Why my 1-year-old grandson needs to grow up already

San Francisco Chronicle​

9 hours ago

Dear Nicola,
I know you're only 16 months old right now, still technically a toddler. But listen, sweetheart, you're no longer an infant. So, if you're going to grow up, you'd better get going. Nobody is getting any younger around here.
I mean, you have yet to decide which college to attend, much less choose a major and decide which profession to pursue, nor have you established any criteria about whom to marry. You've mastered no discernibly marketable skills, either, unless potential employers now count being adorable.
So, with all due respect, it's time to stop stalling around and babying yourself. I mean, nobody likes a slacker.
Let me, as your doting grandfather, offer you some advice. The world you have inherited is highly competitive. Some kids start studying how to nail top scores in the SATs while still prenatal. Others see the crib as the perfect setting to peruse Proust, get the hang of trigonometry theorems and practice conjugating verbs in Latin.
Have you even taken a first step in those directions?
Now, in your defense — and much to your credit — you've already developed a lot in your first year-plus. You can walk. You can open and close cabinet drawers with impunity. You're second to none in feeding your face with your fingers. I see a lot of potential.
But come on, pumpkin. You still run around the house wearing nothing but a diaper, if that, in the name of fun. You also have no blueprint for growing the global economy. And, for the record, I doubt you've even asked yourself whether God exists.
I hate to break it to you, my darling, but you really need to pick up the pace. You have no business network in place for creating synergies. Your Twitter and Instagram followings are precisely zilch. Have you even begun to map out your fourth-grade science project?
You're long overdue to start building your brand, baby.
After all, history shows you're never too young to start acting older. Tiger Woods appeared on television practicing his golf swing at age 2. Pablo Picasso reportedly started drawing pictures even before he could speak. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart composed his first symphony at 8.
No wonder parents now hire violin tutors and tennis coaches for kindergartners. Expectations are hyper-accelerated. Age 5 is considered the new 10. Kids in sixth grade do homework for three hours a night. Academic pressure, advancing technology and the ever-quickening global marketplace conspire to end childhood — and start adulthood — earlier and earlier.
So you really have your work cut out for you. If you're going to create a commercially viable portfolio for yourself and gain a competitive advantage, you have no time to waste. You'll have to fast-track yourself.
Granted, my parents and grandparents happened to believe the opposite. They were infinitely more laissez-faire about my upbringing and career aspirations than I will ever let myself be with yours. Crazy as it now sounds, they wholeheartedly encouraged me to pursue whatever profession I wanted in my heart of hearts.
What about a ditchdigger in a swamp? Sure, they said. Yes-man to a psychotic South American dictator? Of course, they insisted. Part-time assassin? Be our guest, they promised (but only provided the gig came with a comprehensive dental plan). In short, I had carte blanche.
But, hey, what did they know?
OK, so maybe a case can be made that each child has an individual timetable that should be followed organically, that you should grow up at your own pace, and that nobody should ever hurry anything as valuable and short-lived as childhood.
Maybe one could even argue that you deserve the opportunity to savor being a little kid, and that childhood is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that will be over all too soon and can never be fully recaptured.
So maybe right now your agenda should be to kick a soccer ball around, pretend your stuffed bear can talk and make silly faces at grandpa. Maybe your highest priority should be to blow bubbles. Maybe you'll still manage to develop and mature and thrive, all without letting anyone rush you.
Hey, I'm no helicopter grandpa. Please take your time deciding how fast you want to grow up. I'm sure you'll get into a really good medical school in due course anyway.
Just do me a favor. Let me know which one by tomorrow.
Love, Grandpa.