In a recent episode, Stewie defeats his father's attempts to toilet train him by slamming the toilet lid on his father's fingers. It seems obvious by this cunning ploy that Stewie has decided not to accept this training. This decision it seems is not so much based on the complexity and humiliation of the task, but on its apparent "bother."

It seems Stewie was born this way: intelligent and articulate yet trapped in the body of a one-year-old. He seems to fit the psychological prototype of what Hungarian psychoanalyst, Sandor Ferenczi, called the "wise baby."

Ferenczi was a friend of Sigmund Freud. He developed a theory of trauma that he referred to as "The Wise Baby as the Voice of the True Self." This theory was developed from the typical dream image of the "wise baby" that he noted in trauma patients. He used this image to represent to the child who is traumatized into precocious wisdom, who becomes "the family psychiatrist."

Although I was neither precocious nor wise as a child, I did experience what Ferenczi may have referred to as trauma during the first year of my life. In a moment of uncontrolled joy while playing with our family dog, Taffy, I managed to inhale some of her fur into my small lungs. I developed a type of pneumonia and spent several weeks in the hospital. The diagnosis was grim and I wasn't expected to survive. I was housed in an oxygen tent that covered my hospital crib, and there I experienced the distorted world I found myself in.

Every day I looked into a room altered by the plastic covering around me to find mutated shapes of aunts, uncles and various cousins who all sat around me weeping. I made no judgements about the new look of the world, I experienced no frustration or impotence; there was no rage or cynicism in me. All that was presented before my gaze was taken in, assimilated, and stored for future use. I cried when I felt like crying, and I slept when I felt like sleeping. I continued what I had begun at birth without questioning my new perspective.

Each morning while I was in the hospital, two male nurses entered my room. My memory shows me only their two torsos: white jackets and half-faces. They would enter quickly, catching me in half-sleep, and wrap a sheet around me to hold me still. Then there was always the stabbing pain of the needle, and I was helpless. If I had been a wise baby, I would have kicked and screamed the moment they entered. I would have sounded the alarm, I would have figured out a way to foil their attempts! Or, I would have had revenge by using a well-placed foot at the lower portion of one white torso (I would have known this to be a sensitive area).

However, the trauma I experienced during this time only served to create a claustrophobic response in me that lasted well into my late teenaged years. I was so claustrophobic, as a matter of fact, that I couldn't stand to be in a crowded elevator, in any sort of crowded room, or even in any sort of tight clothing. During my years in school, I could barely breathe while sitting in a classroom.

In the same hospital situation, Stewie would no doubt see the ridiculousness of it all! He would figure out a way to foil the adults at their own game! Not only would he insist on a TV and gourmet meals, but he would challenge these male nurses to find alternate means of injecting their chemicals into his tiny system. Stewie would be champion of all babies! He would take on the brute demons of adulthood, and protect the rights of the helpless small ones!

Stewie's ultimate concern would be the rights of the newborns! He would be the voice for those who have not mastered language, he would call attention to the plight of the toothless and wobbly, the unskilled and the inexperienced. He would have the backing of millions!

Laws would be passed, changes would be made, and suddenly the world would include the baby in its assemblage! High chairs would be standard seating at restaurant tables, Telly Tubby movies would be available everywhere, special stroller parking would be provided, Gerber would put out a gourmet line of meals, and splashing would be encouraged in public swimming pools!

On December 13, 1971 and again on October 11, 1972, the case of Roe vs. Wade was argued before the U.S. Supreme Court. Who among the legal representatives present was there to argue for the babies? The final decision in this case legalized abortion in the U.S. (handed down on January 22, 1973)

The adults in this country do seem to constantly worry about babies. They work hard to ensure that a human being's first few years of life are carefree days of peace and love. Some adults also work hard to ensure that their child is the brightest, healthiest child on the planet. Currently there is a movement afoot to increase the intelligence of the newborn human. Scientific research now indicates that babies learn at a faster rate than was once supposed. One book on the subject, The Scientist in the Crib, tells us that a baby's brain can solve problems and absorb information. By the time a child is three years old, his or her brain is twice as active as an adult's is. Eager parents introduce various forms of stimulation in an effort to produce the world's brightest child who may one day assume world domination.

Adults have evidently forgotten the hassle of babyhood: the dirty diapers, the helplessness, the total dependence. For a baby, mental stimulation is just another hassle. A baby's brain is already hardwired for learning. Extra stimulation is unnecessary. If we would just pay attention, we would see that babies are already soaking up all the stimulation the world has to offer without our help. They are learning subjectively as well as objectively. Everything to them is a download from the world of movement and shapes, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds.

"It would be foolish to believe that the mind begins to function only at the moment of birth."
-- Sandor Ferenczi