Al-bug: prodigy in the making

Stop the press! News flash! Put down whatever it is you are doing and instead stand in awe of all that is Alby because on Friday (drum roll please) my son mastered counting from one to ten!

I know, I know.  An applause is required.  In fact I would go so far to suggest a standing ovation.  I mean for goodness sake, the child is 23 months, this is highly impressive stuff.

Well, no actually it isn’t at all.  He is bang on his milestones.  Neither advanced nor behind for his age, just Jo Average.  And yet I still find this something worth stopping in my tracks for.  Something to cheer and even to write a post about! 

As much as I hate it I spend almost everyday having to accept that all those patronising comments other parents made to me before having Alby – you know the ones: “children change everything” and “you don’t know what it’s like until you have kids”, really are true. Of course what those people don’t tell you is that “changing everything” means your brain becomes so fuddled that you think it is completely legitimate to follow a post on sex trafficking with one about your child being able to count.  A shift has definitely taken place somewhere in my universe but I’m not quite so blind as to believe it is simply a shift the right way.

And yet, when all is said and done I have a child now.  A child who can count to ten.  (Let’s all gloss over the fact this happened whilst he was counting a mere three cups – clearly he is not only intelligent but able to see things invisible to the naked eye.  Like I say, a genius).  A child who, as of tonight, will have been sleeping in his own bed (yes bed, no cot for Mr Albert) for a whole seven nights.  A child who will repeat almost anything you say provided it isn’t more than four words long.  Who demands you make train tunnels out of thin air.  Who tells you to cut up his toast and then cries when he can’t get the two pieces to stick back together again.  Who insists on taking Percy for a walk and spends the entire time running away from you.  A child who, yesterday, fed maggots to fish in the river (this was under the supervision of his babysitter and I’m still not sure whether I’m delighted or disgusted by this event).  A child who cuddles, kisses and laughs like his father.  A child who can count to ten.

It's hard work being so smart