Letting Boy Wonder spread his wings

Boy Wonder is a miracle to me. (Both boys are, but BW is 5 and I think that's a magic age. Little Man is 2 months and I think that's a labor-intensive age.)

Long story short: Some lame-o who shall remain nameless (Lame-o!) brought up his concerns that BW is "behind." My response: "He's not even in kindergarten yet. How the f%$* can he be behind before he even starts?" Lame-o had some lame response and it turns out, had been piling up BW's "homework" while BW was visiting.

Grrrrr. It's bad enough Lame-o is still in our life (stupid high road I promised to take a few years back.) But to unload ridiculous insecurities on BW and tell him he's "Behind"? No chiggity.

I called in the big dogs at the school district he'll attend and told them about Lame-o's punk-ass claim-os. They scheduled an Early Intervention screening to see if any of that fool's claims had merit.

Today I shook Boy Wonder out of a peaceful slumber filled with dreams of donuts and SpongeBob and Leggos (his three favorite things) and took him to a non-descript office in a non-descript strip mall in town. I explained that he was going to "hang out" with a really nice lady who was going to have him work on puzzles to show us all how much of a genius he is. (He liked that idea.)

So we go in. I get the paperwork. Nice lady gets Boy Wonder. (Crappy trade.) I'm in the same room as them and they begin the evaluation, and I begin what will likely be a lifetime's worth of "helicopter parenting." (Hover, hover, hover...get it?)

Boy Wonder breezes through the initial questions, points out all his body parts, makes the "OK" symbol to show his fine motor skills. Then the big questions start.

Nice lady: "What's your first name?"

BW: "Boy."

Nice lady: "Good! What's your last name?"

BW: "Wonder."

Nice lady: "Excellent! How old are you?"

BW: "Five."

Nice lady: "Great! When is your birthday?"

Pause.

Pause.

(My Jedi mind power is sending "December 17! December 17!" to his brain in waves. He doesn't seem to be receiving.)

BW: "MarchJune?"

Nice lady: "What was that?"

BW: "My birthday is MarchJune."

Oh, crap.

The test went on. Boy Wonder was great at somethings (basic math, counting) and not so great at others. Like rhyming.

Nice lady: "What rhymes with bake?"

BW: "Oven!"

Nice lady: "No, but close. What rhymes with wall?"

BW: "Picture Frame!"

Dammit.

Close, right? He got the association down, and that's more advanced than the damned rhyming, so don't look at me with those judgemental eyes, Nice Lady!

Today was a great illustration of my hover-ness. It was SO HARD not to jump in and rescue BW from any potential embarrasment or frustration. To sit there and let him answer incorrectly went against EVERY SINGLE perfectionist, competitive bone in my body.

"Oh, my poor Boy Wonder," I thought to myself. "He needs me to guide him to the right answer. Stupid Nice Lady isn't even asking the questions right!!! Stupid Nice Lady!!!"

In the end, Nice Lady told me that he far exceeds expectations for his age group and that he's more than prepared for kindergarten, regardless of having no clue when he was born or how to rhyme "cat" with "bat" or what sound the letter "B" makes. (He gave a long-shot answer of "ssssssssssss" for every single letter she showed him. Hooray!)

Put that in your pipe and choke on it, Lame-o!