Zany Mama Hypothesis 2: Zane = Brilliant

I am not typically one to use this blog as a forum to express how magnificently beautiful, talented, and smart my child is. I typically find that it’s more entertaining to read – and write – about my ineptness as a parent and how Zane somehow survives my and SRH’s bungled attempts to help him grow into a productive human being. Since I rarely just gush about my child, I hope you will indulge me as I give two pieces of evidence of the Zane’s sheer brilliance.

Exhibit A

My child knows the alphabet! I’m not kidding; he knows all the letters of the alphabet – and not just by singing that annoying little song, either.

(By the way, did you realize that the alphabet song is the same tune as Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Ba Ba Blacksheep? While I appreciate that those songs all have a tune that I can sing, I have been known to – in a fit of not-sleeping desperation – sing that tune to Zane for hours straight. Bad memories, there).

Anyway, last night we were looking at The Alternate Alphabet, and Zane just started saying all the letters as I pointed to them. He was so completely pleased with himself, it was just delightful. I was just so completely shocked. Much like the whole polite thing which blindsided me, I didn’t expect him to be able to identify all the letters in the alphabet before the age of 3. Okay fine, I know he turns three in just a few weeks, but still…

My Smart Alphabet-Saying Child

Exhibit B

This particular piece of evidence doesn’t make me feel all warm and gooey inside. It actually more makes me feel sad and a little guilty, but I will share it because Zane deserves the world to recognize his brilliance.

Yesterday, we were planning to visit the fire station with some friends. I really thought Zane would like it as he seems to be moderately into fire trucks, dump trucks, and any other vehicle with “truck” in the title. As I was telling Zane what we were about to do, Zane kept saying No Fire Truck, Mama. No Fire Truck.

I explained that we were just going to see the fire trucks for a few minutes, and then we’d go play at the park. He seemed okay with this, but then he started saying, No Fire Truck, Mama. No Doctor.

He had to say this about 5 times before I finally got it: The last time we had “seen” a fire truck, Zane was being taken to the emergency room from the doctor’s office for his asthma. Apparently, when the doctor’s office called 911 to transport us to the hospital, communication wasn’t clear, and 6 EMTs showed up with both an ambulance and a fire truck.

Needless to say, the asthmatic episode itself was scary enough – it’s never easy to see your child grunt with effort for every breath – but the overwhelming amount of men in blue uniforms trying to help him breathe and the resulting squad trip to the hospital was no picnic either.

Although it was over six months ago – which is a long time in a little boy’s life, Zane remembered, and he was clear that he wasn’t doing THAT again. I suppose one could argue that rather than intelligence, this is actually evidence of the clarity of traumatic memory, but I’m sticking with the opinion that it is evidence of his ability to make connections between seemingly unrelated events, which is a higher level thought process, to be sure.

Zane, when he’s not scared to death of big men trying to help him breathe

Of course, there are many more examples I could give of Zane’s intellectual prowess, but I’ll save the stories of Zane’s uncanny imitation of a homing pigeon in another post. Plus, I figure that his inherent fabulousness will just come through in any and all of my words, so I won’t bore you with more details.

My only point is that this child must be nearing genius status. I just hope he doesn’t go all weird on us. You know the way that some staggeringly smart people just can’t function socially? I hope this doesn’t happen to Zane, but I’m afraid, with these flashes of intellect, that might be where we are headed.