No pressure, Chebbles

Chebbles has gained admittance to an institute that promotes services for the profoundly gifted.

But what if she wants to be a cosmetologist? Would she feel horrible pursuing that dream because she was in that institute, and people from that institute go to Stanford at age 16 and commit to extensive PhD research projects by the age of 20?

I spend my afternoons teaching her to innovate in math problems ("how many OTHER ways can you make 45 cents?"), studying various angles of Ancient Egypt (cuneiforms, anyone?)  plus my house looks like Professor Emmett Brown's house of Botany -- science projects everywhere, and I'm always throwing away a baggie of torn up weeds that turns out to have been important.

So am I going to be crestfallen if she works as a waitress in Thailand for the first 20 years of her adult life?

Everyone says that they just want their kids to be happy -- but that's not the message we send when we so emphatically educate them -- either ourselves or by proxy. What we're ultimately saying is that we want them to find happiness through professional success.

Last night I was sitting next to a fascinating scientist at dinner. She studies the effects of carbon on waterways -- specifically diving into the depths of the Gulf of Mexico to scrape and analyze gunk off of coral. She has been educated at a fleet of terrific schools. And I kept wondering, did you want to have babies? Did you reach a point in your career when you could either pursue a settled-down-family situation or your research? Do you regret that decision?

What if Chebbles throws herself into a similarly fascinating career? That's precisely what we're setting her up for with this current educational plan. The alternative would be to shoehorn her into a more average educational setting and hope she's not pissed off at the missed opportunities years down the line.

Perhaps what I want her to understand as she reaches adulthood that taking 20 years off to raise your kids is an awesome proposition, and I think that there is an opportunity to rejuvenate your career after your kids leave for college.

I want her to have a life beyond her potential and intellect -- a happy life with sustaining breakfasts and daily loving hugs. I know I have never been more fulfilled as when I dropped entirely out of the job market to raise these ridiculous people. But perhaps this prescription was unique to me.

It just seems like we're handing her the Hubble Telescope blueprints and saying, "No pressure!"