In the midst of feeding baby Ari his lunch, I touch the first three fingers of each of my hands together. I'm using baby sign language for the word "more."

Ari, who's all of seven months, squints at me, organic bananas and oatmeal caked on his face like a blonde five o'clock shadow. He seems to be saying, if a baby could imitate Clint Eastwood, "I don't get your meaning, compadre."

So, I utter the words "more" while signing vigorously.

Ari's tough-guy image fades and his bottom lip quivers.

I sign again and pretend to eat his food.

WAAAHHH! Ari wails piercingly and I hastily pop the spoon in his mouth. As he sucks down the goop, he looks at me as if to say, "Please don't do that again."

Now, my wife Wendy and I taught our first two kids to use the "more" and "all done" signals by the time they were Ari's age. So, we worry, a little, about his development. But we know the problem is not Ari. It's us. We're hurrying him to show us progress so we can feel like effective parents.

We get anxious over our other children, too, especially regarding school. Early last year, in first grade, Benjamin could barely sound out a word in his phonics reader. Other children his age read everything from road signs to Jigsaw Jones books. Anxiously, we forced Benjamin to practice nightly and fretted when he'd haltingly make out syllables, then throw the book across the room.

With Jacob in preschool, our concerns centered on his "pulsiveness." While others practiced writing their names, he impulsively took children's papers and pencils. As most kids dashed off to the playground to practice their tricycling and social skills, Jacob dallied in the restroom, compulsively trying to tear off a perfectly straight paper towel.