Smarter than the Average Bear

My six-year-old scares me.

It’s not because she’s odd or prone to outbursts or likely to appear at the foot of my bed some night wearing a hockey mask and gripping a machete.

It’s because she’s so smart and charming and likable and advanced.

It would be nice to be an expert on child development since I’m charged with helping to develop four of them, but I’m not. So I’m not sure what percentile she claims or how she officially compares to others or what her test results show. But I’m willing to bet my wife’s Chevy Venture minivan that Devina is smarter than the average bear.

All kids hit those periods when they come home from school knowing ten new words each day and grow out of their new pants in three weeks and announce that apple juice is for babies and they can cut their own sausage, thank you. But Devina’s different. She makes jokes that I would make. We talk about subjects that challenge my understanding and ability to explain. She picks up on new things so quickly and remembers things that I forgot and is already at the point where she wants me to hurry up with my point and not beat a dead horse ‘cause she’s got it and she’s getting bored.

She wants to be treated like her older siblings and stay at school all day like they do. She claims to be interested in the same shows they watch, iCarly and Degrassi, and denies still liking Dora the Explorer and the Backyardigans. She takes every chance she gets to demonstrate her independence, whether it’s heading down the street on her two-wheeler without permission or refusing to kiss us goodbye in the morning like the other children do, choosing instead to head out the door confidently, head held high, and throw a quick “See ya” back in our direction.

She’s surprisingly fun to be with. Not just because I love her or it’s fascinating how children look at the world with innocence and naïveté, although I do and it is. It’s because she makes me laugh and makes me think. She also makes me wish the clock weren’t ticking so damn quickly.

I really wish the minutes and hours and days and years weren’t blowing by so fast. As any parent knows, just yesterday she was in diapers. Today she’s writing her name and mine and everyone else’s she can think of – in cursive. Tomorrow she’ll be wearing a cap and gown and the day after that she’ll be changing her own baby’s diapers. I know this. I forget sometimes, when I get frustrated at having to repeat myself or discipline her and I end up not being as gentle as I should. But I know I need to cherish this time ‘cause it’s so fleeting.

Yesterday the kids and I celebrated Mother’s Day by taking Anita and her mother to Binder Park Zoo in Battle Creek, 40 minutes away. When we got there, I gave Devina the zoo map and made it a point to ask her every 15 minutes or so where we were or how close we were to the zebras or the tram or the ice cream or the python. She seemed to relish the role and she seemed so mature, making her proclamations and sharing her estimations. I was pleased and a tad chagrined to learn that my six-year-old – who couldn’t even read six months ago or count to ten a year ago – can navigate a family of seven through an unfamiliar, 433-acre zoo with over 140 animal species.

I‘m cherishing my Darling Devina. I’m digging her like crazy.