It’s just a number. Whether its your age, your height, your IQ, or your bra size it’s just a number. As much as I say that I am as guilty as anyone of putting others, hell, putting myself in a certain box based on numbers.
If you have one kid, you are selfish. If you have four you are religious. I’m not the tallest kid in the room, so when someone asks me to describe someone else, I am more than likely to say that they are tall. If someone saw my height and weight they would probably assume that I was chunky, rather than built like a power lifter *sigh*.
Recently, we were having a conversation about development, you know, of the boobs. She asked what I thought she’d look like when she was finished developing. I told her that there was no way of knowing. I asked her what she’d hoped she’d look like when the metamorphosis was complete. Her answer was perfect, ” the goose”. I realize that her IQ is part of who she is, but I don’t want it to define her any more than her shoe size. She is already so hard on herself, I wouldn’t want her IQ to add any pressure.
The intelligence quotient only has bearing if there is comparison. She has been studying the scale in school, but without knowing who has what number there is no way for her to frame the reference. That’s the way I like it. Once she knows that so-in-so has this number and someone else has that one, she’ll know where she fits. I don’t know if that’s something I want for her. Not to mention what would happen when both of my kids know their numbers. Would one feel more lovable than the other?
We are the sum of our parts. I want my kids to know who they are before they hear how the world categorizes them.
I am no more myself on my worst day than I am on my best. I am all of these things. It is for this reason that I will not give what she asks for. She should remain the goose for as long as she is able.E