When I was pregnant with my first child, I sat in my chair every night with headphones on my belly playing classical music.  I’d read how important it was in the developing child’s brain, and wanted to give him every possible advantage, every possible head start.  I wanted him to be as smart as his friends.

After he was born, the pressure continued.  I discovered a series of videos geared toward the pre-verbal child, enticingly named “Baby Einstein.” How could I not buy them? I certainly wasn’t an adequate teacher; heck, I was barely an adequate student.

So I popped in the first videotape as he sat in his little bouncy seat, all the while thinking, I am such a good mother! He’s going to be a genius! My son will rule the world! Woohoo! After several minutes of watching the dizzying array of shapes and colors and the onset of the requisite migraine, however, I began to rethink my position. 

And since it didn’t seem to be doing much for my son besides stepping up his drool output, I made the decision.  Back they went.

The second pregnancy was thankfully much easier, because there was simply less time to worry.  There was no excess analyzing, no irrational stress, no nuttiness. And there was no music on the tummy, since my 2-year-old thought there was nothing funnier than coming over while mommy was resting and snapping the headphones.

Yes, I certainly wised up over the years.  I was a little cocky, then, at our recent visit to the pediatrician. I knew I’d been doing a good job, and I wanted her to know it too, since I’m a little afraid of her. She finished examining my children and said, “You know, they’re really quite smart.” Her tone implied that she was surprised by this, but I gamely let it pass.

“What do you do to stimulate them?” she continued.  “Do you read? Play games?” And then her eyes narrowed as she asked, “Or did you put them in front of those ‘genius baby’ videos all day when they were younger?”

Reasonably sure the future health of my children rested on my answer, I replied, “No! No! Of course not! I don’t know what you’re talking about! No videos! Bad video! Bad, bad video!”

She looked at me with not a little impatience and said, “I read that 32% of kids between six months and two years watch those videos. I just think there’re better ways to expose babies to poetry, language, music and art.”

And I agree.  Despite my children’s current belief that television is the fifth food group, these videos can’t replace human contact and real, three-dimensional stimulation in those first few years. Besides, our kids make my husband and I feel stupid enough as it is, without the darned videos. 

Son: “Daddy, what’s infinity minus one?”

Daddy: “I don’t know, honey.  That’s a good question, though!”

Or this:

Daughter: “Mommy, if you’re filling in the blanks, why do you call it “filling out” the form?”

Mommy: “Gee, I don’t know, honey. Good question, though!”

Or this:

Son: “Mommy, if you drive on the other side of the earth, do you fall off?”

This one befuddled me. Why DON’T people driving in Antarctica fall off the earth? How is it that no matter where you are on the planet, you’re always right-side up?

“No, wait, never mind.  I forgot about gravity,” my son said.  He then went merrily on his way, mystery solved.  “What about gravity?” I wanted to call after him, but I couldn’t. I was ashamed.

So I’m hauling out my headphones and snatching up all the make-your-kid-smarter videos I can find, because my husband and I have decided there may be a case for them yet. The pressure is still there, after all, and we still believe people should have every possible advantage so they can be as smart as their friends.

Or, in our case, their children.