“Why is she just sitting there in a catatonic state?” I remember people asking.

 
“Oh, she’s watching her Baby Einstein video,” I would say while plugging in the kettle for a second cup of tea. “It’s doing awesome things to her brain. Babies can see things the rest of the world can’t. The secret is in its simplicity. It’s like when dogs can hear high pitched sounds the rest of us can only imagine. It’s the human equivalent to having access to that extra sense whenever I press play on the video.”

 
I really believed all of this to be true because I really wanted that second cup of tea. “I wish we’d had these videos when I was a kid. Just imagine the possibilities.”

 
“Those videos are like crack for babies.”

 
Sometimes when I notice Hanna (now eleven) staring blankly out a window or forgetting her swim equipment at the pool thirteen days in a row, or stumbling over a math problem, I wonder if the subliminal messages on those tapes jogged something in her brain and scrambled things around.

 
The company came out after we had been running Baby Einstein videos on a continuous loop, babies propped in Bumbo chairs (also now recalled and possibly illegal) to say you could get your money back if you felt your child was not smarter for having watched the tapes.

 
Who would admit that?

 
Who wants to tell even their best friend, let alone a giant corporation that from sun up to sun down, my kid was propped up in front of a screen watching the slow, steady movements of a black sharpie drawing a triangle against a white screen while Beethoven played soothing songs in the background and I believed, deeply, that repeated exercise would make my baby a genius?

 
My daughter asked me the other day, “Mom, what should I wear today?”

I told her it was cold outside.

“So, pants?”

 
“Dear Baby Einstein video makers……”