I was reminded last weekend that, when Connor was very small, I had very real concerns that he might be . . . well, slow. Other babies smiled and gurgled when you played Peek-a-Boo with them; Connor just treated you to a blank stare. Knowing my oldest son as well as I do now, I realize that he was probably thinking, “Ummmkay, you’re putting your hands over your face and then you’re moving them again. Are you developing a nervous tic? Or is this supposed to be a game? Because, ummm, yeaaaaaaah, I know that you’re still there when you have your hands over your face.” (Yes, in my head, I hear my oldest-child-when-he-was-a-baby speaking with Lumbergh's voice from "Office Space." For your information, our oldest cat is credited with having Cartman's voice from "South Park." But I digress.) Long story short, he’s basically a genius, and my husband and others think it’s hysterical that I was worried that he might not cut the mental mustard.
P also enjoys reminding me that, during Parker’s first two years of life, I was frequently heard to express my fears that he might never develop a personality. He was just so quiet, always sitting there and soaking it in. Now, it’s apparent that he was just biding his time and figuring out his strategy for world personality and popularity domination. Today, he is the life of the party – imitating voices, acting out characters, telling jokes at the top of his lungs, dancing and singing . . . in other words, Parker is ALL about personality.
So, I’m zero for two – but generally happy to have been wrong on both counts. AND I see the possibility for turning this into a revenue-generator. Thus, I am officially offering my services as “Baby Disser.” You tell me your worst fears about your infant’s future, and for a small fee I will put those fears to bed for you, once and for all:
“Wow, your baby does not seem musically gifted in the least. Her gurgling is off-tune, and her clapping is totally off-beat. You definitely have a tone-deaf, rhythm-challenged kid on your hands.”
“Did you SEE Junior throw that ball? That kid has no arm on him, AT ALL. Definitely not athletically gifted. Might as well sign him up for Chess Club now.”
Connor informs me that my mad baby dissing skills do not extend beyond our family unit. He claims that both he and his brother willed themselves to be the opposite of what I thought that they might turn out to be, simply to prove me wrong. Knowing my children as well as I do now, I would not write off the possibility.