Parental Bias and My Inability to Guess a Child's Age

It is inevitable, I suppose, that every parent will at some time or another brag about his kid. I'm sure I've been guilty of it in these very pages. If I'm being honest, the very essence of this blog is about showing off my kid, and what is that, if not bragging? Be that as it may, I'm perhaps hyper aware of the fact that all parents think their kids are the best, and while I'm no different, I don't want to heap praise on LG undeservedly (which is probably super annoying to people who aren't my wife). As best as I can, I try to stick to the facts.

Do I think she's cool? You betcha. Is she a lot of fun these days? Absolutely. Is she smart, dextrous, athletic? Yes? Maybe? Good for her age? The truth is this: I have no idea. I just think it's cool to see what she's capable of.

Like ruining a perfectly good funny face picture by being so stinkin' cute.

It's really hard, especially with your first kid, I think, to be entirely sure whether or not they are smart or physically adept. You can read milestone charts, and be impressed with her progress. You can tell the pediatrician all about the wonderful things your kid can do, and wait for (and receive) the practiced smile and nod of approval. But spend one afternoon at a playground watching a bunch of other kids run, tumble, climb and shout; I guarantee you'll have no idea whether your kid's progress is normal or not.

By way of example, we went to the park yesterday. And she stunned me by leaving behind the relatively short play equipment we typically climb, and doing her level best to give me a heart attack by seeking out the tallest, least-guardrail-adorned structure on the playground. I am, of course, both excited for and terrified by her rapidly increasing ability to climb. And while she's doing just fine, she's still climbing steps on her hands and knees, not using ladders or monkey bars. So imagine my confusion when two children--who don't look much older than LG--come over and practically leap up the side of a ladder, blast past my daughter and vault down the twisty slide.

Wait a minute. Here I am, impressed with my kid's physical prowess, and she's summarily shamed by these tiny dervishes. Their caretaker casually walks up and asks LG's age. "About 20 months," I sheepishly reply. "And yours?" I'm silently dreading the answer, because I don't want to know just how far behind my kid is, as she struggles up the last step before the slide. Am I too cautious? Does she need more free rein, less hand-holding? Please, ma'am, what can I do to make my child less physically awkward?

Her answer? "They'll be 3 in September."

This revelation not only relieves any remaining concerns I have about LG's athleticism, but immediately throws my fatherly pride into overdrive. These kids are a full year older than her, and look how well she's doing now! In another year, she'll be turning somersaults up the side of the play tower and performing a back handspring off the ledge.

Clearly, I have problems with expectations versus reality.

Yeah... we have a long way to go before back handsprings.

Also, while I didn't think 75th percentile for height meant she was that tall, it clearly means she's bigger than I realize. No way I'd have guessed those kids were a year older than her.

To be fair, I am perhaps overly concerned with issues of physical development. I was a gangly kid, and I sucked at sports. It's not that I want her to be good at sports (and honestly, I don't really care if she plays any), but I'd like her to not be a total spaz like her dad.

And as for mental acuity, that might even be more difficult to assess comparitively. Again, I think she's doing well. She loves books. I mean really, really loves books. She's already memorized a few of her shorter books, and will say the words as you turn the page. She sometimes does this frighteningly quickly. I have no idea when that sort of thing is supposed to start.

She talks a lot. She sings a few songs. And of course, she only does this when it's just me or Hollie around. Unlike the physical stuff, I have no way of comparing her development with other kids. And even if she didn't clam up around other people, it's not like there's a park where you take your kids and you all read and sing together. (Actually, I guess that's the library.)

But occasionally, I'll get lucky, and we'll get something on video. And even though I don't have any idea whether other 20-month-old kids can do what I'm about to show you, I still think it's pretty darn impressive. Adjust your language receptors to toddler, and I think you'll agree.

See? How many kids under 2 know the alphabet that well?

If you know the answer, please don't tell me. For now, I prefer to think my kid is a genius. I'm not bragging, just stating the facts.