This Child is a Genius: Who does a Single Mom Tell?

Ellie is brilliant.

Every child is, right?  At least in their parents’ eyes.

But I will give you amazing examples as to why Anabelle Hope Lemieux is SUPER smart.

She just turned one last week and she does the ASL sign for “more”.  She does it when she wants more Cheerios, and she does it when she wants me to make her laugh harder, or when she wants me to sing and dance some more (although those of you that have seen me sing and dance are surely asking yourself if this is a sign of her lack of intelligence).

She also acts out BOTH the Itsy-Bitsy Spider AND Twinkle Twinkle little star – she learned an adorable routine at the local library’s story time.

Her tricks don’t end there folks.  Ask her where her nose is, and she points to her nasal region.  Her tongue? She sticks it out.  Her belly?  She rubs her stomach.

But tonight, after she got out of the bath, I decided that Ellie is well on her way to curing terminal illnesses – all of them.

Here is why.  I was getting her dressed after her bath and I got out her socks and jammies.  I unfolded her socks from the ball we all mash our socks into, and I got a text message. So I checked my phone.  And then I turned to resume getting her dressed and I saw Ellie gently placing both sock on top of her chubby little feet.

I was speechless.  When she moved, she noticed they fell off, so she gingerly tried to balance them back up on her feet.  And they fell of again.

Then she looked up at me, very confused, as if to ask, “Why the hell do they stay on my feet when you do it, but they don’t stay on when I do it?”

So I started screaming, “Ellie!!! You are the smartest little girl ever!  You know where your sockies go!!!  I need to sign you up for a class where you can learn even more!!!  Here, let mommy show you, you OPEN the socks and stick your foot IN them.  Then they stay on!”


And I wanted to record Ellie’s genius and post yet another video to Facebook.  And then I realized instead I just wished I had someone to share my joy with. In reality. Not virtually.

Then Ellie ate a Cheerio she found off the carpet.  And I laughed.

But it’s hard.

Rushing to the ER alone in an ambulance with a baby that is throwing up blood – I got it covered.

But when Ellie does something I deem to be amazing, I get a little sad that I am her total cheering section.

Actually, that is not entirely fair, Ellie’s nanny is equally as invested in her development and there are many mornings that we are both talking about what a genius Ellie is, or making total fools out of ourselves as we jump up and down while she toddles across the living room.

But when I am alone with Ellie, and she demonstrates her ability to take over the world, I wonder – Who is a single mom supposed to turn to and tell?