Great Expectations

A friend of my grandmother's has a granddaughter approximately Otter's age.  While she was always sweetly interested in Otter's progress and development, it was simultaneously a forum for her to draw comparisons between the two babies.  To hear her, the girl was something just shy of a genius.  At 4 months, when Otter was just starting to make the first hints of noises, Little Einstein was pointing out her head, hands, toes and all body parts in between on command.  My family lapped up these tales with wide-eyed amazement, and when I called BS on the whole scenario, I was reprimanded for my lack of faith in LE's super-human intellect.  

More recently, another babied co-worker and I were discussing our respective offspring.  Not surprisingly his son, who is 2 months younger that SB, also displays all the qualities of a savant. While Otter babbles incoherently, mixing her ma's, ba's, da's and a-goo-ah's in no particular order, 6-month-old baby linguist apparently says "Dada" with appropriate meaning, and even something that sounds suspiciously like "I want my mama."  Yeah, OK.

All of this led me to wonder, why must we project mythical skills on our newborns?  Why can't we be satisfied with our babies' actual milestones?  For me, the fact that Otter babbles wildly and meaninglessly is fascinating.  I am amazed at how good she's gotten at putting herself to sleep.  And that she can now grab the bottle and feed herself.  I don't need evidence of higher mathematical abilities or hints that she might be a musical prodigy.  I'm excited that she's almost (although not quite) crawling.  Aren't these achievements enough for a creature that a mere 6 months ago could do nothing but lie around like a large radish?

Yet I seem to be alone in satisfaction.  Articles abound about children so over-activitied that they require their own planners to keep track of it all.  Turn on the TV and I learn that with the proper kit (for 3 easy payments of $19.99 plus S&H Charges) I can teach Otter sign language, reading and theoretical physics.  Is it me or is our over-scheduled society not only robbing her of a childhood, but a babyhood as well?

Of course only time will tell if I'm right.  Perhaps when my friends' French-signing-astrophysicist-cellists are applying to Harvard at age 5, while Otter is learning not to eat paste, the last laugh will be on me.