanging Knock Knock Jokes with her. She was in a phase of making up her own Knock Knock Jokes, inspired by things around her. "Knock Knock." "Who's there?" "Lamp." "Lamp who?" "Lamp the telephone! bwwwaahhhhhhh!!!" My parents arrived, and broke me out of my bathroom prison with a nail file and my dad's pocket fishing tool. As the door opens, and I hug Nancy, I realize... she's wearing a nightgown. I said, "Did you get that yourself?" glancing at my mom. She said yes, and my mom added, "She was dressed when we came in." Nancy then threw her hands up in the air and said, "I need to get a family picture!" She came back in the room with her kid's digital camera, and said, "Say cheese!"
Almost a year to the day later, I recounted this exchange in a Facebook status: Nancy is learning about animals that migrate as opposed to hibernate, and yesterday, they learned about salmon. Mommy: "Salmon is also very delicious to eat and is good for your brain." Nancy: "I keep remembering in Florida when you were stuck in the bathroom and I call-ded Grandma and Grandpa and save-ded the day." Mommy: "... What made you think of that?" Nancy: (pointing to her head) My fishy brain."
I try not to get ahead of myself and dread things way down the line, like the peer pressure not to be smart, and the likelihood of both an increased penchant for mischief and possession of master negotiating skills. I have plenty to combat in the moment. Like her bent towards bossiness. This past October, at age 4 1/2, we had been living with my folks for a while, and she was very comfortable with that as her home. I heard her taking what I felt was a disrespectful tone with my mom, saying, "NO, Grandma, you're 'posed to..." I said, "No, ma'am. You do not talk to Grandma that way. Please go apologize." She burst into tears, turned to my mom, and said, "I'm sorry Grandma. (pause) It's just that you're wrong..."
So for the time being, we are erring on the side of confidence with her. The world will do plenty to knock her down, so hopefully, if she starts up really high, the knocks won't be as detrimental. I think it is working thus far. Back in January, Nancy had a lengthy conversation with the woman at the JoAnn check-out. As we exited the store, Nancy said, "She liked my name!" I said, "Well, your name IS lovely. She also said you were smart." Nancy replied, "Yes, but EVERYONE says that..."
Love waking up to a new post!! I love the picture because of how it is tilted up as it captures her perspective of the world. I see what she sees...love and pride of those looking at her.
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