Baby Genius?

Aaah, the weekend. That glorious time where I am free from the constraints of the corporate world, out and about to do what I will, when I want, how I please. It's a glorious time. Sure, one might point out that there is always the ever-looming thumb of the "honey do" list, or the inevitably larger crowds at public gatherings and attractions, or worse seats at the movies, but these are minor complaints best reserved for the unemployed.

This weekend, like all the others of late, were focused on doing renovations at the lovely house we are moving into in Chapel Hill at the end of this month. It's been a busy time filled with spackle, caulk, paint, primer, buffers, nailguns, saws, sand paper, dust, and the ever handy hammer. Doing renovations with a baby is not the easiest thing, so we have started alternating between doing odd jobs and playing with Leo. Yesterday afternoon it was finally daddy's (me) turn to take the little boy out to see the world and leave the mess and clutter of the construction zone for a while.

Leo and I went to Kidzu - the local "children's museum". This place should be a mandatory use of retail space in every town. There is plenty to occupy the youngsters of all ages and its broken into appropriate age groups: a soft, cushioned play area for little ones aged 0-2 years, an interactive building block/arts and crafts area for 2-4 year olds, etc... all compete with comfortable accommodations for a parent to catch a quick 5-45 minute cat nap while "watching" the baby play with others.

After the requisite time smashing things together, drooling, pulling every book off of the shelves, crawling a warp speed into a face plant, turning to random pages and squawking while pointing at a beach ball or a smiling frog, and climbing into impossible positions then dangerously falling off of walls yet managing to land on his bottom Leo and I got down to an old fashioned game of catch.

Playing catch is a time honored father and son tradition. Playing catch with a baby is not the same as the Field of Dreams game of catch, but it has its pleasantries. The first time the baby actually stops the ball in motion. The first time the baby is able to attempt to throw or roll the ball back to you. The first time the ball comes anywhere near you after the baby throws it. All milestones in their own right.

And yesterday, we had a HUGE milestone.

Leo stopped the ball I had thrown to him, picked it up, attempted to switch hands but dropped the ball over the edge of the play area where he couldn't reach it. He spent a second or two surmising the situation, then turned to me while looking a proper mixed bag of forlorn and mischievous.......and said "Uh Oh". I froze. The lady sitting next to him turned and smiled. All the other babies bowed. The heavens opened up and golden light rained down upon my precocious genius. Leo. Had. Spoken.



And so it was that my baby boy's first words entered the ether never to be heard again and directed at his loving and oh-so-proud Papa. "Uh oh". What a first word. In fact, 2 words. In fact, a whole damn sentence! A complete and appropriate thought relating to a predicament he found himself in and accurately relaying his situation to me via verbal discourse. Einstein, Hawking, Slebos. Names that will forever ring out, emanating echoes that inspire awe and honor. The greatest minds of our time, or any other? Indeed.

And what a choice of a phrase to use (honestly "uh oh" is more of a phrase than a single word, right?). Kelley and I use "uh oh" for a variety of reasons; a bonk on the head, a fall from standing w/ help to sitting, a disappearing toy, dropped food, and the grand daddy of all "uh oh"s - the dirty diaper. I think we're potentially at the stage where Leo can merely verbally inform me of his diaper's status, eliminating the age old sniff test, or worse, the often jarring look test. Yes, I expect that tomorrow morning Leo will just say, "Papa, I appear to have soiled my diaper, could you change me?"...or something like that.

I guess my favorite part of all this, is that my child is officially better than yours. If you are reading this, then you are one of about 9 people that check this site. And if you are one of the 3 of them with kids, then MY KID IS SMARTER THAN YOURS!!! That's right Mark, Miranda, and Brook, your kids are wearing dunce caps in the classroom of Leo's peers!



Leo speaks.... and guess what? Beatrice doesn't. Tyler doesn't. Have either of them ever said "uh oh"? No, no they haven't. Cute kids, but they don't talk. I can hear it now, "but Bea is only a few months old". Save it. "Tyler hasn't even started crawling". So what? Every parent knows this undeniable truth: either your kid brings it or they don't. My kid brings it!

Note: the last part is intended to be humorous. I love both of your kids. Despite their being a little "behind".