The other night, my son asked me, “How much longer until supper?” I told him, “Half an hour.” Without missing a beat, he said, “Okay, that’s just two fifteens.” That’s my six-year-old — quick with numbers, quick with connections, and always making me pause in wonder.
But there’s another side to raising a gifted child. My son’s reading, reasoning, and problem-solving are closer to those of a third or fourth grader, yet he’s still very much a little boy who loves mud puddles and playgrounds. I want to nurture his gifts, but I don’t want to rush him past the magic and joy of being six.
I believe our children’s gifts deserve to shine — but so do their mud pies, playground adventures, and giggles.
Recognizing & Accepting
I first realized how advanced he was when I picked up The Boxcar Children series, intending to read it aloud. Before I could start, he began reading it himself — flawlessly, without a single mistake through the first chapter. I sat there in shock, listening to words I didn’t even know he knew roll off his tongue. Pride washed over me, mixed with surprise.
As thrilling as that moment was, I knew it didn’t mean his entire life had to revolve around academics. Yes, his abilities are beyond his age, but his childhood is just as important.
When planning his homeschool year, I had to decide whether to hold him to one grade level or allow him to complete both second and third grade in a single year — like last year’s jump from kindergarten to first grade. I decided to let him try both, but I watch closely to make sure he’s handling it.
The Pressure Trap
My biggest fear isn’t that he’ll “fall behind” — it’s that he’ll regret missing a “normal” childhood, or worse, resent me for pushing too hard. Burnout at age six is a real possibility.
One night, as I tucked him into bed, I noticed he was upset. He finally admitted, “We don’t get to do stuff together anymore.” By “stuff,” he didn’t mean lessons — he meant playground trips, museums, and fun outings. His request? A visit to the NASA Visitor Center. That conversation was a wake-up call: genius or not, he needs space to just be a kid.
Protecting Childhood
My son loves unstructured time, though occasionally he’ll complain about being bored. I’m still working on balancing boundaries — too much structure and he misses play; too little and he pushes back on discipline.
Sleepovers, playground trips, and silly crafts are non-negotiables in our house. I won’t sacrifice his social growth for academics. Some of my favorite moments are watching him and his little brother transform a cardboard box into anything — a rocket ship, a treasure chest, or the headquarters of an imaginary pirate raid.
Those moments, more than perfect test scores, are what will carry him forward in life.
Nurturing Genius Gently
To help with frustration and tantrums, I’ve connected him with a therapist who understands gifted children’s emotional needs.
Sometimes learning happens in the most relaxed moments. During his limited TV time, he’s picked up new skills from shows like Nature Cat or YouTube videos about Roblox and Minecraft building. Without any pressure from me, he absorbs concepts and applies them in his own projects.
These gentle nudges — rather than strict drills — often lead to his most joyful learning.
The Family Balance
But we also protect time that’s just for family fun. Board games are a staple in our home, giving us laughter and connection. And once a year, we spend an entire day at the zoo. The boys get to eat treats they rarely have, marvel at the animals, and watch me pretend to be terrified of snakes and spiders (which, to be honest, isn’t entirely pretend).
Lessons Learned
To other parents walking this path: it’s okay to slow down. Don’t forget the simple moments, like curling up for a movie and snuggling. In my son’s eyes, those are often more special than programming his beloved robot.
More than anything, I hope he remembers a childhood full of joy, adventure, and love — with plenty of memories that had nothing to do with schoolwork.
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