For me it depends on what the comments are. I disliked the wow he's so smart comments because there is no answer, it's not like thank you is appropriate,or yes he is, good of you to notice. I settled on just smiling. It became more problematic as DS noticed the comments, especially when they would hear something and say how old is he. I would answer but it made him realize that there was something different about him.
At the park a parent heard me conversing with my daughter, and asked how old she was. I told him she was two and he exclaimed "she speaks very well for a two year old." I wanted to say something like "well... she's almost three" or "she's actually two and a half" but she wasn't. She was 25 months or so. I replied "Thanks." I think he meant it as a compliment, which would make "Thanks" an appropriate response. Mostly it was awkward.
Honestly, there was another small part of me that wanted to brag and say "Yep. And she's bilingual too." I mean, if someone is going to assess my daughter's speaking abilities, shouldn't I steer them toward a more accurate assessment? Instead, I try not to draw attention to her abilities in front of anyone who might be made to feel insecure.
Sometimes I'll even lie. My friend had a baby 3 months after I did. When his baby was a few weeks old, my wife, my daughter and I visited them. His son was not particularly alert, and his wife said she couldn't wait for their son to be more interactive, like my daughter. Then they asked when she became so alert. If I were truthful, I would have said "she's been like this since birth." Instead I said I couldn't remember. I initially thought that my daughter was the normal one. I remember visiting the pediatrician when she was a few days old, and he told me "she's watching me." That comment didn't make any sense to me at the time. I wondered what she ought to be doing, if not watching him.
With her recent advances, it's only going to draw more attention. My plan is to readily mention that she leads and I follow, not the other way around.
