Man made thunder.

I sneezed, a few days ago, rather loudly, in front of my three sons. The wave of sound seemed to push them back a bit, particularly Tiarnan, four, as if it were uncomfortable to hear. I was catapulted inward and backward, then, at that observation, to my own childhood. I saw, then, that I had, in some way, become my father, or almost.

I shall explain. When I was a young boy, my father would sometimes sneeze in a way I had heard no other person ever sneeze, before or since. It was not the sneeze of a man, but more of the thunder of the sky. His sneeze was awesomely loud. It was as if someone had let off a fair sized explosive device, right next to my ear: AHHH-HOEEEE!, he would sneeze. It was the kind of sneeze that one would be unsurprised to find had knocked one off one's feet. I used to wonder at how he made so much noise. Yes, he was a big man, with a big chest...but still, that sneeze seemed impossibly loud. I sensed, when he sneezed, the great strength in him. I knew what such a loud noise meant: it meant POWER, of the physical kind. Only a very strong man, could make so much noise, with a simple sneeze.

I have lived forty two years, now. Yet, I have never come across anyone who ever sneezed as loudly as my father did, when I was a young boy. No-one else even comes close. Of course, that means but one thing: his upper body strength, lungs and ribcage, were much more powerfully built than any other person I have heard sneeze - he simply expelled the air, with more force, speed and power. So, what I was hearing, as a boy, was my father's relative strength, compared to the other people I encountered. Perhaps there are other people with louder sneezes still - but, if so, I have never heard them. I suppose, in a way, that leaves me impressed, in much the same way that I was as a young boy.

When I sneeze, now, I see, from the reactions of my children, that they think me loud. Perhaps I am the loudest sneezer they have ever got to hear, in their lives, so far. Yet, I know something they don't: that my sneeze is a whisper, set alongside the ones my father used to explode with. I am a strong man, relatively speaking...but nowhere near as strong as my father was, as a young man. Indeed, perhaps, he is still stronger than me. Even so, when I sneeze now, I feel connected to my father, all those years ago: I feel as if I have become, as he was: the thunderer to my children, the possessor of explosive lungs.

I haven't told them, though, that my father used to sneeze much more loudly than me. I haven't told them that I am a mere echo, in the sneeze department, that my father was. Some day, I shall. But for now, they shall labour under the misperception that their father is the loudest sneezer in the world. Perhaps they will get to hear my father sneeze, one day: then my secret will be out. I am just, as my father used to say: "A chip off the old block"...but he is the Old Block, entire!

If I listen, within, I can still hear my father's thunderous sneeze, still call it to mind. Though I have grown up, it still sounds like thunder...the loudest noise a man's lungs ever made. Isn't it funny the bits of childhood that one holds onto? I have held onto a sneeze, perhaps because it always startled me, to hear how loud it was, each and every time it happened, despite my knowing in advance, just how loud it would be.

For me those sneezes were more than just sneezes: they were the essence of my father, for one of his more notable characteristics, one which no-one could miss, was his physical strength. Each and every time he sneezed, he was announcing that strength to the world. He was saying, without words: "This is who I am!".

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

There is a review of my blog, on the respected The Kindle Report here: http://thekindlereport.blogspot.com/2010/09/boy-who-knew-too-much-child-prodigy.html

Please have a read, if you would like a critic's view of this blog. Thanks.

You can get my blog on your Kindle, for easy reading, wherever you are, by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Knew-Too-Much/dp/B0042P5LEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1284603792&sr=8-1

Please let all your fellow Kindlers know about my blog availability - and if you know my blog well enough, please be so kind as to write a thoughtful review of what you like about it. Thanks.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/

Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/

Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

The daredevil "spiderman" of the Cawleys.

Fintan is the kind of boy who surprises, not only by what he says, but by what he does. He surprises, because there is something in him that people overlook: they do not see the essence of the person, behind his friendly smile or his general sociability.

Last week, Fintan and his brothers, were climbing in a specially equipped climbing centre in Kuala Lumpur. This had several climbing walls and a giant boulder. On the walls, climbers were supposed to be tethered, since they were very high and a fall could easily result in serious injury. Yet, on the boulder - which was also pretty scarily high, if you ask me, people climbed untethered.

Fintan was climbing on the boulder. He was untethered and unaccompanied. However, his mother could see him from below. He was about five metres up, maybe more. He climbed with confidence and great certainty in his motions. Yet, he is only six years old. As she watched, Fintan did something unexpected. He leapt from one hold to another, propelling himself through space, five metres above the ground, to the next handhold, like some preternatural monkey. His aim was true and he grabbed onto the next hold, without incident. Down below, of course, his mother called up, in alarm and cautioned him. Fintan, heard, but carried on climbing, absolutely sure of what he was doing.

Many an eye watched Fintan as he climbed up the boulder, with fluid ease. He didn't only jump to his next hold, sometimes he swung himself from one hold to another, holding on with one hand as he did so. Again, he showed no fear, no worry at what he did: he just climbed on, with a joyful calmness. That cannot be said, of those who watched, below, however. I think many were worried that he might fall. He did, not, however.

