When my daughter was a toddler, like all parents, I secretly hoped I was rearing a little genius. The first clue was that her first word was “hello” — surely, a sign of an outward facing, philosophical approach to life.
So with little need for encouragement, I began to feed her genius tendencies. I enthusiastically talked her through everything we were doing each day, and reflected on what we’d done at the end of the day just to top up her vocab. (A little embarrassing in the supermarket queue, but still, genius child in the making here.)
I read her books that were slightly ahead of her reading age, you know, just to keep the momentum up. I may have made her memorise who the Prime Minister was to impress friends and relatives. Ok and I taught her how to count to 10 in Japanese because you know, global village and all that.