The Perfect Baby Handbook » Giftedness

Why your baby will grow up to be a Scary Information Glutton

dale — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 03:59:53 +0000

Everyone loves a clairvoyant. Especially when she predicts the future with as much bluster and certainty as Penelope Trunk, who pens a syndicated business column called the “Brazen Careerist”—and focuses her forecasting on one’s own beloved child.

DECISIVE: "Hi Mommy, you're fired."

Trunk’s most recent projection, “What Generation Z will be like at work,” is irresistible. In a nutshell, it seems that your baby is going to grow up to terrify all of his or her older coworkers. Your child won’t be a team player, he’ll process information at “lightning speed,” and he’ll be busy swallowing “neuro-enhancers” (the successors to ADHD medication) that render him even more freakishly intelligent than you’d hoped.

Of course, Trunk’s take is a bit more nuanced than that, and stuffed with highly tempting, occasionally tangential links. For example:

For those of you who doubt the power of naming, check this out: If your name begins with a K you will strike out more often in baseball. If your name begins with a letter toward the end of the alphabet you could be economically penalized.

Don’t you want to know how an X name will lead to economic penalty? I did!

Until I discovered that the explanation is overly wonky and heavy on unzippy terms like “alphabetical discrimination.” That said, I did learn that children whose full names reduce down to “negative initials,” such as P.I.G. and B.U.M. are “especially likely to die from psychological causes, such as suicides and self-inflicted accidents.” Fun fact!

Why insanely costly private schools could (but don’t) charge even more

dale — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 03:47:46 +0000

FUNNY HA-HA: Fieldstone grads

In the middle of the most recessive recession in decades, you’d think attendance at private schools might dip a bit. Nope, reports the Economist in a semi-horrifying story that makes you want to drown someone. In fact, even more parents are scrambling for the right to pay surreal, bankruptcy-inducing amounts:

Compared with last year, applications are up 14%,” says Mark Stanek, the principal of Ethical Culture Fieldston, a private school in New York. All through the application season he and his board of governors had been on tenterhooks, waiting to see if financial turmoil would cut the number of parents prepared to pay $32,000-34,000 a year to educate a child…

How unnerving for the board of governors! Those tenterhooks can really hurt. Overall, the Economist finds “little sign of a meltdown in private schooling” in America, while finding a nice smattering of signs that such schools will raise fees by 2-to-4 percent this fall. Two theories: 1) Parents fear the recession will further shit-ify public schools; 2) They assume that application rates at the snoot-schools (which are really selling college-placement guarantees) will be down, increasing their kid’s chances.

After amassing proof that these institutions could get away with charging way more (in much the same way that Rosemary’s Baby’s heroine amasses evidence that her husband’s in league with Satan), the report offers a nice reality check:

So why aren’t fees even higher? [The likely explanation] is that schools’ quality would decline if they simply sold places to the highest bidders. Part of what they offer is the chance to learn with clever classmates, and if fees were too high the pool of brainy potential pupils would become too shallow.

Whew! That was close.

“The Best Kids’ Books Ever”—as chosen, in a willy-nilly manner, by Nicholas D. Kristof

dale — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 03:59:13 +0000

I.Q. PROTECTION: Buy now!

Want to scare parents? Claim that their children’s brains start disintegrating every July, unless the kids are pried away from computers, televisions—and (presumably) diving boards and climb-able trees—and forced to read the 13 children’s books that New York Times’ op-ed columnist, Nicholas D. Kristof, vaguely remembers from his boyhood, or has read to his own kids. He’s horrified by this inevitable cerebral rot:

I was aghast to learn that American children drop in I.Q. each summer vacation — because they aren’t in school or exercising their brains.

Unsurprisingly, his totally unmethodical list, titled “The Best Kids’ Books Ever,” currently tops the “most emailed” story ranking on the Times’ website, as in “Oh my god, Gerald, our offspring’s brains are in jeopardy. Please pick up all 397 titles in the Hardy Boys series—including the graphic novels Abracadeath and Dude Ranch O’ Death! on your way home from the office.”

Yes, bizarrely, lazily, Kristof feels the Hardy Boys belong in the pantheon of children’s literature*:

Yes, I hear the snickers. But I devoured them myself and have known so many kids for whom these were the books that got them excited about reading. The first in the series is weak, but “House on the Cliff” is a good opener.

if Kristof’s list had been called: “Crappy Books that Get Children Reading, Which is a Good Thing in the Grander Scheme of Things,” fine. But I’ve read The House on the Cliff. Recently. I went through a masochistic phase where I wanted to understand the historic appeal of formulaic children’s mysteries, from Judy Bolton to Trixie Belden. (For a fascinating, insider look into just how soullessly the Hardy books, along with The Bobbsey Twins and the [more defensible, proto-feminist] Nancy Drew series, were churned out, read Leslie Garis’ devastating memoir, The House of Happy Endings.)