This scene of a young boy showing casual courage, in an act of physical daring, is quintessentially Fintan. It makes me smile to think of it - but he showed a tendency to such courage very early on. Indeed, I have written, on this blog, of one instance, in which he wanted to fight a dog, who had scared his brother - he was only about three at the time. Now, at six, he still shows an innate bravery in how he conducts himself. Yet, I should point out, that his bravery is not without personal insight. He is brave on the rock, whilst climbing, largely because, I think, he knows what he can do. He is well co-ordinated. He is strong. He can hold his weight up, easily, on his fingers. His aim is sure. He just senses what he can do, without any real trouble. Yet, the fact that he is very high up, off the ground and any fall would lead to injury, doesn't bother him at all. He is very confident that he can handle the situation.

His courage whilst climbing is very noticeable, comparatively. Fintan, for instance, climbs to the top of the walls, he tasks himself with. Many climbers, young and old alike, "bottle out", when they realize how difficult it is, how high it is - and how scary it is, up there. Many adults quietly back out and climb back down, before reaching the top. Fintan, however, does not do that. He carries on up until he reaches the top of each challenge.

I am happy he has this quality. I only hope that he finds a meaningful purpose to bring this disposition to bear on. Courage, is OK, in itself - but courage should be deployed with a meaningful purpose. It is something which can be wasted on trivial pursuits that don't really make a difference in the world. That being said, I wouldn't like to see him put himself at undue risk. Whatever he does, I hope it is both meaningful and within the range of his competencies.

Happy climbing, Fintan!

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to:
http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/
Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/
Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

Memories of a childhood: the parents' view.

What will I remember of my children, when I am older...when I have become the grandfather, I knew as a child?

I think I will remember the times my children showed the perspective of a child, the times they revealed their growing characters, the times they were simply sweet in action, thought and feeling.

A few days ago, we were shopping with Tiarnan, 28 months, in tow. We had brought his stroller with us, to help us convey him at those times when he didn't feel like walking and we didn't feel like carrying him. Of course, as anyone who has pushed a stroller will know, using one is not entirely without its problems. In particular, there is the little matter of stairs...

Tiarnan had a characteristic way of dealing with stairs, when we approached them. He wanted to do it himself. He took hold of one end of the stroller - and, in the guise of helping him a little, we took hold of it at two other places, too - and proceeded to carry it up the stairs (and later down the stairs).

It was funny watching him at work. He is a small boy...a toddler of two. Yet, he took a hold of the stroller with fierce determination and exerted all his might to carry it (as seen by the strain in his face and the earnestness of his expression). So, our little Samson carried the stroller up the stairs - doing so, all the way, without letting up. We could see that it was an effort for him - but he was determined not to give up.

When he got to the top, he set the stroller down and punched the air with one little hand: "I am so STRONG!", he declared, "I am SO strong."

Indeed he was.

It was a fun afternoon in the company of our diminutive Titan. He managed to help us carry the stroller up and down every stairs we met. He just wasn't going to let us struggle alone with it, without his help.

Seeing him shouting jubilantly about his strength - and the image of his straining body carrying the (comparatively) giant stroller up the stairs and two memories I think I shall recall in my later years, as being typical of the young Tiarnan. It is already clear that he likes to take up challenges and battle on, with determination, to their completion. These may be either physical or mental - but it is the physical ones that are particularly funny to watch, because he is just so small. (However, don't tell him that...for he is "so strong").

Before my kids, shopping was just shopping. Now, it is an adventure. That is a good change, I must say.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind)

Like father, like son

When Fintan, four, was at the hospital, the other day, for his eye injury, the nurse weighed him on check-in.

She asked him to step onto the scales and pressed a button.

I couldn't see the readout - but she clearly could. From her face, it was clear that she didn't believe what she saw.

"Off the scales...it is not accurate."

Fintan stepped off the scales. She then pressed the button to "zero" the scales.

"Step back on again."

He did so.

It was quite clear, from her face, that the unsatisfactory number was there again.

I read it: "21.90 kg". That is 48.18 pounds.

She didn't say anything, but it was clear that she had a hard time believing it, of such a young boy. She wrote the number down.

I knew Fintan was stocky, but I didn't have a handle on how stocky. It wasn't until I got home and did some net browsing that I found some figures for comparison.

Fintan is over 48 pounds. He is just four years old. He is also Eurasian, not Caucasian (and therefore they tend to be more lightly built, in general than Caucasians, by observation of the ones here, in Singapore). Yet, according to a Doctor's website, I found, the average SIX year old Caucasian weighs in at 45 pounds. Thus Fintan, four, is 3 pounds heavier than a typical Caucasian, six.

It is lucky he is so robust, for he has a physical style of play that requires that sturdiness, for him to be safe.

In a Singaporean context, of course, his build is even more unusual. For children here are slighter than children in Europe - quite a bit so.

