When I was pregnant with Brooks, I started daydreaming about trains, balls, and dinosaurs. I envisioned myself sitting on the floor teaching him about engines and conductors or Triceratops vs. Stegosaurus. I was ready to be a wealth of information for my little boy, but as I soon found out, once the Dinosaur phase came along, I wasn’t as astute as I thought I was.
Brooks is pretty into dinosaurs. He’s not obsessed by any means, but he enjoys creating scenarios with them. For instance, the other day we loaded all of his minitature (“baby”) dinosaurs on a toy monster truck, and he sped them across the room and under the bed. When I asked him where it was going, he said “New York City, you know, to get away from the volcanoes and stuff.” Like duh, mommy. Gotta love the preschool imagination.
That night he wanted to read a bedtime story about dinosaurs. I wanted to read “How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night” by Jane Yolen, where your standard Dino types are featured, but he wanted to read a nonfiction book with “real pictures”. Well, let me tell you, my mommy ego was smashed quite a bit as I stumbled through that book trying to pronounce names of the giant beasts. I’m not talking about a Brachiosaurus, Troodon, or Tyrannosaurus. Give me some credit here. I’m talking about names like Tuojiangosaurus and Dromiceiomimus. I was waiting for him to pat my arm at any moment and say, “You’re doing a real good job, mommy” with big empathetic eyes.
Granted, with some oral reading practice in front of the mirror, I will get these names down. But for now, my advice to all you moms and dads is to practice first. That way, you can remain on your wisdom pedestal that young children so sweetly place us upon and at least fake like you know everything.