And if you really want to give your kids a persuasive reason to avoid stupidity, have them read the transcript of Sarah Palin’s resignation speech.

*Kristof, whose middle name is Donabet, also likes Charlotte’s Web. If you have several spare hours, check out the 2000-plus reader comments his hit-and-miss list inspired.

Why Evian’s roller-skating babies terrify me

dale — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 03:47:04 +0000

Already a YouTube phenomenon, this new Evian commercial suggests that mineral water is so rejuvenating, it will transform you into a vaguely thuggish, roller-skating infant.

Evian clearly thinks this ad sets new standards of cuteness. These babies redefine precocity and outshine squirrels for agility as they one-up each other with funky roller moves—a reference to the late-70s jam skating scene in New York’s Central Park, set to the 1979 hit, “Rapper’s Delight.”

And it is freaky-cute, up to a point. Namely 00:26, when several of the babies leap in the air and cling to a wire fence like rabid dingoes who’ve watched West Side Story (or Thriller or The Lost Boys) a few too many times. And then it dawns on you: These babies have no parents. Why?! Have they perhaps killed their parents?

OVERSIGHT Responsible parenting in action

Who will stop these bundles of roller-skating joy if they turn rogue and swarm out of the park? If they begin leaping on cars and roller-skating their way up the Empire State Building? Will the U.S. Air Force be able to neutralize them in time? (Compare this illustration, right, from page 66 of my book, The Perfect Baby Handbook—although this infant is also dangerously mobile, at least his flustered dad is attempting to supervise him.)

On another level, the Evian commercial disturbs me because it suggests just how ruthlessly the new generation of aggressively educated, genius-ified babies may render the rest of us obsolete. Of course, it may not be too late.

Michael Jackson’s death as—what else?—a learning moment

dale — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 03:57:41 +0000

How parents of gifted children can take canny advantage of Michael Jackson’s death:

• Give your offspring the okay to choose the King of Pop for a role model “as long as you explain that heroes are ‘complex people with less than flattering attributes,’” writes Project GiftED blogger Melissa Greczy, a woman who likes to point out that one of her daughters founded a charity at age eight while the other is experiencing a “musical breakthrough.” As an alternate role model, she considers Superman. Who has a nose.

• Scrutinize your kid in days to come to see if “especially vulnerable to anxiety about death.” This might indicate that she’s gifted, explains Heather Siladi, a San Diego Public Education Examiner. (It might also indicate that she’s just vulnerable to that shot of the stretcher that CNN keeps showing over and over. Or to strange frail men who style themselves as military dictators and then play with chimps.) You can then seize on “this excellent opportunity to explore how music affects culture.”

• Use selected songs from MJ’s backlist to teach your child about: diversity; the difference between stop and go; the alphabet; and the value of aspiring to “Soul Train” dance standards. According to this list (featuring some great video clips), “Dirty Diana” is not enlightening.

Is your child gifted—or just unappealing? A checklist

dale — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 03:51:07 +0000

A KEY INDICATOR: Glum bicep flexing.

In this competitive era, parents are naturally curious to determine whether their child is destined to freakishly overachieve—or just to stare resentfully at his imported wooden toys. Luckily, the Internet offers various checklists for giftedness.

Though most paint a picture of a driven knowledge seeker, one such list, created by The New South Wales Association for Gifted and Talented Children includes less obviously desirable traits. According to NSWAGTC, you can tell a kid is special if she:

• “Asks many questions of a provocative nature.”
• “Is uninhibited in expression, sometimes radical.”
• “Tends to dominate peers and situations.”
• “Is considered, and perhaps resented, by some peers, as ‘crazy’.”
• “Is an entrepreneur—readily makes money on various projects or activities.”

Note that this hectoring, dominant, apparently imbalanced child must seek profit “readily.” No begrudging capitalism allowed.

Britney Spears’ sons: Are poppin’ dance skills an inherited trait?

dale — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 01:50:32 +0000

Nature vs. nurture department: Here, we have a video of Britney’s offspring, Sean Preston and Jayden James, spontaneously dancing to “Toxic” during London rehearsals for her European tour. I think you’ll agree that both boys have a precocious gift for choreography: Jayden strikes a killer pose at 00:10, while Sean executes a tricky crissy-cross leg thrust at 00:30 that most children his age (3.5 years) could only dream of. To what can we attribute this advanced ability: DNA or constant exposure to a gyrating mom?

A stern warning for parents about a certain American Idol

dale — Fri, 15 May 2009 03:58:37 +0000

Here at Perfect Baby Handbook HQ, we have a short list of banned words. The first is “Danny.” The second is “Gokey.” Consequently, we’ve been forced to exult in the downfall of a certain “American Idol” contestant through the use of coded hand gestures. Our hands are aching…so much to discuss.

