I was the crazy pregnant woman. You know? The one who honestly thought that if you put headphones on your ever-growing abdomenully shape who we are as and played music…baby would come out with a violin in one hand and a copy of Shakespear in the other.With Crazy#1 I played alot of jazz and classical music. Don’t ask me why because I really don’t like classical music. With Crazy#2 I played alot of rock and hip hop. And with Crazy#3 I played alot of …whatever was in the ipod. I can remember telling my husband that Crazy#3 already had his music preference and was already quite smart. He , of course, laughed at me and kind of gave me that Oh-You-Poor-Thing look that my husband often gives me . So? I was determined to make him see that he was wrong and I was right ( this strategy rarely works by the way). I put on a soft, mellow song. Crazy#3 stayed calm and didn’t kick. I put on some good ‘ol Rage Against the Machine and Crazy#3 went….well….CRAZY! Kicking and moving. Then…back to mellow song. Nothing. Back to rock…..CRAZY!! Husband STILL gave me the Oh-You-Poor-Thing look but looked like he might be willing to consider joining the darkside with me and Crazy#3.
Once Crazy#3 was born I began reading to him. Talking to him as if he were an adult. I would talk to him all day. Everything I did in the course of day was explained to him in discriptive words. My point to talking to him like an adult? Well. So, that by six months of age, he would be a genius! Duh! And he IS smart. His verbal skills are pretty advanced for a 22 month old. He knows what your sayin’ and …usually ignores it! The point ( OKAY! I’m getting to that!) is that education has been very important to me with Crazy#1,Crazy#2 and Crazy#3. If you ask Crazy#1 and 2 what their life plan is? They will say that ,” AFTER I go to college…..cuz’ mom says she’ll kill me if I don’t go to college.” ( CPS? Don’t come knocking on my door. I wouldn’t REALLY kill them if they didn’t go to college but THEY don’t know that!) Anyway, I work on the educational stuff. However, I have YET to get a picture of Crazy#3 holding a book while intently looking over the pages. Or dorning a sweet beret while lounging in a chair listening to Bach. But I did get this picture. A picture of what he and daddy have been working on for…oh a day or two. And I sit here and smile. And laugh at how these precious moments are the ones that trully shape who we are as person.