There is one disadvantage though. People tend to judge him to be rather older than he actually is, simply because of his size and build. This can be a social disadvantage.

It is funny to see Fintan's physique. It is a sturdy little echo of my own. He even has my bodily proportions. So, despite his Eurasian background, from his build alone, he looks like nothing more than a stocky Irishman. As I said, like father, like son.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and no months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and five months, and Tiarnan, twenty-two months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

On the genetic inheritance of gift

My father was an enormously strong man, in his youth. His strength would have been legendary, had he lived in earlier days, that lauded such things. As it was, however, he found daily uses for his strength, in the way he went about tasks. He was a man who could lift furniture upstairs, on his own. He had no need of the help of another. He could move objects that would be unmovable, at all, to a typical man, with casual ease. Many a time, as a child, I would wonder at the strength he applied to his daily tasks, in the garden or about the house. Unseen by me, he would apply his strength too, in his business – but for privacy’s sake, I am not going to say what that business was. That his strength was an asset to him, even in modern life, is clear, and in some ways, had he not been strong, he would not have been the success he became (for reasons I will leave undescribed, for they would tell too much about his life – and that wouldn’t be fair).

Now he was an enormously strong man – and I inherited some of that from him, for I have always been a strong man – stronger than most men – yet, not as strong as him, I think. The strength has been handed down to me, somewhat diluted.

I look at my sons, now, in particular, Ainan, and no longer see the strength there, at all. You would never guess, looking at Ainan, that his grandfather was of great physical strength. Ainan does not possess the build that promises a large musculature to come: his is the slightness of the eternal academic, not the strength of a fearsome warrior of old, as, no doubt, our forebears in the old celtic world, were.

So, why do I discuss this? Well, looking at Ainan today, in relation to me, I felt our disparity in strength, and remembered my father’s greater strength before me. Is this, then, the destiny of all genetic gift? Is it to be lost little by little, generation by generation, until all is diluted to nothing? Looking at the decline in strength from grandfather, to father, to son, it might seem so, but all, as usual, is not what it seems.

If we look wider than a single line, we see a different story. I have three brothers, two of whom are stronger than me. I am the shortest male in my family, (though six foot tall) but not the lightest, though the two I estimate to be stronger than me, are both heavier and taller than I am.

My father’s genes have spread wide and each of his children carry half of them. He bore gifts of the mind and gifts of the body – for his mind is good, very good – and his body, in terms of strength, in particular, was most well equipped.

Looking at my brothers, I can see that my father’s qualities of mind appear in them in various admixtures – and so too his strength, in various proportions. I don’t know how many genes are involved in the gifts of the mind and the body – but we each have half of them. It seems, from observation, that there must, for strength, be more than one gene involved – for one can see a gradation across the sons: from quite strong, to strong to very strong to ferociously strong.

My father’s gift of strength lives on – and it is possible that one of his sons is stronger than him, in one way – for one son is six inches taller than his father, allowing him an advantage of scale, even if, for his size, he is weaker.

So, too, is it with my children. Ainan missed out on the gift of strength, it seems – but his brother Fintan did not. Fintan is thickset, well-muscled and, like all Cawleys, stronger than you would estimate. So my own gift of strength has not been lost – it is just not evenly distributed amongst my sons.

I do not know whether Fintan will be as strong as me, or whether, like one of my father’s sons, stronger than his father – but that he has inherited greater than common strength is clear. So, the gift goes on.

I would think it is like this with all genetic gifts. Looking both wide and deep, one will see that the gifts pass into one branch of the family, but miss others – and then further branch again, passing into some lines and not others and so on, forever. Nothing will be truly lost as long as one rule is adhered to: have several children – so that each may bear half the genes and so at least half of each gift, onwards.

I ponder this question because Ainan has certain mental gifts which were evident in my childhood and, no doubt, were anyone around to watch, in my father’s before him: how many more generations can this continue?

The answer is, I think, forever – as long as each generation has enough children so that some – well, at least one, - expresses the gift in question and may pass it on.

As it is in our family, so it is in yours. Whatever gifts you have in you, may be passed down – you just need to have a kid or three. Don’t worry that some have it and some don’t – (or some have more and others have less) because all bear some of it, onwards.

Now all I have to hope for is that I become a grandfather, one day – and watch the story begin to unfold again. There would be satisfaction in seeing that genetic continuity at work. I only hope my children want to have children when they grow up. We will see.

(I should add that even my father is not the strongest man in family legend – there were much larger and stronger men, still, in our background. Looked at physically, therefore, there is evidence of decline in strength over many generations, I would say. (In the direct line, there is decline…but the genes spread wide and are around somewhere). Once, it seems, my forebears had a use for such strength – otherwise they would not have evolved to be so strong, I would think. Looking at the history of the area and of the family, I would say a lot of that would have something to do with the war-torn history of the Land of Ireland, in times, before the gun, when strength was a man’s greatest defence – and offence, too, I might add.)

(If you would like to read about Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and three months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, three and Tiarnan, thirteen months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, the creatively gifted, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)