NON-IDOL: Child-rearing error

After all, the key “Idol” themes—destiny, giftedness, omnipresent parental support—are all new-parent obsessions. And this Milwaukee native is, arguably, a perfect baby gone very wrong and a cautionary tale for moms and dads everywhere. He was born with talent, innate confidence, and (if you squint) a slight resemblance to Robert Downey, Jr. Unfortunately, someone failed to instill him with humility, self-awareness, or good taste in eyewear. I mean, look at these. Really?

And now he wants to parlay his reputation as an ugly-spectacles connoisseur and shameless freebies glutton into a post-Idol career:

“I started in the beginning with 15 [pairs], but I have about 50 or more!” he said in a conference call Thursday. “Glasses have rained from the sky! I want to start a Danny line – or a Gokey line – one of these days.”

Don’t let this happen to your child.

A look at some very private Mother’s Day moments

dale — Mon, 11 May 2009 03:59:52 +0000

All over the planet today, offspring took the opportunity to spend a little extra quality time with their mothers, whether at the Olive Garden, a cafe in Marseilles, or a godforsaken desert. Let’s listen in on three of these emotional tete-a-tetes:

1. Mrs. Heather Camel and daughter Emma Augustine Camel

Mrs. Camel: I think you’re dressing too sexy.
Emma: Moommmm! I’m barely wearing anything.
Mrs. Camel: Exactly! I’d like to think you’d have the decency put on a tube top, or at least drape a sensible spaghetti strap over your right shoulder.
Emma: It’s not like you’re exactly covered up. Nice double standard, Mom.
Mrs. Camel: That’s unfair. You know I earn my living as a nude model at the local art college—standing still for hours in ungainly positions just to keep you in iPod apps.
Emma: You are soooo embarrassing. Do you know what my friends call you?
Mrs. Camel (tight-lipped): No, what?!
Emma:(bursts into tears): Lady Camel Godiva!
Mrs. Camel: That’s ridiculous. I would never be seen riding a horse. Now go try on the nice safari suit I got you from Old Navy.
Emma (sobbing): I hate my life!
Mrs. Camel: I love you, too.

2. Mrs. Audrey Seal and her son Oliver Bartholomew Seal

Mrs. Seal: Oliver, how are you enjoying your challenging new class at C.L.A.P. with Claire?
Oliver: I suck at clapping, Mom.
Mrs. Seal: How could that be possible? The interactive format allows you to develop a love of music while spending quality time with me.
Oliver: Mom, have you ever even looked at me? I have tiny, possibly stunted fins. I’m just not built for clapping.
Mrs. Seal (looking away): Don’t say that. I’ll hire special coaches. I’ll—
Oliver: Mom, I just want to nose-paint.
Mrs. Seal (as if to herself): How about tetherball?

3. Mrs. Poppy Swan and her daughter Sybil Mia Swan

Mrs. Swan: Sybil, stop picking your nose.
Sybil: I wasn’t, mother.
Mrs. Swan: Don’t worry, I forgive you. I am elegant and rather perfect. I rarely hold grudges.
Sybil: What about the vendetta you swore out against that Canadian goose who pointed out that you were walking around with a huge grease stain all across your snowy breast?
Mrs. Swan: Sybil, your memory is entirely too impressive.
Sybil: What I want to know is: Why were you eating an enormous bratwurst sausage anyway?
Mrs. Swan: Nanny! Nanny Smithers!
Nanny Smithers, a jolly pig gifted with an innate understanding of the young, arrives.
Mrs. Swan: Nanny Smithers, Sybil has been picking her nose. Would you please bathe her and put her down for her nap.
Sybil: But—
Mrs. Swan: Swans don’t quibble, Sybil. Now wish me Happy Mother’s Day and be off.
Sybil refuses to speak, even after Nanny Smithers prods her gently with a wet snout.
Mrs. Swan: Beautifully put, as always!

The Perfect Baby Handbook—Live in Brooklyn

dale — Fri, 08 May 2009 19:02:21 +0000

I recently popped up in BookCourt, Brooklyn’s leading independent bookstore, as part of the Perfect Baby Handbook “tour.” As this video of the proceedings reveals, the tour requires me to look people in the eye while making ludicrous assertions about “bird cleavage” and babies who join Facebook.

Attention West-Coast readers: In a more laid-back, centered, and tanned state, I will be reading at Book Soup on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, on Sunday, May 17, at 7 pm. To rsvp, visit the event’s Facebook page. I like writing “on the Sunset Strip.” It makes me sound like esteemed infant authority Jim Morrison of The Doors.

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