Party Tricks: Getting Smarter

It's sort of odd, after the first few months of imprinting on this kid as a being which cannot communicate and which doesn't have a lot of opinions on how is world is run, to register that his current babble, current movements, current actions actually have a lot more purpose to them. Especially since there's no big sign from on high, or even from the little creature down low to acknowledge that whatever the Bug has just done is really the conscious action of an aware human.

He has twice now -- a month ago and two weeks ago -- waved and said quite clearly, "bye bye." Twice in a month. At neither time did he look at me and smile like he knew he'd just accomplished a big thing. And he's never repeated the action when I try to get him to.

It's enough to make you think it was a coincidence.

But there are signs that there's really stuff going on in his head beyond being excited to pet kitties or being sad when he hits his head. (Which he has done three times today already. Learning to stand is HARD, I tell you.)

There is a turtle music box in his crib, which has three buttons. One to turn on the lights and make little fishies dance around. One to make ocean noises. One to play a variety of songs. He bangs and bangs away on that song button, changing the song every few moments between "Baa Baa Black Sheep" and others that are more classical. Unlike every other kids' music toy I have ever heard, the turtle sounds pleasant, almost like an organ playing.

This morning -- as he banged away after he woke up, and I lay in bed with the pillow over my head, hoping that the music would keep him entertained until a suitable hour -- I realized that he wasn't just hitting the button randomly. He'd hit it to switch over from "Baa Baa Black Sheep." He'd hit it to switch over from "Fur Elise." But he'd stop every time when he got to one particular song, which he listened to in its entirety.

He wasn't just banging. He was fast-forwarding to his favorite tune. Over and over.

I said to Steve: "I think he's actually hitting the button until he finds the one song he likes."

"Of course," said Steve. "He always stops on Blue Danube. That's my favorite, too."

Of course, my husband says. I mean, PLEASE. I was supposed to figure this out? The kid doesn't know to be excited when he says "bye bye," but he knows what he likes in music?